Sundays and Heart Friends

Honey would have loved last Sunday! 

Our entire married life, actually our whole lives, both of us spent Sunday all-mornings at church -- although she got out of the habit her one year at Baylor. Then, she married a minister of music, and the routine returned in earnest. Even after I retired from church staff music ministry, we continued the practice of spending Sunday mornings at church. And I still do; I just like it and it feels like home. 

Sunday morning church began as usual, at nearby Brentwood UMC 8:15 a.m. service. My pew mates -- Anne to my left, Kent to my right -- and I were displaced one row forward. A children's choir began the service and early arriving parents/grandparents apparently mistook "our seats" for theirs. But, that was okay, and we even "passed the peace" to them at the appropriate time. Nice folks they. Honey would always sit beside Anne; they enjoyed one another, sometimes a little too much and to the point that, on occasion, I had to call them down. Following a wonderful sermon, we had Communion, and then I scooted out to make a dash downtown to practice with Gordon who was singing an arrangement I scripted last summer.

'Twas a big day at FBC. The congregation approved a new ministry plan and also voted to sell a parking lot, half of which we had sold a few months ago using the proceeds of both to build a new education building that fronts and opens up to the now bustling Broadway. There is so much new development in our downtown neighborhood, we needed to improve our house also. FBC hasn't built a new building since the sanctuary in the late 60's for the church's Sesquicentennial Celebration (1970). Hopefully, the new building will be completed in time for the church's Bicentennial Celebration in 2020. 

As our pastor Frank delivered his powerful and personal sermon on congregational unity, I sat there celebrating that our church is a place of grace. Not all churches are; ours is and in large measure because our pastor is a person of grace and has been a model of grace for now nineteen years. Honey would have loved the service and being down there with our forty-year "heart friends" as she would say. 

I pulled in at Rafferty's for Sunday lunch and happened onto my thirty-year friend Lloyd who blurted out: 

"Are you here by yourself?"

Looking around in all directions, I responded, "it sort of looks that way."

"Why don't you join Sue and me?"

"Well, if it's okay with her, sure!"

"Yeah, she's nice and will be glad to have you."

I did, and it was a delight. He even used some of their "milk and egg money" to buy my lunch. Lloyd and Sue have been friends ever since they came to Nashville to become President and First Lady of the Baptist Sunday School Board in the mid-80s. Lloyd was a person whose counsel I sought several times when I was in full-time ministry. Those two are the real deal. 

Driving away in the fall beauty of the day, Honey came to mind. Being with "heart friends," hearing Gordon sing while I accompanied, meaningful worship, and then lunch with long-time friends, I could almost hear her say, as she often did -- "we are so blessed!" Sunday, we found out that a friend is going to have a baby. And they fact that this baby is out of wedlock would only draw Honey toward this sweet expectant mom even more, for one reason, because Honey was also born out of wedlock. There's little doubt that Honey would have traded  her usual Sunday afternoon nap for a trip to the fabric store to begin making a baby quilt for that special one. 

Yep, Honey would have loved Sunday.

Here are some good stanzas we sang downtown during worship -- sung to the tune, EIN' FESTE BURG (A Mighty Fortress is Our God). You know the tune; come on and sing it with me: 

In unity we lift our song

of grateful adoration, 

for brothers brave and sisters strong, 

what cause for celebration. 

For those whose faithfulness

has kept us through distress, 

who've share with us our plight

who've held us in the night, 

the blessed congregation.

For stories told and told again

to every generation, 

to give us strength in time of pain, 

to give us consolation. 

Our spirits to revive

to keep our dreams alive, 

when we are far from home

and evil seasons come; 

how firm is our foundation. 

For God our way, our bread, our rest, 

of all these gifts the Giver. 

Our strength, our guide, our nurturing breast

whose hand will yet deliver. 

Who keeps us till the day

when night shall pass away, 

when hate and fear are gone

and all our work is done, 

and we shall sing forever.

In Unity We Lift Our Song –
words Ken Medema, 1985

I love the images our friend Ken uses in this lyric. He sees many things far better than we.

- Mark

Update from Mark Edwards

Warning – Travelogue Ahead!

Since we visited last, I’ve made two trips a week-longer to Texas and a 36-hour-shorter to Macon, GA and back. Both were profitable and enjoyable.

Halfway during the flight to Texas, I broke the conversational ice across the empty seat between me and my several-year senior female row-mate, “I’m trying to decide whether to sleep or read” – having already done both.

