My Dad's Legacy, part 3

Dear Dad,
I used to think that missing you would get easier as more time passed. I am learning that in some ways it only gets harder as the weeks and months and years roll by. As life moves on without you, I often find myself wishing that I could call you on the phone, share stories with you, gain perspective from your wisdom. I wish that I could introduce you to all the new people I have met that never got the chance to know you. I wish I could run into your embrace when the days get long and responsibilities get harder. Most of the time I just wish you were here.

Two years ago today I was longing for the end to come, only because I could see the pain that overwhelmed your body and I wanted you to be free. I wish I could have taken that pain away from you, made your birth into heaven easier. And I wish the haunting memories of those last days did not sometimes push through the thousands of wonderful memories God gave me with you. So today, as I struggle to overcome the terrible memories of two years ago, I wonder what you are doing. I wonder what kind of marvelous work God has given for you to do. I wonder what you would tell us about heaven.


If God allowed me to sit by your side today, there are so many things I would want to thank you for, so many stories I would want to tell you. One of the things I loved and appreciated most about you was your unending zest for life. Everything a normal person would do, you did with a joy multiplied by 100. While you worked, you whistled. When you sang, you sang louder than anyone else...which used to annoy and embarrass me, but really, you were just offering the fullness of your heart to your Savior. Whenever you talked to anyone, you did it with a big smile on your face and an unmistakable interest in your voice. You had a way of making people feel valued and cared for. When you sat down to a good meal, you always clicked your tongue like you were about to dig into the best thing that ever happened to you. You truly lived more fully than anyone I have ever met.

Daddy, one of the things I loved about you most was how purposefully you led our family. You began each day long before anyone else in the house awoke, sitting in your special chair and spending time with Jesus. You were serious about memorizing Scripture, nearly the entire New Testament by the end of your life, because you knew that the Bible is the best parenting and life guide. You spent hours in prayer for us, pleading with God to tend to our hearts. I will never forget the day, only months before you went to heaven, that you looked at me with tears in your eyes and said, "ASH, make sure you pray for your mom after I'm gone." You loved her so much, and wanted to make sure that someone was covering her in prayer. You treasured and valued time with your family, and made it priority in our home from the very beginning. Dad, you took my hand and guided me gently into the Race, pleading with me to continue on even after you crossed the finish line with flying colors. Many people spend a lifetime with their fathers and never get what I had with you for 19 years. Though I will always wish I had many, many more years by your side, I will never stop praising Jesus for the gift He gave me in you. I love you!

Always your daughter,

My Dad's Legacy, part 2

Today has been hard. For those of you who have watched someone you love slip away before your eyes, perhaps you understand. This time of year, it seems like all the terrible memories come flooding back. I try to overwhelm them with the beautiful, forever-cherished memories, but the bad ones still seep in. To be completely, totally honest...death is the ugliest thing to scar this earth. There is no other way to describe it. I will spare you of the memories that haunt me, but please keep what I have shared with you in mind the next time you meet someone who grieves from the loss of loved ones.

Back to introducing you to my incredible dad...
One of the things I loved the most about my daddy, was that he could be incredibly silly with us, even after a long day. My dad taught middle schoolers...and to this day, I don't know how he even did that! BUT, you would have been shocked to see the things my dad did with us after spending all day putting up with preteens! Spending time with us was SO important to him. One of our favorite things to do was play hide-and-go-seek in a pitch black house. I remember, even as a little girl, pressing up close to him in a closet while we hid from the offensive "IT." We played kickball, catch, board games, went on walks...He was never "too tired" to play with us. Oh, how silly he could be with us!!! I learned from a young age that I could be completely comfortable in my own skin around him...because he was completely comfortable with who he was, flaws and all! He would make fun of himself relentlessly, all to give us a good laugh! My family and I have so many inside jokes about my dad...they are so ridiculous, in fact, that you would probably just roll your eyes if I tried to explain them to you! Parents, never underestimate the power of spending time uninterrupted with your kids. The time my dad spent with us, just getting down and dirty and PLAYING...well, it has forever impacted me.
Here are a couple of pictures of my dad being silly, just for his kids = )


One of the things I loved most about my dad was how dedicated he was to the work God gave him. As I shared with you, my dad was a middle school teacher. He was not a CEO, pastor, doctor, missionary, or lawyer. He was a teacher. But to him, his job was a sacred calling, no doubt a mission field. Every day he went to school with the goal of sharing Christ with those he came into contact with, whether they be teachers, students, or even the janitors that cleaned his classroom. He took an interest in everyone. He wrote a birthday letter to nearly every single teacher he had ever worked with...every year. He called each of his current students on their birthdays. He bought gifts for all of his coworkers every year. And he shared his testimony every chance he got...and even sometimes when he wasn't given a chance! Many of his coworkers did not treat him kindly, even sometimes ignored him. It didn't matter. He greeted them by name, with a huge smile, eager to brighten up the day of anyone he brushed shoulders with! His students LOVED HIM, oh did they love him.

