One Final Rose

How in the world do you take 86 very colorful years of a man and condense it to under 45 minutes? That was the dilemma Michael faced as he tried to prepare for the funeral of our beloved Rex. This man had done, seen, and heard it all. He'd been all over the world, and brought that world to life for us who haven't stepped on other borders. We had only been in Chatfield a couple of weeks when one day we heard the doorbell ring and there at the door stood Rex with a dozen roses in his hand. Our house sits at the back of our 3+ acres, and he had parked at the gate and walked up the drive to welcome us to this place. He said people would always open the door to a bouquet of roses. He was right. I opened the door to those bouquets five or six times over the last two and a half years. There was even a couple of times he sent a bouquet home with Michael after the men's prayer breakfast on Thursday mornings.

I once told Michael that every Sunday morning Rex would hug me and tell me how much I brightened up the place. He kind of hesitated a minute then told me that Rex said that to everyone. He made everyone feel so special. Since about the middle of November, Rex hadn't been able to get out to church because the pain from his cancer was getting harder to bear. His front row seat was so obviously empty. About two weeks ago on a Sunday afternoon, I was in town and Michael called to say someone had come by the house to see me. I drove home and as I pulled in the gate, I saw a bouquet of roses up on the toolbox of Michael's truck. I knew it was Rex. His last outing. Always thinking of ways to make others feel special. The next time he got out of that bed was when the funeral home came to get him. His step daughter said the night before he died he said "I see him standing at the gate". They didn't know what or who he was seeing. I think I do.

Michael didn't use an abundance of scripture at the funeral. He didn't have to. Rex' life was the scripture. The night before the funeral, a friend of Rex told Michael of an outing that he took with Rex five years ago. Previously, Rex had told this friend that his grandpa was buried in a county east of us near a brush arbor. This friend told Rex that he had gone to the courthouse and there was no cemetery registered in that county, but he knew of a brush arbor out on a ranch. They took a day to see if they could find that cemetery. They found the brush arbor, walked up to it and Rex showed his friend where he sat, where they brought his grandpa in, and also told him that he had walked down that sawdust trail to accept Jesus when he was a small boy. This man was surprised because he had tried to talk to Rex about the Lord before and Rex never wanted to talk about it. Rex thought he could find the cemetery from where they were standing, so they got in the truck and headed that direction. The road had grown up with goldenrods. They slowly drove through, stopped the truck and looked over and saw the sign "Brooks Cemetery". Rex took his hat off, stuck it out the window and yelled "I'm coming Grandpa!, I told you I would come back!" He opened the door of that truck and started running as an 81 year old might run, with his bony arms a pumping, yelling, "I'm coming, Grandpa!, I'm coming!" Rex stood there telling his grandpa everything that had gone on in his life from the time he was a skinny 11 year old until that present day. His friend asked him if his grandpa was a christian man and Rex assured him that he was. This friend told Rex that if he would live like his grandpa had, he would see him again one day. When Rex was a young boy he had accepted Jesus, but like a lot of us, had wandered off the path. The beautiful thing is that Jesus never leaves us or forsakes us. After that visit to the cemetery, Rex found a church. He loved this cowboy church. He loved the people here. He fell in love with Jesus once again.

I believe with all my heart that when Rex took his last breath on this earth that Thursday morning, that his next breath going towards glory was shouting "I'm coming, Grandpa!, I'm coming!" I also believe that he was probably seeing his grandpa standing at the gate waiting for him. In the book "90 Minutes in Heaven" by Don Piper, Don said when he died and went to heaven that the people waiting for him at the gate were not just family members and friends, but that it was the ones who had made a spiritual impact on his life. The ones who had led him to the Lord and encouraged his walk with the Lord. So the question I must ask myself is not "Who will be waiting for me?", although I know who those will be, but "Who will I be waiting for?" Will I be called for "Gate Duty" once or twice, or will it be more often? The way to determine that is how I live my life right here and now. Who am I putting into spiritually? Forgive me Lord, when I think I'm too busy to encourage or be there for someone who needs me. I pray that I make people know they are so special. Put a servant's heart in me, because I can't help but think that Gate Duty would be so sweet. Oh so sweet.

When the service was over at the cemetery, the big bell chimed seven times. Complete. Perfect. Rex heard it. He said he would. He probably had just told Jesus that He really brightened up the place.

