I have NO IDEA who ANY of these people are, but when I googled “HaPPy BirthdAy, Luke,” they showed up. SEE? Everybody LOVES Luke Bodley – the great brains behind Heaven Fest!
And here is my card and it is almost right (30-2=28, which is really what you are). So save it for 2 years, will you?
Seriously, Luke – you make life an adventure. You make it crazy and adrenalin-filled. In fact, it is so exciting and frightening hanging out with you and doing Heaven Fest, you have probably shaved 3 or 4 years off my life expectancy. But what a ride! Loving it. Love you, too!
Dang! I have gum in my mouth again. But you look great in your purple shirt, Luka!
You are a genius, Luka. I hope I live to see you become the crazy, eccentric billionaire you are destined to be! “I knew him when…” I’ll say!
The best gift that I ever got
Didn’t really cost a lot
Didn’t have a ribbon ’round
And sometimes made a terrible sound
When you had surgery in January and I sat with you in the low lights of the hospital room as you recovered, I was struck with a deja vu so strong it nearly knocked the wind from me. There you were, my baby – grown, but fragile, capable and strong, yet set back and breakable. But I also saw myself….
Tara at 4
I was taken back in my memory to Broadway Methodist in Merrillville, Indiana 31 years ago, to me in a hospital bed, a brand new mommy/so young – having just delivered this mysterious bundle of blond joy. It was after dark, the room lights were low then too, and I was getting acquainted with you for the first time. I looked at that perfectly round, tiny head and the gentle slow movement of your eyes daring to open and look up at me. With great reservation I examined your hands and the contour of you, absolutely terrified to unwrap you and soak in the whole of you. I had been afraid to intrude.
But the connection I felt was beyond anything I had ever experienced. The intensity of emotion, as I’d approached labor with gritted teeth, determined to control my “situation” and handle it without “bothering anyone,” suddenly became stronger than my organized plans. When the labor room nurses scolded me for not letting them know how close I was to birth, for not arriving sooner (for I’d only at the hospital for 30 minutes and had nonchalantly received the hospital gown and instructions as if I had all day), I wondered why they couldn’t understand that I was alone, that I’d been pregnant alone, that I would birth alone and somehow in silence, I would make my own wrongs right…all alone. Understand, of course, that my skewed understanding was that of a teenage girl who did not understand that I’d never been left, never forsaken.
But then one, two, and barely 3 pushes and there you were – the girl I secretly hoped for, but had never allowed myself to believe I’d get. You were perfect and pink and easy. And they plopped you on me like a basket of laundry and you barely made a sound, though transcendance thundered through my body and I trembled with awe.
The best gift that I’ve ever known
I’ve always wanted most to own
Yet in my dreams of sugar and spice
I never thought it could be so nice
But later, in that room, just us two, I knew that you were mine, a gift straight from God. “I don’t know you yet, but I know I love you,” I whispered, wondering who you’d be and if you could ever love me back. Yet, even then, in the dim light, when you looked at me, I sensed that already, this baby, this gift from God for me in spite of myself, already understood and was joined to my heart. The deep communion of that perfect night between you, me and God, {deep breath} ~ I was certain I could read your heart and you mine, as if we were communicating on some empathetic plane. I truly believe He was there, our Father, in that room, sealing our relationship, blessing our future. And I knew I was no longer alone, however self-exiled I’d been.
The best gift I could ever get
Was sometimes dry and sometimes wet
Was usually pink, but oftentimes red
As she lay so innocently in her bed
Mercy was rewriting my life that night in a way I had no words to express. The gift of God, eternal and true was being visited upon me in the most humbling way possible. For the merciful gift of this baby girl who would become to me my joy, my very own proof of the amazing grace and endless love of the Father for me, to me and through me ~ left me speechless. I needed mercy. And through you, my sweet Tara, I have found it again and again.
And here is what I knew in January after your surgery and what I know every day and everytime I am around you: You are one of the most incredible human beings on the planet, a woman I admire and love beyond belief. You are grace and mercy and joy. And I am so pleased to call you mine.
The best gift of the year to me
The one I hold most dear to me
The gift that simply drove me wild
Was my tiny, newborn child.*
Happy Birthday, Tara. Mercy and joy, grace and peace back to you, my gracious gift of God.
*LYRICS: The Best Gift by Barbra Streisand. Bill Tull and Mary Tiller sang this at your dedication service June 1979, as suggested by Bill. I’d never actually heard it before then (from one of her early Christmas albums), but it was true of you. Still is.