“Yeah, I have that problem also sometimes.”

“Are you from Nashville?” I asked.

“No, I live in Tulsa; I’m returning from visiting with one of my sons in Columbia (TN).”

“Oh, I live in Brentwood.”

“I know where that is; my husband and I used to live in Nashville. He went to school there and then to school in Fort Worth.”

“I went to school in Fort Worth also – Southwestern Seminary.”

“He did, too!”

It turns out that she – Bev Tresch – used to work at what was once the Baptist Sunday School Board. I told her of my time at First Baptist Church Nashville, and she spoke fondly of Dr. Franklin Paschall who was pastor when we came to FBC. Later she reported having won a Speakers Tournament at our church when she was a teenager. She, Honey, and my now deceased long-time friend, Gayle Oldham, raised their kids at the same time. We talked about and celebrated Gayle’s husband, John, recent remarriage.

From there, we began talking about our deceased spouses, and Bev reported that she and her high school boyfriend had reconnected in recent years. 

“Do you get to see him often?”

“Maybe once a year. He lives in Tullahoma (TN) and sometimes we see one another when I come to visit my son. It’s nothing serious and we certainly don’t plan to get married. He’s a very nice gentleman and it’s good to connect again.”

“But no marriage plans, huh?” picking at her a little.

“No, you know what they say – ‘purse or nurse!’”

We had a good laugh. I hadn’t heard that one before and apparently she wants a part of neither. We continued back and forth. As we parted ways, I suggested that she add a couple more rhyming words to her adage – “curse and hearse.”  

I looked in on our 90-year-old Dad who is not have a good time at all in assisted living. He’s ready to “change his address” as he says, meaning to die. It would be merciful, indeed. He’s in pretty good shape for his age; my siblings and I only wish he could redirect some focus toward positive things rather than spending most of every day stewing over the dark side of everything. One day I loaded him up and took him down the hill a half-block to his former independent living spot for lunch with his former table mates. It was a grand time to be with Milton and Martha Smith and Eloise Fluth. He’s a “rock star” down there. Entering the place, the office folks came out to make over him. Other residents were so glad to see him, every dining hall waitress all gave him a big hug and even the kitchen crew made it a point to come out and see Mr. Edwards. Lunch was interrupted several times by people coming to greet him. Getting back in the car, it was back to the dark side rather than a grateful afterglow of what had been a delightful couple of hours. Too bad. I hope I can remember not to repeat such.

Brother Randy and I spent of a lot of quality time together, some of it traveling some 400 miles west to meet our cousin Tim and wife way west in Ft. Davis. It is serene and beautiful there and we had a great time in the same manner as last October.

From San Antonio to a night as sis Judy’s place – a great intermediate stop/visit/food midway toward Dallas. Beside blood-line, Judy and I share the loss of our spouses in 2015. Not a good year at either house.

Friday with Fort Worth friends – extended lunch with college roommate Royce and wife Patti, then overnight with the Springfield clan in Azle. The Springfields hosted Honey on weekends before we married. Their daughter Christy was 11 year old at that time; now she has a grandchild – which makes me 82, I’m sure of it. Yikes!

Before catching my return flight Saturday, I was able to have brunch with Honey’s high school friend/college roommate/wedding attendant Virginia. Virginia lost her husband unexpectedly last month. Fortunately, she has strong faith, a supportive faith family, and daughters nearby. She’s a strong gal and is going to make it, but right now is a tough time. To hear her bear witness to God’s work in her life through this unexpected tragedy is a blessing indeed.

Thinking about the people seen and places experienced in the last couple of weeks reminds me of this opening stanza of Psalm 24:

“The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.”

And close behind that thought is this old gospel song refrain that I love:

Some through the waters, some through the flood,
some through the fire, but all through the blood.
Some through great sorrow but God give a song
in the night season and all the day long.”

God Leads Us Along – G.A. Young

Update from Mark Edwards

Getting older has its down side for sure; but there are also good sides.  For one thing, the more years we’ve lived, the more of life we have experienced, if we have paid attention, our perspective is broader.  We seem to gain a greater sense of what really matters.  Franciscan priest Richard Rohr’s book Falling Upward talks about two halves of life.  The first half involves preoccupation with establishing one’s identity – climbing, achieving, and performing.  The second half usually associated with age involves challenges, loss of control, broader perspectives, and sometimes suffering. Rohr contends that this “falling down” is in fact moving upward, thus his book title.

