Saturday, February 26, 2011

Say What You Mean To Say

For the past few days now John Mayer's voice has been playing over and over in my head..."Say what you mean to say.  Say what you mean to say."  (Am I the only one with the continuously rolling soundtrack in my head?  Gosh, I hope not.)  Anyway, ever since we got back from Louisiana I haven't really been able to blog much.  I have all these thoughts swarming around in my head, but I can't get a coherent thought to come out.  Blogging is a release for me...it's a way for us to stay connected to the outside world, for me to keep people up on what's going on, or just to get things out that need out.  But for the past few weeks I feel like I've been walking around in this fog.  I've started a million blogs in my head, even started writing a few, but I can't get out what I'm trying to say. 

I want to tell people:

-That while we're doing okay, we're still struggling with the loss of Eric - Gregg especially.  We have our lives to keep us busy during the day, but in the quiet of the night grief strikes.  Or even sometimes it comes at totally random times.

- That we serve an awesome God, and he has a plan for each and every one of us.  If I were you, I'd try to get on the good side of that plan.

- That Micah got his first tooth and he's crawling now.  That's running us into a lot of talks about sharing and being kind since now he can get into Will's toys. 

- That I love my new job, although the hours stink and I'm feeling a little stupid because I've been working in retail for the past almost two years.

- That marathon training is going well, although slowly. 

- That I have the most wonderful husband who sacrifices in so many areas for our family.

There are all these feelings and inner struggles I want to get out like:

- How to couple the fact that God is someone to be feared, but at the same time he allows us to call him by a most intimate name - Abba, Father.

- How sweet it is to hold a sleeping baby in your arms and the love that overwhelms you at a moment like that.

- How to get used to this "new normal" without Eric (thanks, Laura for coining that term).

- How challenging and rewarding parenting can be at the same time.

- How to show the love of Christ to those I barely even know, or worse yet, to those I don't like.

- How humbled I am at the acts of service and love we received from Eric and Laura's church in Louisiana, Roger and Cathy's church during our short stay in Enid, OK, and from our church here in SD during this difficult time.

The list literally goes on and on.  Maybe one day the fog that is February will clear and I'll be able to articulate my thoughts again.  Maybe it won't and this will be my last blog...we'll see.  But for now I'll sign off and try to get used to this new normal.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Praise You In This Storm

Praise You in This Storm
words by Mark Hall (Casting Crowns)

I was sure by now,God, that You would have reached down
and wiped our tears away,
stepped in and saved the day.
But once again, I say amen
and it's still raining
as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain,
"I'm with you"
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away.

Chorus:
And I'll praise you in this storm
and I will lift my hands
for You are who You are
no matter where I am
and every tear I've cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm


I remember when I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry to You
and raised me up again
my strength is almost gone how can I carry on
if I can't find You
and as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away

And I'll praise you in this storm
and I will lift my hands
for You are who You are
no matter where I am
and every tear I've cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm


I lift my eyes onto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth
I lift my eyes onto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth

'Nuff said.

Friday, February 11, 2011

The Man They Called Scorch

Captain Eric "Scorch" Schmidt.  I have known Eric for a little over 10 years, but I have never referred to him with such a formal title.  To be honest, I didn't even know his official rank in the Air Force.  Of course I knew he was in the Air Force.  I knew he was a pilot.  I knew he was enlisted right out of high school before attending college.  But after that I knew little to nothing about the man his coworkers (copilots, co-Air Force people - I'm not up on the lingo) called Scorch.  I knew him as Eric...loyal brother and son, good friend, wonderful husband, awesome uncle, proud papa, devoted follower of Christ.  I never really saw him in his professional realm.  I didn't even know how he got his pilot call sign (Scorch), but apparently it had to do with some planes catching fire on more than one occasion - although I'm told it was no fault of his....riiiiight. :)  I really had no idea until last week what a true benefit he was to our Armed Forces.  Take a look at all the ribbons he received while serving his country:
I had no idea what they all meant, so I looked them up (using the internet, mind you, so I hope it was accurate).  Here are some of the meanings of a few random ones: Meritorious Service Medal, Aerial Achievement Medal, Air Force Good Conduct Medal, Southwest Asia Service Medal, Small Arms Expert Marksmanship Ribbon.  The list goes on.  Sad thing is, I'll never know what he did to receive all these...it would have been nice to know.

Last week I got a little glimpse into what Eric...Scorch...Capt. Schmidt meant to the Air Force community.  At his visitation we heard multiple stories from a copilot, fellow student from the academy, and others about his leadership skills, courage, and dedication to people.  Before his funeral the Global Strike Commander Lt. Gen. James Kowalski personally told the family we could truly be proud of Eric and the job he did.  At his funeral he was honored with Taps, a 21 gun salute, and a B-52 fly over.  They repeated the fly over at his burial service in Enid, OK.  Both planes were flown by those who served with him and called him friend.  After the service in LA, some of the guys in his squadron took us to see where he worked and give us a little more insight into what he did on a day to day basis and the impact he had on those around him.  The whole experience, though incredibly sad, was awesome and one I will never forget. 

I can honestly say I was proud of Eric before...mostly because he was incredible man of God and he lived out his faith every day.  I can see now that he extended that to the workplace.  When I think of what we were shown last week, with Eric's dedication to his job, country, and the people he interacted with every day, I am reminded of Colossians 3:23-24.  It says: "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.  It is the Lord you are serving."  What an incredible example he set for the rest of us in all areas of his life.  I am now ever more so proud of my brother-in-law for the way he served his country, but mostly for the way he served his God.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

See You Later, Brother

It's an eerie thing knowing when someone is going to die.  Of course we know we're all dying, and you may even have a glimpse of a general time when someone might pass away, but very seldom do you know the date ahead of time when someone will die.  Eric passed away this morning, and we knew it was going to happen.  He had been on the ventilator since last Tuesday and it became evident he was not ever going to be able to successfully breathe without it.  The cancer had spread so significantly that his body was shutting down.  The whole time Gregg and I were here he hadn't responded to our presence aside from opening his eyes briefly the first day we were here.  So after multiple long talks with the doctors and the family it was decided to take him off of the ventilator this morning.

There is an unsettling feeling in a situation like this.  Tons of questions go through your head..."Are we doing the right thing?"  "What if the situation would have changed tomorrow and he would have been fine?"  "Am I playing God?"  The chaplain from the base out here assured me that God is still in control of the situation and if he wanted Eric to breathe on his own, that would happen.  Still unsettled.

We have been praying this whole time for God to take this away from Eric, hoping he would just heal him - completely.  My prayer didn't change last night.  I prayed we would walk into the hospital room this morning and he would be sitting up, breathing on his own, with a smile on his face to greet us.  We prayed for a miracle...just give us a miracle.  This morning we got a miracle.  When we walked into the room, Eric's eyes were open and he was responding to questions.  We were able to see him and him see us.  We could talk to him and he heard us.  Then the really unsettling feeling, "Does he know what we're here for?"  Gregg decided he would be the one to directly ask him.  It was heartbreaking to watch Gregg ask his only brother if he was aware, but also if this was what he wanted, but it was so reassuring to see that Eric knew exactly what was going on and affirm to us that he was ready to go and be with Jesus.  With the sedation off, it was so obvious he was in pain...just more evidence the cancer had taken over.  He was ready to go.  It was probably the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but it was awesome that everyone got to be there.  It was awesome that everyone there was a believer.  It was awesome that even as Eric was leaving this life, God was being praised.  Eric lived his life to glorify God, and he has now received the goal of his faith...the salvation of his soul.