Elise-the-Niece, the very personification of spring, is here for a visit on her way from almost a year on the YWAM base in Hawaii back to Aberdeen, SD and her family.
Things of spring: MY LIST~
Hunter, Gavin and Guini; Guini and Averi ~ artwork on the patio
Sidewalk chalk and seed packets.
Salad greens and spring showers.
Blue skies and garden bunnies.
Family birthdays and family food daze.
Birdsong and backyard play.
Sugar snap peas and Cherry Belle radishes.
Grandbebe chatter and catching up with neighbors over the fence.
Home Depot then home work.
Sidewalk sweeping and wagon pulling.
Clean windows and fresh air.
The boys building forts and digging holes for buried treasure.
Perennials popping up around the pond.
Sprouts in the garden and sproutonline.com
Petunias and pansies.
Lilies and lilacs.
The lawnmower’s roar and squeak of the swing.
Azure-blue dusk and snow-capped mountain horizons.
The smell of hot soil and the intoxicating scent of wet cedar mulch.
Fertilizer and polished furniture.
The whoosh of kids swinging and the wind’s soft whisper.
The grill fired up and sweet girls dressed up.
Terra cotta pots and tomato seedlings.
Bright lights and short nights.
The Kelley kids at church one evening last week; Elise-the-niece with Amelie Belle, the newest of the grandbebes.
April hath put a spirit of youth in everything. ~William Shakespeare
Stormie and Amelie; GemGem and her Aunt Tara; Stormie and Guinivere. At Stormie’s family birthday dinner.
Celebrating with mi familia! Happy Birthday, again, Stormie Dae Rhoades, spring baby and lovely girl! The grandbebes eating.
In springtime, love is carried on the breeze. Watch out for flying passion or kisses whizzing by your head. ~Terri Guillemets
Wrex and Stef with the birthday girl. The cookbook holder Wrex made for Stormie with his own two, bare hands! Same as the high-ticket model at Anthropologie. But better! Wrex practicing eating while holding a baby. He vows a tiny human being will not interefere in this department!
If you’ve never been thrilled to the very edges of your soul by a flower in spring bloom, maybe your soul has never been in bloom. ~Terri Guillemets
The coconut cake for Stef and Elise, icing/filling kinda to die for. Tara singing a song Stormie wrote for part of her birthday gift. Fruit Pizza is ever-so-much-more-scrumptious the next morning. Approximately 3872 calories. And I HOPE I am only kidding!
Outside after dark: the boys building their fort. Averi and GemGem, best cousins…just before the tragic accident. Gemma “ran right into” Hunter’s construction site and got quite the owie on her face. But a band-aid and a kiss makes everything better. That and getting some attention.
“Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.” ~ Rainer Marie Rilke
Stormie with Grandma Moslander, early 1987, almost 1
She’s the baby-gotta love her!
My little Stormiekins. How I love you, chica! Can you even imagine how much? Can you comprehend what I see when I look at you? Me, with a million words, yet, unable to fully express how brightly you shine in my universe, how fully you fill my heart with joy, how rich you have made our family?
The last of 5 children (all born in less than 7 years!), you came along and became the opus, the grand total of us all. I was only 26 when you arrived, barely understanding adulthood and living in the happy chaos that is toddler-world. With three “big,” (and I use that term loosely) sisters and one big brother already here, who will she be, we wondered? And we couldn’t have planned it, nor even asked for such a perfect fit. But God knew.
And if I should ever go away
Well, then close your eyes and try to feel
The way we do today
And then if you can remember
And, oh, what a treasure you are to us, to me. Your are an honoring daughter which makes me happy because, girl? I want it to ge WELL! with you! So keep it up! And your faithfulness to the things you have committed yourself to and the things God has called you to inspires me so. I love your sweet voice and willingness, quiet and reserved as you are (and never afraid to work quietly behind the scenes), to leadworship – to raise your song in praise and invite the youngones to follow along. Yeah, Stormie!
You are loyal to a fault and so creatively, over-the-top, abundantly, self-sacrificingly, Holy-Spirit-empowered in your giving. Your generosity has touched people around the world and I know why God has blessed you monetarily at such a young age: because He has anointed you to give and He trusts you with the job!
I have wept over you when I have watched the enemy come to steal your heart and your hope and I have been comforted by you when the same craphead has tried to take mine. We haveprayed together and sangtogether and you’re the best driver of all my kids and I am not just saying that because I was the one who taught you. Or maybe I am. But you are sooooo special to me, Stormie Dae.