Looking back, Honey’s two-year illness and eventual death seventeen months ago seems to have been the occasion for our transition into the second half of life. Her second half went by far too fast. I’m still greatly saddened by what she/we went through, I miss her every day and would have her back in a heartbeat; but I don’t regret my move, though forced, into this new territory.  I’m even beginning to enjoy the second half.  I reckon the fact that I’m still doing a bit of achieving and performing says that, to some extent, I may still be resisting that transition although it is different now – no climbing: I do those things because I can and want to rather than because I must.

In this space in days to come, maybe I’ll try to share some of my second half scenes, continuing to draw on the beauty and depth of hymnody that continues to light the path.  Here’s a good second half hymn scripted by a saint who may have lived most of her life in the second half. I think she had a bit of advantage – she was blind:

All the way my Savior leads me; what have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy, who through life has been my guide?
Heavenly peace, divinest comfort, here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know whate’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well.

All the way my Savior leads me; cheers each winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for every trial, feeds me with the living bread;
Though my weary steps may falter and my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the rock before me, lo! a spring of joy I see.

All the way my Savior leads me; oh, the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest for me is promised in my Father’s house above:
When my spirit clothed immortal wings its flight to realms of day,
This my song through endless ages: Jesus led me all the way.

All the Way My Savior Leads Me – Fanny Crosby 1875

Video: Mark Edwards Presenting at the Alleluia Conference at Baylor University

Notes From Susie co-author Mark Edwards explores the sustaining power of hymn texts in his session at the Alleluia Conference held at Baylor University in July of this year. Using as example his personal journey with his wife, Susie, through her two-year battle with cancer, Mark ponders and rejoices over the way their faith was buoyed by hymns, old and new.

The Sound of Singing: Personal Song for Susie by Ken Medema

Ken Medema is a musical artist that defies traditional description. He is a world class, classically trained pianist. He's an enchanting vocalist. And, he composes music and lyrics that compare with any top songwriter today. There's a reason he's been doing what he does for over 40 years and has a loyal fan base around the globe. But, there is something more that distinguishes him among his peers of noteworthy musicians. Medema has the incredible ability to instantly improvise a song on any theme and in any style, complete with contemplative or comedic lyrics that rhyme in all the right places. He has the uncanny ability to read the situation around him - the emotional climate, the spiritual atmosphere, - and weave all the elements together in a cohesive, meaningful piece of musical art that leaves his listeners empty of speech and full of thought. He's sought after for conferences, worship services, healing services, community building events because he tends to find just the right nugget of truth or theme to exploit into a song that brings everyone within hearing distance to an "Aha!" moment. Perhaps Ken's blindness helps him to see that which most of us miss. 

Ken met Susie and Mark when they were serving at First Baptist Church in Nashville. Mark booked Ken months in advance for a Sunday worship service in September of 2001. The date turned out to be providential. Ken wound up at Mark and Susie's church on the Sunday following the 9/11 attacks. That story will have to be told another time, and it certainly merits telling. But, this story is about a friendship that continued long after that momentous Sunday in Nashville. Mark, Susie, and Ken's paths crossed again and again through the years that followed. 

During one of Susie's very low health periods, Mark sought out Ken for one of his signature Personal Songs. Mark felt that Ken could put into words and song what they were experiencing and that this would be encouragement to Susie. Ken was well aware of what Susie ("Honey") had been battling, her abiding faith and joy, and her reliance on hymns. Medema worked his magic and delivered the most incredible song: The Sound of Singing. Here it is. It was a musical salve at a most dark time. May it also bring hope and healing to all who hear it. 

Listen exclusively here: 

www.kenmedema.com

Video: Mark speaks to Choral Festival attendees in Jacksonville, Florida, Part II

Please enjoy this video, the second of a two-part series, recorded live at the Inspire! National Choral Festival. It features excerpts from Mark Edwards' personal reflections on Notes from Susie: Choosing Gratitude in Life's Low Places. In Part Two, Mark shares the strength and support he and his wife drew from hymns of faith during their journey with terminal illness. The Festival took place in Jacksonville, Florida, in April, earlier this year.

Video: Mark speaks to Choral Festival attendees in Jacksonville, Florida, Part I

Please enjoy this video, the first of a two-part series, recorded live at the Inspire! National Choral Festival. It features excerpts from Mark Edwards' personal reflections on Notes from Susie: Choosing Gratitude in Life's Low Places. In Part One, Mark shares the story of his life with Susie, his wife whom he called "Honey", and their journey with terminal illness. The Festival took place in Jacksonville, Florida, in April, earlier this year. 

