Some through the waters, some through the flood...

My wonderful father-in-law, Gene Rorvig, passed away yesterday; just about a month after my brother Ray's passing. Once again, I need to take some time to process this loss before I can adequately express what Gene meant to me and others. He was such an example of everything that a man should aspire to be. Our family is understandably broken-hearted; but we know that God is most near those who are broken-hearted, and has promised to bind up our broken-ness.

Our friends have been so very kind to us, and so sympathetic. They ask how we can handle losing two important people in one month's time. The truth is, without our faith in God and the reality of heaven; we would be crushed. But we know this is a temporary parting; and one day we will have all of eternity to enjoy with our family.

There is an old hymn we used to sing that has become so real to me these past few weeks. It goes something like this:

In shady green pastures, so rich and so sweet,God leads His dear children along;Where the water's cool flow bathes the weary one's feet,God leads His dear children along.

Some through the waters, some through the flood,Some through the fire, but all through the blood;Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,In the night season and all the day long.

Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright,God leads His dear children along;Sometimes in the valley, in darkest of night,God leads His dear children along.

Some through the waters, some through the flood,Some through the fire, but all through the blood;Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,In the night season and all the day long.

Though sorrows befall us and evils oppose,God leads His dear children along;Through grace we can conquer, defeat all our foes,God leads His dear children along.

Some through the waters, some through the flood,Some through the fire, but all through the blood;Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,In the night season and all the day long.

Away from the mire, and away from the clay,God leads His dear children along; Away up in glory, eternity's day,God leads His dear children along.

Some through the waters, some through the flood,Some through the fire, but all through the blood;Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,In the night season and all the day long.

Jesus, you are a faithful friend, and I can hear your song, even in this night season.

***

Days that Count

My 6 year old grandson, Ethan, is fascinated with calendars. Actually, he loves anything with numbers. Ethan has Aspberger's Syndrome. It's a very high functioning form of autism that sometimes includes a level of excellence; even perhaps genius in some cases. We don't know for sure how smart Ethan is, but this 6 year old can add and subtract almost anything. Time will tell how far he will go mathmatically. At his young age, I don't thing Ethan really connects the significance of what those numbers on the calendar mean. They are just numbers. I love calendars too, but mainly for the artwork and the ability to write down something which will surely slip my 5o -something mind if not recorded properly. But you know, I've been doing a lot of thinking about what those numbers on my new Norman Rockwell calendar really represent. They are more than just squares with appointments hastily scribbled in them. They are 24 hour sections of time. And something important will happen on each one of those days. I don't know what, for sure. But God does. Ecclesiastes says that there is a time and a purpose to every thing under heaven. And I wonder to myself, what is the purpose for January 9th, 2009? For some it will be significant; noted by births, deaths, marriages, and the like. For others it will seem mundane; just another day. Moses prayed that God would teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. (Psalms 90:12) Does this mean to just put another X on the calendar? No, I don't believe so. I think we are supposed to look for the purpose in each day. Our purpose. I wasn't here in the 1800's. It wasn't God's plan for me to be here until now. I am part of that grand purpose; this is my time, right now! Those squares on the calendar are a gift from God. I don't want to squander a precious moment. I'm so grateful that I am here; and that you are here with me. Let's not just count our days; Let's make our days count in 2009.

***

Ray

Written for Raymond Miller


If you knew my brother; you know how hard it is to adequately describe him. Ray lived his life with such gusto that he just reminds me of a 4th of July fireworks display.

When I was a little girl; Ray and Sandy would come home every year on leave. We were all so excited to see them. On the day of arrival, I would get butterflies in my stomach and become really nervous. I knew he was going to come sweeping into the room; hug dad, swing mom around the kitchen a few times while crooning “the Yellow Rose of Texas”, then head right for me. He’d scoop me up into his arms and put me onto the ceiling. This was at the same time exciting and frightening to me. He always had a way of exciting people while giving them butterflies in their stomachs.

Ray always evoked this emotional response from those around him; because he himself was so passionate. And whether he was putting you on the ceiling; talking politics; singing cowboy songs or driving a 65 Mustang; he did it with enthusiasm. (I won’t go into a ride I had out Chuckanut Drive one time in his Porsche, but suffice to say it was exciting!)

Here’s what I know for sure about Ray. He loved us all with his whole heart. If he disagreed with you; he’d tell you in no uncertain terms. If what he said was politically incorrect; he didn’t care. He wasn’t concerned with what people thought about him. He was concerned about what people thought. And at the same time he would have given his life without hesitation for any of us or anyone. And he spent his life serving our country.

I will never look at a fireworks display without thinking about Ray. Every time I see a jet stream soaring toward the heavens or hear an airplane overhead; his memory will come to me. I’ll think of him every morning at school when they say the flag salute, and when I see an eagle or a Veterans Day parade. When I hear a cowboy song it will be his voice I hear.

I am so proud of my brother. I am proud of the life he lead; his service to his country; and for the way he battled to live. He definitely did not go gentle into that good night. Ray, I salute you for being ever the soldier.