His step daughter got a rose off the casket and gave it to Michael. "He would want her to have it", she said. One final, beautiful rose. Thank you, Jesus, for giving us Rex. Thank you, Rex, for giving us Jesus.

It is Rexford Marion Brooks, for Whom the bell tolls.

Christy and Cary Ann

I think the wind chill on Saturday morning was below 0 when we went all over downtown Lubbock to find places to take pictures of Christy and Cary Ann. Christy is my sister and Cary Ann is her beautiful daughter. I have to say, though, that every time I looked through that camera, I saw Cary Ann at one year old with her hair in dog-ears, wearing denim shorts tied up with a rope and freckles painted on her face at Kyle's hobo birthday party. Cary gets a lot of grief from us for her spelling abilities and her excitement over things she has learned at Tech this semester, like how we lost at the Alamo. We give her grief, but she is the one of all the grandkids that calls on birthdays, and keeps everyone connected. She learned that from her mama. Christy keeps the office going at UMC for the Vice Presidents of Nursing Services. She is so good at what she does, and cares so much that patients are happy with their stay at her hospital. She also is in charge of our "girls' trips" we take with my other sister Cathy. Our next trip is in February and all of us "Dorman" girls are going to San Antonio. Christy got all the organizational skills in our family. The rest went to Cathy, and I got left with a very few. Enjoy these pictures of Mom and Daughter. Oh yeah, and get a load of our daddy's blue eyes.

Supermom to the Rescue!

When my big kids were little, the word "supermom" became a new word in the world's vocabulary. It was my quest in life to one day own that crown and scepter! Kayla was born on a Friday. On Saturday morning we left the hospital, went to the mall for a couple of hours, then to another store and finally rolled into Snyder right in time for Kyle's soccer game. When she was 10 days old, Adam fell and broke his leg. He was almost three years old and, with that body cast, weighed about 100 pounds. My daddy brought me a refrigerator dolly and let me borrow their car with a hatchback. I would prop him up on the dolly, roll him to the car, lift the hatchback and lay him in the back. We didn't miss church, a soccer game, or one of Kayla's feedings. As the boys grew, they both loved baseball and I was their pitcher. I noticed when Kyle was in the 2nd grade he didn't ask me to pitch as much. I asked him to go out one day to play and he told me I couldn't throw hard enough. I was a little sad and a little relieved, because they were beginning to throw pretty hard. They all got bigger, had more games, events, and eventually three little sisters. They had their own little cheerleading squad. We took the girls to everything, knowing how important family is.
Now with just the three younger ones in the house, I hadn't thought of the "supermom" thing in awhile. Until the other day when Leah ran into the house to tell me there was a snake outside. A bolt of fear quickly ran through my short body as I realized I was the adult in the house. It was the day before Thanksgiving and I knew all the kids would be in that night. Kyle hates snakes and Adam hates spiders. Kayla hates both. When I know they are coming, I make a concerted effort to rid the premises of anything that could possibly resemble either of the two. The fear in me turned into adrenaline, and I ran out and grabbed the shovel. I raised that thing high above my head and came flat down on that snake. That booger turned back and looked right at me. Scared me to death. The shovel came down again. And again. And again. I honestly don't know how many times I hit that serpent. I was in a frenzy. I had to save my home.
When I was positive it had gone to be with the Lord, if that is where snakes go, I picked it up with the shovel and was going to throw it in the pasture. With all my might, I twisted back with the shovel to sling it as far as I could. It hit the tree right in front of me. Reminded me of my cheerleading days when we threw the little footballs up in the stands. My daddy asked me to never stand in front of their section because he knew if I did he would never get a ball. I would hit the fence in front of me, I believe now it was because of the "follow-through". Sometimes I could get it up to the second or third row. Anyway, back to the snake. I threw it so hard it wrapped around a vine and just hung there dripping blood. Not looking at me any longer. That evening after the kids were here I went outside and called the boys over to the tree. They both (approximately 480 pounds) drove up in the girls little go-cart. Envision the Incredibles, if you would. I showed them my trophy snake, much like David probably did with that melon trophy head of Goliath that he took back and placed at the Jerusalem city limit sign. I, like David, had defeated the enemy. The boys thought it was quite funny, I was quite proud. The enemy had gone down. That snake is now a symbol for all other snakes to know this is protected property. Tremble snakes, tremble! They can't pass through our place any time they please. Not this place. No enemies allowed here.
I haven't always done the MOM thing right. I've made many mistakes. There have been times, though, that I fought off the enemy successfully with the Word of God. I know the importance of that now more than ever before. If I take that job seriously, protecting my family, through prayer, from the evil one, there could one day be a crown and scepter set aside for "Supermom - Snake Killer".