Reaction to Mark Edwards' Presentation: 

Mark Edwards has been a model of ministry in my life for years.  His mind, his music, his worship leadership and philosophy, and his overall ministry have helped to shape who I am and what I do.  A special strength of his life and work has always been the implementation of hymns.  These time-tested expressions of faith are integral to Mark’s effectiveness as a mentor, minister and friend.

It was not surprising, then, that his use of hymn texts was so incredibly significant in his presentation of NOTES FROM SUSIE.  I recently heard this presentation in Florida, to a room filled with hymn lovers and singers.  I noted that my response was similar to the  tears and nods of appreciation from across the room as Mark shared the story and resultant impact of the journey he and his beloved Susie had travelled during the months following her cancer diagnosis.  His words of wisdom about gratitude, his four pillars of description of God’s provision, and his use of so many poignant and powerful hymn texts (recited from memory!) were all incredible aspects to the presentation.

I heartily recommend NOTES FROM SUSIE to you.  The book itself, of course, coupled with Mark’s potent, effective presentation about its process and impact, are highly inspirational.   I was encouraged in the faith and found my spirit both soothed and strengthened.

Billy Orton, Minister of Music and Worship
First Baptist Church, Huntsville, AL

Encouragement and a "Sweet Amen of Peace" Unto All

I'm encouraged. A series of experiences the past couple of weeks, and as recently as worship this morning, lifts my outlook a bit. 

Like you, I am dead tired of all the us vs. them, me vs. you, this vs. the other that seems to permeate every corner of our culture these days. The election year political debate has only risen the expectation that this shall be the new normal. We can't seem to get on with much main business, show much positive progress in the world, or make any headway on serious issues around us because we're wasting our time and energies fighting the other side. And the more talk there is about people at odds with others, the more at odds we seem to become. 

But of late I'm encouraged. Here's why.

The first day of school in metro Nashville, some snafu in the central office resulted in school buses never showing up to pick up probably hundreds of students. The local evening news selected school mom Sarah Galloway to bear witness to the impact on her family of three bus-riding boys. She reported their inconvenience, but rather than throwing the school administration under the bus (that never showed up), she quickly praised her boys' teachers, principals, and those doing their best to fix the problem. Her testimony and photo even appeared in the local newspaper the next day. I was never more proud of a FBC Nashville "child, then teenager" and now a responsible adult in all my life. Sarah gets it!

One early morning last week I happened to do my walk with Dr. Cynthia Croom, the Executive Director of the Metro Action Commission who was telling me about her side job -- a non-profit that encouraged and equips African-American women in leadership positions to intentionally reach out to women of different cultures and religions in an attempt to understand them and hopefully build community with them for everyone's good. 

This past Sunday morning at Brentwood UMC, senior pastor Davis Chappell is in the middle of a sermon series entitled, "Counter Cultural." This week's installment was basically that we need to grow up, quit acting like babies, get along, be spiritual people, and live lives that look more like Christ our sure foundation than the carnal Corinthians in the early church. Then later downtown at FBC, student minister Tim Wildsmith preached a fine sermon about actually doing justice rather than only talking about it, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God. 

So I'm encouraged to see and hear some "counter-culture" sticking its head up. Oh sure, wars, rumors of war, and political rhetoric still are with us and will be, but we can all make some difference and have some positive impact as we walk our pilgrim journey. 

I told Sarah the other day her testimony reminded me of a line in the second stanza of "Lead On, O King Eternal" --

"...for not with swords' loud clashing or roll of stirring drums, [but] with deeds of love and mercy the heavenly Kingdom comes."

A "sweet amen of peace" unto all.

- Mark

An Update from Mark Edwards

Returning a few weeks ago from a trip to Texas for a speaking engagement at Baylor's Alleluia Conference, I mentioned making a couple of surprise connections. I told you about Karen in the Memphis airport. Here's a second: 

Having spent a night with my long-time friend and college roommate in Fort Worth and anticipating my Tuesday mid-afternoon presentation at the conference, I needed a quiet hour to review my notes before heading south to Waco. Royce and Patti don't live far from Southwestern Seminary and summer school there is pretty quiet so that would be the spot. I walked around the campus in and out of a building or two before landing on the Student Center. Ah, here's a place over here out of the way and there's nobody here other than the large, and I do mean LARGE display of taxidermied game animals -- a bear or two, half-dozen antlered beasts, birds, lions, perhaps even a buffalo, and who knows what else. I mean, this was the real stuff, and it was on display encased in serious Plexiglas. What any of it remotely had to do with theological education or student life beats me. But, at least those things were quiet, they would mind their own business, and surely there wouldn't be any random NRA sightseeing tour here this next hour. 