Keep smilin’, keep shinin’
Knowin’ you can always count on me, for sure
That’s what friends are for
For good times and bad times
I’ll be on your side forever more
That’s what friends are for
As a baby, you were a delight (and the first girl who could handle Rocky’s antics) and as a woman, you are my beloved daughter and trusted friend. Which is why I have included Carol Bayer Sager’s amazing song, which just happened to be Billboard’s #1 hit of the year when you were born in 1986, That’s What Friends are For.
For the song epitomizes the kind of person you havebecome, the kind who will, in good or bad times, be on a person’s side. You are a person who can be counted on and I thank God for you. I thank Him for knowingwhat this family needed when He surprised us with you! I am so glad He gifted me with you even when I didn’t think I had it in me. Thank-you for living out God’s call so beautifully, Stormkins.
Well, you came and opened me
And now there’s so much more I see
And so by the way I thank you
And then for the times when we’re apart
Well, then close your eyes and know
These words are comin’ from my heart
And then if you can remember
Keep smiling, keep shining
Knowing you can always count on me, for sure
That’s what friends are for
I am so pleased with you, Stormie Dae. I am so thankful for you and delighted with the way you have turned out. Happy Birthday, sweetie-pie. Your mama adores you. There’s so much great stuff ahead.
In good times, in bad times
I’ll be on your side forever more
Oh, that’s what friends are for
Stormie being silly and Stormie with her sister and www.MayDae.com partner, Stephanie
Keep smilin’, keep shinin’
Knowin’ you can always count on me, for sure
That’s what friends are for
For good times and bad times
I’ll be on your side forever more
That’s what friends are for
Keep smiling,keep shining
Happy Birthday to the baby. I will be on your side for ever and for always.
QUICK CLICK for full, crazy, sentimental effect: The mood music
My little brother, Joe, turns 49 today. When we were little, when we were “Jeanie and Joey” way back when, he was my best friend and confidante. I was bossy and he needed to be bossed. I was forthright and opinionated and he was the gentle listener who appreciated my opinions. I talked. He listened and drew pictures. He became an accomplished artist and I, a talker.
One time he quietly saved me from drowning and another time he saved me from something much worse. He risked a lot to be in my corner during a really hard time…or two. He has spent his life teasing me, tormenting me, aggravating me and protecting me. I have spent mine acting like I am always right and challenging him to boxing matches (which I win, of course, because gentle Joe would never hurt a girl).
For a lot of years, marriage and raising kids and careers and life made what we once shared so closely (he was my first nap and room-mate) a sweet, but distant memory. But then the melancholy of years and a deep, abiding love reminded us to reset our priorities and to be not only a brother and his big sister (he now calls me his “little sister” which is all the more reason to love him), but to be friends – the kind who are God-sent and will never let you go. For that is what I have in Joe.
During those interim, busy-life years, I once almost lost Joe permanently and I didn’t even know. I was living my own life and he was dying, coding repeatedly one night after he collapsed doing police work at the airport. Thinking now about what I’d have missed if he hadn’t made it makes me nag him and check his pacemaker for malfunction when I see him. His strong, steady heartbeat is very important to me.
He was my first best-friend. At times, moving around like we did as kids, he was my only friend. Now? Friends to the end!
Forgive my sentimentality, but I have put together 10 minutes (!!!) of pictures of me and ‘the Joey.’ And I added “mood music” because this is how I want to tell him how happy I am that he was born on April 14, 1961. Plus I am all melancholy and sentimental.
I know you are probably thoroughly embarrassed now, Joe-Joe, but I don’t care. It is what I do. You KNOW I’ve got the “Joey-Joey-Joey-Joey
down in my heart!” And I love ya! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! So glad, so so glad you were born to be MY brother!
Now and Forever by Carole King
Now and forever
you are a part of me
And the memory cuts like a knife…
Now and forever
I'll remember all the promises still unbroken
And think about all the words between us
That never needed to be spoken
We had a moment
Just one moment
That will last beyond a dream,
Beyond a lifetime
We are the lucky ones
Some people never get to do
All we got to do
Now and forever
I will always think of you
Didn't we come together
Didn't we live together
Didn't we cry together
Didn't we play togetherDidn't we love together
And together we lit up the world
I miss the tears
I miss the laughter
I miss the day we met
and all that followed after
Sometimes I wish I
could always be with you
The way we used to do
Now and forever
I will always think of you
The final curtain fell on Prairie Playhouse’s production of Annie 2 weeks ago now. It was a great show. Dave was amazing as Daddy Warbucks. The cast had great chemistry. The orphans were not only adorable, but very talented! Director Shauna Dunlap did a great job of putting the show together and getting the best out of everyone. Don Dupree led the orchestra and did a great job.
