Changes continue to flow through my days. My job is changing to fewer and perhaps no hours. My father-in-law is heading back to New York next week. Our days are often sunny and moderately warm. The evenings cool down and I sleep comfortably.
It’s the long good-bye before winter. It is a luxurious good-bye. We’re greeted with beautiful blue sky this time of year. The colors assault my eyes. Deep reds, blaze oranges and pale golds peep from summer’s green. They congregate in stands on hills. Leaves start to fall and disappear into the browns of tree trunks, fields and late fall.
The biggest change in our lives this year has been the inclusion of Dwayne’s dad into our home. Dwayne often speaks of the autumn of our parents’ lives. Fall is what prepares us for winter. I never have been as aware of this as I am now. We watch as his dad slows down and things become harder for him. I have begun to understand this cycle of life. Dwayne grew up in a nursing home. He watched many people grow old. This is a new experience for me and it has been exclusively with his Mom and Dad. Mom’s autumn was very, very brief. Dad is having a long and luxurious autumn. The colors are vivid and bright. As leaves fall, we become accustomed to those changes. We are privileged to spend his fall and winter with him. Life is a gift; tenuous at best. I’m learning to love this time with Dad as much as I love autumn in central New York.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
A Rose by Any Other Name
This morning, Dwayne asked me to e-mail him the link to my blog. He’s building a website for us to share. When I looked at the website, I noticed that he refers to me as ‘Madre’ which sent me down another rabbit trail. My real name is not Sue—never has been. When I was born, my parents picked out 2 different names. My father left the hospital and forgot to communicate a vital piece of information—which one he preferred. My mother chose the other name. When I came home from the hospital, my dad nicknamed me Sue. I answer to my legal name but only if I’m in serious trouble. I have close relatives that don’t know my real name. It’s a fact of my life. I went to the bank for my father-in-law recently and the teller was surprised. She knew me but was unaware of my “real” name.
Madre is another story altogether. When we moved to Newport in 1995, we met a man who greeted Dwayne with “Hello, Padre.” The nickname stuck and became the name of our pizzeria. When I ran the pizzeria, I became Madre. My employees called me that. Even our own children have been known to call me that. It’s another name associated with a different part of my life.
God knows our names. He has written mine in the Book of Life. He knows who we are no matter what we call ourselves. Even when we feel like we have no name, God calls us by name. He even tells us so in Isaiah 43:1 and 2:
But now so says Jehovah who created you, O Jacob, and He who formed you, O Israel; Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned; nor shall the flame kindle on you.
He not only calls us by name but walks with us through life—all of it.
Madre is another story altogether. When we moved to Newport in 1995, we met a man who greeted Dwayne with “Hello, Padre.” The nickname stuck and became the name of our pizzeria. When I ran the pizzeria, I became Madre. My employees called me that. Even our own children have been known to call me that. It’s another name associated with a different part of my life.
God knows our names. He has written mine in the Book of Life. He knows who we are no matter what we call ourselves. Even when we feel like we have no name, God calls us by name. He even tells us so in Isaiah 43:1 and 2:
But now so says Jehovah who created you, O Jacob, and He who formed you, O Israel; Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned; nor shall the flame kindle on you.
He not only calls us by name but walks with us through life—all of it.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Roses Will Bloom Again
As September opens with its sunny days, cool air and turning leaves, my family is experiencing change. My son just came home from the hospital for the third time in four months. My father-in-law is away visiting family for a few weeks. My husband just changed jobs. I start a new job this week. When you think you’ve got your schedule/family/life figured out, a change occurs. Your health might change. You might lose a spouse or a child. Your financial status can change. A job can be gained or lost. The changes are as many as the people that experience them.
There are two things in our lives that are constant. One is that Dwayne and I have loved each other for 29 years. Our love has waxed and waned over the years—even that is not perfect. We have three children, two boys and a girl. We survived five years in the Army together, including 3 years in Germany. We lived with my parents for a year. We even weathered the change while becoming a pastor’s family. I never wanted to be a pastor’s wife. I grew up in a parsonage. In fact, I am the great-granddaughter, grand-daughter, daughter and wife of a pastor. When Dwayne discovered that God was calling him to be a pastor, I went kicking and screaming all the way. That was 18 years ago. We moved 19 times in 28 years of marriage. We survived the severe chronic illness of our oldest son, the gain and loss of a business we loved, the loss of friends, the loss of jobs, the loss of grandparents and this year, the loss of Dwayne’s mom. Our middle son enlisted in the Army and spent the summer in basic training. Our daughter married last year. Our lives perpetually change. We’ve determined that we are not alone. Every life has an undercurrent of change, even if it doesn’t appear so.
The other, and most important constant, in our lives is our faith. Our faith in Jesus Christ has literally held us together. We could not walk through these variations on a theme without the love of God. It permeates our lives like the fragrance of a rose that has been cut and brought inside. He has loved us when we were obedient and He has loved us when we weren’t. All of our lives, God’s hand held us steady even when our world shattered. We learned that roses bloom again. It is part of the cycle of our lives. There is a time for roses to die and lie dormant and a time for them to blossom. They bloom in the garden every year. They bloom in our lives when God tells them to. Roses will always bloom again.
There are two things in our lives that are constant. One is that Dwayne and I have loved each other for 29 years. Our love has waxed and waned over the years—even that is not perfect. We have three children, two boys and a girl. We survived five years in the Army together, including 3 years in Germany. We lived with my parents for a year. We even weathered the change while becoming a pastor’s family. I never wanted to be a pastor’s wife. I grew up in a parsonage. In fact, I am the great-granddaughter, grand-daughter, daughter and wife of a pastor. When Dwayne discovered that God was calling him to be a pastor, I went kicking and screaming all the way. That was 18 years ago. We moved 19 times in 28 years of marriage. We survived the severe chronic illness of our oldest son, the gain and loss of a business we loved, the loss of friends, the loss of jobs, the loss of grandparents and this year, the loss of Dwayne’s mom. Our middle son enlisted in the Army and spent the summer in basic training. Our daughter married last year. Our lives perpetually change. We’ve determined that we are not alone. Every life has an undercurrent of change, even if it doesn’t appear so.
The other, and most important constant, in our lives is our faith. Our faith in Jesus Christ has literally held us together. We could not walk through these variations on a theme without the love of God. It permeates our lives like the fragrance of a rose that has been cut and brought inside. He has loved us when we were obedient and He has loved us when we weren’t. All of our lives, God’s hand held us steady even when our world shattered. We learned that roses bloom again. It is part of the cycle of our lives. There is a time for roses to die and lie dormant and a time for them to blossom. They bloom in the garden every year. They bloom in our lives when God tells them to. Roses will always bloom again.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
About Me
Hi, I'm Sue Durand. I am a woman, wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. I am a pianist at church and school. I’m a writer. I've been a wife for 29 years and a pastor's wife for the last 16. When we planted our church 2 years ago, I became co-pastor. It's an extension of my family history. My father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-aunts were pastors.
I’ve become a reluctant expert on mental illness—at least the one that shares my son with us--as well as the OCD that gallops through our family.
I’ve become a reluctant expert on mental illness—at least the one that shares my son with us--as well as the OCD that gallops through our family.
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