A few more pictures!

Here are the "four generations". Great-nanny, Lolli, Daddy, and Eli. Also, notice how he is holding on to my finger! He loves me so much already! Thank you Jesus! As you can tell with all the aunts and uncles, the holidays are going to be wonderful. We are already getting our house ready for Eli's first visit.

He is here!

Have you ever seen a baby more beautiful? Elijah Ryan was born to Kyle and Jade on Friday, October 19th about 2:30 p.m. He is so sweet. On Thursday the little fella wasn't moving at all, even with "encouragement" from the doctor. He gave us a pretty good scare, but all is well, and he is absolutely amazing. He loves to eat, just like his daddy! Uncle Adam drove up from Lubbock, Aunt Kayla and Uncle Kevin were there, and Lolli (me) and Aunt Hannah, Aunt Leah, and Aunt Rachel left at 4 a.m. to be there for Eli's arrival. Poppa (Michael) didn't get to come until Sunday after a funeral. Great-nanny and Great-aunt Christy surprised us all and showed up on Saturday morning. The little guy got the majority of the family in the first 24 hours of living! Oh my, there are really no words to describe the emotion of holding such a precious one. The sweetness of seeing your first-born hold his first-born and look at him with eyes full of joy and undeniable love, is something I reflect on often. The heaviness of wondering if I showed him well-enough how to be a loving, supportive, patient parent is something on which I also often reflect. My prayer is that Kyle will be so sensitive to the Father, and listen to His teaching, nudging, and guidance, so that all the places I fell short, he can still do it right.

Welcome to the family, little Eli. You are beautiful. Father, set this child apart to be a warrior for You. Teach him through his sweet daddy and mommy how to love You and fear You. I'm thankful that Kyle and Jade will train him up in the way he should go. Give them strength and rest and prepare them for the many years of training ahead. Hedge them up with Your protection, Lord. Thank You, Jesus for this precious one. We love him alot. Oh yeah, and I would like to put my order in for a lot more just like him. Just to give You a "heads up"! I love you, Lord. Thanks again.

If you are ever driving down I-45 on a Sunday morning and decide you want to go to Cowboy Church, this man will meet you at the door. Don and Lucy, along with their daughter and son-in-law, grandkids, and a couple of great grandkids, were members here when we came. They all are so sweet and have the lightest, prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen. When we first came, anytime Michael would tell me about one of them, he would say, "They are part of the "blue-eyed family". That's how I knew who he was talking about.
Lucy has a precious heart, and the best way for me to describe Don is that he is a gentle man with a servant's heart. They have walked through many storms as a family and just keep getting stronger and loving the Lord more every day. It wasn't until the death of their one month old great grandson that Lucy told me she hadn't been a Christian but a couple of years. I was very surprised because she seemed so strong. We stood in that hospital corridor and she shared with me that Don had prayed for her for years, wanting her to go to church with him. Finally, she went with him to Cowboy Church and she accepted Jesus. God has grown her fast and she is a comfort to so many others with her faith.
One day I noticed a hand mirror wired up on the pole right outside the front door of the church. I went to see what it was and it didn't take long for me to know exactly what it was being used for. After the service starts, Don stands right inside the door. He can see when someone comes from the south but wasn't able to see if someone was walking up from the north. He wired the mirror up so he could make sure EVERYONE would have an open door when they came up. I was driving the other day and the song "Softly and Tenderly" came on. It reminded me of Don. You see, every Sunday morning Don gives us a picture of God. We know that God is our "El Roi" - our "God Who sees". If He wasn't, I believe He would have mirrors wired to poles all over the place because He wants to miss no-one. In the song it says, "See on the portals He's waiting and watching, Watching for you and for me. Come home, Come home. Ye who are weary, come home. Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling. Calling, Oh Sinner, come home."
Don, this gentle man, will meet you at our door. This gentle man who prayed his wife and family through the door. He wants you to meet Jesus too.
Thank you Father for having them in this place. Thank you for their precious hearts and willing hands.