Our entire family continues to sing Annie tunes when we are together…and even when we we’re not!
From backstage
If you are Dave’s friend on Facebook, you can see gazillions of pictures from the production. Please note my antique desk, my chair, my Christmas tree, my dog and my husband. I would like my contributions recognized. : )
Friends and family and neighbors attended every single performance. There was always a line of people waiting to get pictures with Daddy Warbucks and Annie!
Jovan’s nieces Mikhaila and Bella and their friends; Amy Anderson and Linda Timmerman came all the way from Nebraska!
Sister-in-law, Sharon from Eaton; Jared and Kristie A., Rocky, Marilyn and Corky
Dancing and singing on stage
The final bows, a fond farewell
So, for Dave’s birthday a few days later, the girls whipped together a little Daddy Warbucks theme.
You can speed up or slow down the slides by clicking on the plus or minus symbols and to read the caption, just place the cursor on the picture as it goes by.
We did all don bald caps to surprise him, but I am not allowed to show that. Or I won’t. Whichever.
NOTE TO DAVE: You were great, honey. Seeing you jump on furniture and dance, watching you act,
seeing your have so much fun – was great! Yet, no.
I am not OK with you growing long-long hair for Peter Pan. Huh-uh. No. I am not seeing that.
It’s called a wig. Check it out.
Portraits by Dani, the photos from the actual play
Big sister Averi loves her new baby; Poppa with the tiny bundle.
A little after 3 pm, Amelie Belle was born to Rocky and Jovan Rhoades (and big sister, Averi) weighing in at 8 pounds, 13 ounces, 20 1/2 inches long. She is absolutely gorgeous! Gorgeous! And her name is the French version of Emily, pronounced ah’-ma-lee, as in awwww….so cute!
Amelie is about an hour old in this photo. Cute family, yes?
I now have 6 grandbebes! I am blessed!
Baby and mommy are doing well. Daddy is tired, but happy and Averi seems unfazed by everything, just happy for the huge party going on at the hospital because between the Rhoades-Powers-Kelleys and the DiPerna-Carter-Roberson clans: Platte Valley Hospital thinks the Osmonds have descended! Amelie was greatly anticipated and is loved by bunches of people. With as many flashes going off as there were all afternoon, you’d have thought Brad and Angelina just showed up on the red carpet. Good times!
See? Lots of us! I am mesmerized!
A little fun and frolic in the waiting room that we sort of took over. Tea parties, bingo, Legos, video and computer games and snacks!
I was wrong. We are so close, but no grandbebe, yet.
Labor started,
then ceased. Pooey.
¶
IN OTHER FAMILY NEWS: Last night at Chilis, where the Adams County Coroners were apparently convening, and I hope no one was “hanging around” in those shiny vans…if you know what I mean, as we were waiting to be seated, Dave was “recognized” by a group of about 6 or 7 young kids who all started smiling at him and waving, giggling and taking his picture. He is famous in Brighton. (Tredessa and Stormie had just taken him jeans shopping because he doesn’t know how to highlight his assets, so to speak).
¶
And MayDae did 2 posts on the fundraiser decor they did for the WWM/Heaven Fest dinners the past couple of weeks. Go look! www.maydae.com (www.heavenfest.com)
We had the craziest, zaniest dump of snow yesterday. Blue skies and warm temps turned into one of those howling Little-House-on-the-Prairie snow blizzards, following a fierce rainstorm. Weird day. But closing lots of offices and all the schools down, this will be a great day to focus on our new little grandbebe: #6! Yeah! We are excited. To the hospital, soon, we hope…with our brownies and M & Ms and cameras and joyousness!
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes…
IN OTHER BABY NEWS: Wrex and Stef just found out this morning that they are having a GIRL! What a wondrous day! Stef’s FB says “Big bows, animal prints and lots of pink, here we come!” They are due on 8-9-10, which is a pretty cool date, yes? Their first! Happy, happy!
Maybe far away
Or maybe real nearby
He may be pouring her coffee
She may be straighting his tie!