Heading to my scheduled table in the far corner, I did notice an office door open en route and someone sitting behind the desk -- Dean Nichols, Chaplain read the sign next to the door. Ok, whatever. Well into my self-imposed study hall, it dawned on me. "I remember a Dean Nichols. Nah, it couldn't be." I studied a little longer and soon it was time to leave. "I believe I'll stop by and introduce myself to Dr. Nichols. After all, I'm an alumnus of this place. He won't think it too strange."

Standing outside the door, but out of sight of the office occupant, I noticed all manner of bows and arrows, pistols, and other assorted weaponry. There were dozens of attractive bows neatly mounted on various sizes of planks of wood hung on the walls floor to ceiling. For a minute, I thought maybe this room was an outdoorsman gift shop or maybe those things were protection for the Student Center in case one of those animals out there was suddenly resurrected.

I knocked on the open door.  

"Hi, are you Dean Nichols?"

"Yes, I am."

"I'm Mark Edwards, and I'm just passing through. I graduated from Southwestern a long time ago and have lived out of state since. This is crazy and a long shot, but I used to know a Dean Nichols when I was youth director down in Kerrville. I can't remember if he sang in my youth choir or not, but I remember a Dean Nichols." 

"Well, if you told me not to sing and save my voice for the speaking parts, I may be your man."

"Are you from Kerrville?"

"Yes, I am."

"Does the name Susie West mean anything to you?"

"Yep, she was my first girlfriend."

Well, I knew that but I wanted to hear it from him. I had met Dean at some youth event when he, like Honey, was a mid-teenager. He went to one of the other Baptist churches in Kerrville, but Honey had told me about her first love. By the time I arrived on the Kerrville scene, they had moved on to other steadies. But, I certainly heard about Dean... more than once. 

"It seems like I remember that you lived somewhere up north -- Colorado, Wyoming, or some such."

"That's right -- Alaska! I pastored up there for 19 years."

"Yeah, nine kids in all -- we had six and then adopted three more." 

"You may or may not be aware that Susie died last year."

"Yeah, I heard about that. I'm sorry."

Who would have ever thought? Who could have orchestrated that "coincidence"? Driving toward Waco, I couldn't help but ponder Honey's life had she married Dean -- Alaska? She wore a fleece jacket most of the time working in her basement craft room even during the summer. Birthing six kids and adopting three? Her parents adopted three, including her, but birthing six? I think not. Apparently, Dean had done a fair amount of killing, likely gutting, and probably eating the fruit of his labor. Honey was adaptable, but envisioning her in that environment didn't really compute. I think things worked out right for her. 

Not sure there is any theological thread or spiritual significance to that story, but the immortal words of Garrison Keillor do come to mind -- "ain't that a deal!"

Here's a nice hymn we sang yesterday at Second Baptist Church in Memphis where I waved my arms. It is a hymn of thanksgiving -- not Thanksgiving Day -- but living a life of gratitude even in life's low places. The tune is the familiar Welsh folk melody ASH GROVE. Sing with me --

Let all things now living a song of thanksgiving

to God the Creator triumphantly raise, 

Who fashioned and made us, protected and stayed us, 

Who guideth us on to the end of our days. 

His banners are o'er us, His light goes before us, 

a pillar of fire shining forth in the night, 

till shadows have vanished and darkness is banished, 

as forward we travel from light into light. 

His law He enforces, the stars in their courses, 

the sun in its orbit, obediently shine. 

The hill and the mountains, the rivers and fountains, 

the deeps of the ocean proclaim Him Divine. 

We, too, should be voicing our love and rejoicing, 

with glad adoration a song let us raise, 

till all things now living unite in thanksgiving

to God in highest, hosanna and praise! 

"LET ALL THINGS NOW LIVING" -- WORDS BY KATHERINE K. DAVIS, 1939 © 1939, REN. 1966 E.C. SCHIRMER MUSIC CO.

For some reason, we didn't include this hymn in Notes From Susie. Thanks to many of you that have said good words about the book, especially about the new material before and after the condensed content from the Facebook updates. 