Maybe in a house
All hidden by a hill
She’s sitting playing piano,
He’s sitting paying a bill!*
He was born “Baby boy Bigham” on March 23rd, fifty-one years ago to a young girl in rural Kansas who would leave the hospital without him. When he was 5 days old, the Rhoades family signed adoption papers and picked him up there, where he’d been left to himself those first important days. That precarious beginning is probably why little David Allen Rhoades, a gentle-hearted, deeply-dimpled boy grew up to be such a family man, so devoted to creating a large, loving, caring and loyal family. And why his motto is, and the kids still laugh about it, “Never go against the family,” from The Godfather.
*Betcha they’re young
Betcha they’re smart
Bet they collect things
Like ashtrays, and art!
Betcha they’re good —
(Why shouldn’t they be?)
Their one mistake
Was giving up me!
So maybe now it’s time,
And maybe when I wake
They’ll be there calling me “Baby”…
Maybe.
Foresight.
When Dave married me and took Tara as his own daughter on July 23, 1981, he alleviated my parents’ fears for her future by telling them he now understood why he’d been given in adoption. He found purpose, believing he could become her daddy and they’d have that special *chosen* bond in common, something they would understand about each other.
And when he proposed, he looked into our future and told me, “I want you to be the mother of my children.” I could not have comprehended the depth of the honor of that request in that moment, lovesick and swept away by emotion as I was. But in saying yes! I do! I have reaped the benefit of being married to a man who has been committed to building a lasting heritage, a legacy that will live on for a very long time.
*Betcha he reads
Betcha she sews
Maybe she’s made me
A closet of clothes!
Maybe they’re strict
As straight as a line…
Don’t really care
As long as they’re mine!
He is…
He is an extraordinary “poppa,” loving those grandbabies zealously. As for his passionate love for his children? His pride and pleasure in the people his children have become and the spouses they have chosen? It’s evident in his beam when he speaks of them to his students or friends.
He teaches. He preaches. He stretches his own canvases and paints in color. He sings and dances and acts – on stage! He writes books and has story after story inside him – just waiting to be told!
He is honoring to my mom and respects my dad so much. He is a pal to my siblings and loves the nieces and nephews. He reminds me to call my mom and anytime I mention going to visit my parents he says: Do it, honey. You shouldgo.They’ll like that.
Dave is a thoughtful man, making sure the toilet ring is never up to surprise me, and he never forgets to take the trash out on the right day. He’s man enough to buy *woman-stuff* for me and just seems to divine when I must have a Cheetos night 2 or 3 times a year – as if he just knew that nothing else on that night would suffice.
He does dishes and laundry (not big on folding, but he hangs anything and everything that can be hung and seems to enjoy it – which is why I will keep letting him do it). He cooks for me if I need him to and tucks cash in to my wallet just because. He charges my phone, fills the gas tank and carries heavy stuff for me.
Dave is a nice guy and a good husband. And I am mostly thankful that even though I kinda think I am, he tells me I am not crazy. And he sees my drive and tendency to jump into the deep end of life (he has called it, going at everything in life “like a house on fire“) as me being passionate, alive and lively. And he likes that about me.
Loving and loved.
So today, I celebrate Dave’s life. Even though 51 years ago he was alone, today he is surrounded by hundreds of students and family and friends and even fans (he was a spectacular Daddy Warbucks) who know his worth and his value and how lucky they are to know him. I know I am.
And I am happy that he spent the last 6 months getting that A1c level down from 13-14% to 6% and has taken huge strides in reversing his Type 2 Diabetes! He is healthier now than he has been for 5+ years. I have always loved those Perry Mason-broad shoulders and I am so proud of him, he is looking good! So glad that we’ll be celebrating his birth and the life he lives for many years to come!
Happy birthday, my husband. I love you. I am loving all the changes.
And so glad the hair will be growing back now, too!
*So maybe now this prayer’s
The last one of it’s kind…
Won’t you please come get your “Baby”
Maybe…
Pictured: Top, Dave at age 1, then at age 4 or 5 with his mom and in April 1981 speaking at chapel at Northwest Bible College just before he graduated. Next, Dave and the original 4 daughters at Stonebrook Manor last week. Then, watching a video of his Annie performance with some of the grandbebes one Sunday night (Gavin, Guini, Gemma, and Averi); Next, Dave with some of the grandkids the night he was going to be getting his hair shaved off (Hunter, Averi, Guini and Gemma). Then, Dave at Stonebrook Manor for one of the fundraising dinners, Dave backstage with some “orphans” from Annie. Finally, Dave and I at Stonebrook Manor last week and on our way to a Heaven Fest potluck a couple of weeks ago.
*Lyrics: “Maybe” from Annie, the song that made Dave tear up at almost every performance over the past couple of months…because he understood…