- Mark

Reaction to Notes From Susie - Mike Brayshaw

I first met Mark and Susie in the early 80s when my family moved to Nashville. My husband came to work with what is now known as Lifeway, and I worked for Mark as his Music Assistant at First Baptist Church. We have remained good friends all there thirty plus years as our children have grown up, married, and had families of their own. Even when jobs changed for my family that took us away from Nashville, the ties of friendship have always remained strong. My personal journey has been one that includes the loss of two godly, wonderful husbands. One died of terminal brain cancer, and the other from a sudden heart attack. Mark and Susie were there for me and my family each time. So, you might say that our families have a long standing "history"!

I am one of those people who have never been on Facebook, therefore, you know what generation that puts me in! Because I was a Facebook hold-out, when Susie was first diagnosed with her cancer, I missed the early part of her journey. Later, I received emails of the "notes" that Susie and Mark shared about their progress. I, like so many others, encouraged Mark to publish the notes because of their overwhelming message of gratitude. So many people face the ugly monster of cancer every single day and have nothing to help them navigate the depression and hopelessness it breeds. SUSIE KNEW HOW TO DO IT, and it needed to be shared. 

When Notes from Susie was finally published, I found myself putting off reading it. Somehow, I felt it would reopen the painful memories of the losses I had experienced. I preferred to keep them safely tucked away somewhere out of reach. But, then, a very close friend was diagnosed with breast cancer and was facing a similar journey as Susie. I purchased Notes from Susie for my friend, believing it would be helpful to her, however, I knew I couldn't give her the book without reading it myself. So I dove in, head first! What an unexpected blessing it was for me. The message of gratitude dispelled the painful memories that tried to emerge from those recesses of my mind... I was reminded again how very powerful the hymns can be. My sense of gratitude grew and grew as I read, and my soul was filled with God's song of life that lives on in spite of cancer and loss. Thank you, Susie, for showing us how to do it right and in a way most pleasing to our Father in heaven. 

I strongly recommend Notes from Susie for anyone facing cancer head on. It is truly a handbook for navigating the dreaded, treacherous road of treatment, not only for the one with cancer, but for the one, like Mark, who walks beside, cares for, and loves one through it all. 

For someone experiencing great loss and finds themselves in the throws of grief, Susie has a word for you as well: Dying is more about living. She did it well and taught us that trusting Jesus with a heart of gratitude is the key. 

And in the style of Susie and Mark, I raise this hymn...

Simply trusting ev'ry day, trusting thro' a stormy way;
even when my faith is small, trusting Jesus, that is all. 

Brightly doth his Spirit shine into this poor heart of mine;
While He leads I cannot fall, trusting Jesus, that is all.

Singing if my way is clear, praying if the path be drear;
If in danger, for Him call, trusting Jesus, that is all. 

Trusting Him while life shall last, trusting Him till earth be past;
Till within the jasper wall, trusting Jesus, that is all. 

Refrain: 
Trusting as the moments fly, trusting as the days go by;
Trusting Him whate'er befall, trusting Jesus, that is all. 

Trusting Jesus  - Words: Edgar Page Stiles, 1876
Tune: Trusting Jesus, Ira D. Sankey, 1876

- "Mike" Brayshaw

---

I have a very close friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer and was facing a long and difficult journey that would likely mirror a similar path as Susie traveled. I purchased Notes From Susie for my friend believing that the overriding message of gratitude would be helpful to her on her journey.

Well, my friend who knew about Susie, told me in no uncertain terms that she was NOT going to read a book about dying! I lovingly stepped back and simply prayed that God would open her heart to rethink her determination to NOT read the book!

The week before her first chemo infusion, she called me to tell me that she had spent a sleepless night reading SUSIE! Her very words were, "I am totally engrossed in Susie." Her depressive spirit lifted and you could see and feel the spirit of hope and gratitude begin to emerge. NOW, Susie is her "go to girl"! Every time she feels something or questions something regarding her journey, she says, "Susie said that...," or, "remember that Susie felt..."! It's been a beautiful transformation to watch and it is all about SUSIE! Thank you, Susie and Mark, for sharing your journey. 

PS: I just got a text from Elaine. She had her second infusion yesterday, and she texted that she spent much of last night during those bouts of sleeplessness, rereading SUSIE! This time with a yellow marker underlining all of Susie’s comments about low energy! For Elaine, that has been one of the hardest things for her to deal with. It helps her persevere knowing Susie felt the same thing!!

- "Mike" Brayshaw