This picture was taken after my dad had taken some time off work following his diagnosis. The newspaper ran an article on him and this was the picture that was printed with it. Boy, did the students miss him!!!

It seemed like everywhere we went in town, someone would stop him and say, "Hey, Mr. H! I had you as a teacher X number of years ago!" And my dad always remembered them. If he didn't remember their names, he remembered some little detail about their lives.

My dad's job was not always easy. I know he had hard days. He would say to me, "ASH, sometimes you just have to show up and let God do the rest!" I still live by that principle today.

My Dad's Legacy, Part 1

Two years ago this Sunday, my dad breathed his last breath on this earth. I realize some of you may tire of hearing me talk about my dad. Really, these posts are more for me than anyone. I have found that there is no better way for me to heal than to write about him and reflect over his life and the impact he had on me.

My dad was always quick to praise those he loved. Have you heard the advice, "For every correction you give a child, praise him 10 times"? My daddy lived that out. I hardly remember him ever speaking a harsh word to me. He told me a thousand times that he was proud of me. His last words to me, other than "I love you," were "ASH, you've been a good daughter." I don't know about the truth behind that, but I do know that he was one incredible dad to me! One of the things he always expressed to me was that he loved my writing. Well, in the year of my dad's illness, I learned something new about him...he was a great writer too! Just 11 days before his heaven-going, my dad wrote these words on his Caringbridge site:

"It is hard not to marvel at the Apostle Paul and his response to hardships. His physical afflictions would be enough to make most of us buckle. Add in the desertions from trusted brothers and sisters in Christ and it would appear to be overwhelming. He never appeared to waver. 1 Thessalonians 3:7 sums up this wonderful perspective he operated from. 'Therefore, brothers, in all our distress and persecution we were encouraged about you because of your faith.' Instead of being drug down by his own trials and almost constant opposition of some kind, he was able to focus on the growing faith of others and that not only diminished his setbacks, but created a great amount of rejoicing for him. Lord Jesus, for those of us living 2,000 years after the Apostle Paul, but still subject to no fewer difficulties, would you give us that perspective that brings joy and contentedness in the thick of our own distresses and persecutions, wherever they may be coming from. Thank you!"

It is amazing to me to read those words, knowing that his prayer even days before his death was for perseverance in Christ. My dad loved Jesus, so much so that he died in peace and at rest with his Savior forever.

Over the next few days, I'm going to share with you some of the things I loved the most about my dad:
1. One of the things I loved most about my dad was that he was devoted to me. I was totally a daddy's girl. The year he suffered from cancer, I quit school and moved back home. Some of my favorite memories from that year are of dates with my dad. I'll never forget the very last date we shared. He was in so much pain, but he did his best to hide it. He wanted so much to be strong for me. We went to an old cemetery and parked there in the parking lot, waiting probably half an hour for him to gain his strength so that we could go for a long bike ride. While we sat there, I just talked...and he listened. As he always did. I talked about my future...knowing it would be without him, and wanting so desperately to get his perspective on it. To this day, I'll never forget some of the wise words he shared with me. He was in pain, but he listened.

My dad used to tell me that, when I was little and would get hurt, he would scoop me up over his shoulder. I would be so upset that I would start pounding on his back, just trying to physically express my pain in some way. He would just let me pound on him. He may have been in pain, but he loved me so well.

Two weeks before my dad died, he put on a suit coat that hung on his frail frame and took my younger sister and I to our church, where he walked us down the aisle so we could have pictures with him to display on our future wedding days. He was hurting, he was dying, but he was still more concerned about my welfare and future than he was about himself.





My daddy was so incredibly devoted to my family and I.

Today, I miss him. I've learned since he went to be with Jesus that I will always miss him...and that's okay. The missing and hurting will only make the Heavenly reunion sweeter.

Guatemala: my dad's legacy

We were rumbling down a mountain, heading toward our last night in Guatemala. The bus held many tired but content people, and I couldn't miss the Holy Spirit's quiet voice ministering to my heart as the song "Great is Thy Faithfulness" played from the speaker. As the song faded into another, I was slightly jolted from my meditation of thanksgiving. These words poured over every part of me, coupled with tingles and goose bumps:

"In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise, give me Jesus..."

My mind raced back nearly two years, to a time when I stood next to my brother in a church, singing those very words. The refrain of my dad's life and legacy:

"Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus..."

That day in Guatemala, on the bus, I was overwhelmed by God's presence as I remembered.
Two years ago next Sunday, my daddy went to be with Jesus. As I watched the hills roll on by the window, big tears began to pour down my face because I realized something again: In all the pain I experienced throughout my dad's illness and death, in all the pain of missing him and longing to be with him again, GOD has been and IS faithful.

"When I am alone
When I am alone
When I am alone, give me Jesus"

There have been many moments since my dad left this earth that I have felt alone. I have felt the acute ache where he once resided. As I looked out that bus window, though, God gave me a glimpse of how far He has taken me since that awful day two summers ago. I realized that I never would have been sitting on that bus seat, had my daddy lived. Perhaps even more jarring a thought, I may have never known Jesus, had my daddy not made the life choices and taken the journey he did.

"Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus"

My daddy lived to know Jesus, but he died to see Jesus face to face. He was the closest glimpse I have ever had to knowing the Father. He instilled in me a love for people, a love for the lost...a love that took me to Guatemala. I wept on the bus, wishing that I could go home and sit in his lap, tell him all of my stories. It was all worth it, though. The pain of losing him, the pain of missing him, it led me to a beautiful country full of broken people. And I couldn't help but see him in my mind's eye, smiling because I was doing what he would have loved me to do, what he, on his death bed, pleaded me to do...I was loving Jesus.

My dad taught me that God can bring beauty out of pain. I think about the girl in the wheelchair, the pain she suffers every day. If I could tell her and her mama one thing, it would be that God redeems pain. He has redeemed my pain...and made beautiful things out of the dust that was once there. And He will redeem her pain too.

"When I come to die
When I come to die
When I come to die, give me Jesus

Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
Just give me Jesus."***

Those words sum up my dad's life-and-death wish. He may not have lived an extravagant life, but when he came to die, he most certainly received the ultimate fulfillment of his deepest longing. As the music on the bus came to an end, the music in my heart only began. "You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust..."


***lyrics to the song "Give Me Jesus"***

Guatemala: the girl in the wheelchair, part 2

I left you with a stricken mother, weeping tears of sorrow over the broken physical state of her daughter. I have to share the rest of the story with you, though, because I have come to know our God as Jehovah-Rapha, the God who heals. I wish I could tell you that precious M* got up out of her wheelchair that day and walked. There have been times in my life when I have wished that God healed in the way that I wanted him to heal. Certainly when my dad was gasping for breath as he moved from this world into eternity, I would have given anything to see him sit up, smile, and say that he was hanging around for a few more years. But God chose to heal his body for eternity. That day in Guatemala, God chose to heal M*'s mama eternally as well...not in body, but in spirit.

As we prayed over M*, begging God to heal her seizures and her permanently dislocated hip, one of our team members quietly asked M*'s mom if she knew Jesus. She whispered that she had not accepted Him as her Savior. Would she like to? Her tears rolled plenty as she talked to God, asking Him to save her and heal her heart. And heal her He did.


M* is in the gray shirt on the left; her mama is to the right of her.

I will never understand God's ways, for they are far above my own. Had I had my own way that day, M* would have gotten a few pills from us and been released from her physical misery. She and her mama also would have continued on their way, untouched by the eternal power of God's love and salvation. Praise Jesus that His ways are not the same as my own. Did God give her the seizures that torment her every day? Did God prevent her from receiving medical care after she dislocated her hip? I don't believe so. I do believe that God used M*'s physical brokenness to lead her and her equally spiritually broken mama to our clinic that day, where He gave us the great privilege of ministering to them His healing love. God used their pain and hurt to bring them to the Living Water...to a healing that will not fade with the brokenness of this creation, but that will carry them into an eternity of forever healing.

God may still heal M*'s ailments on this earth. He is certainly capable, and I pray that He does. But I rejoice in knowing that He has healed her and her mother for eternity! People may look at M* and say that she is no better off than before she came to us that day. If only they knew the implications of the spiritual restoration she and her mama experienced that day...maybe they would not diminish eternal healing in the face of temporary physical brokenness.

We saw M*'s mama one more time, the very next day. She had a grin on her face, from ear to ear, and an unmistakable joy in her heart. Praise God, Jehovah-Rapha...the God who HEALS.

Guatemala: The girl in the wheelchair, Part 1

It was new, all new. I just sat there, seeking to comprehend everything that was going on around me and trying to learn my new role as nurse-caregiver-Spanish speaker (AHEM). People shuffled in and out faster than I could put names to faces. I nearly missed her. But there was something about her face, an anguish that could not be mistaken for anything else. With her were four young children, including a girl, perhaps 8 or 9 years old, occupying a wheelchair.

As this young mom poured out the story of her broken heart, tears formed trails down the dust cloaking her face. With the help of our incredibly compassionate interpreter, she shared the story of her daughter, the girl in the wheelchair. Born with a congenital seizure disorder, M* never goes more than a day or two without facing a debilitating seizure. Years ago, M* dislocated one of her hips, an injury that was never corrected. Without surgery, M* will be confined to a wheelchair permanently.

As M*'s mama sobbed over her daughter's broken state, the love she had for her daughter could not have been more clearly conveyed. She desperately wanted us to fix her child, her baby. There was nothing we could do to fix M*. As our team doctor gently conveyed, again through our interpreter, that he could not take M*'s seizures away or give her the surgery she needed so that she could walk again, my own eyes began to fill with tears.

I could tell M*'s mama would do anything in her power to take away the suffering faced by her daughter every single day. As I wept with everyone else in the room, I was reminded of another Parent, a loving Father who surely cried tears of anguish as He watched His only Son suffer and die the death of a criminal. I cannot begin to imagine the distress this Father felt as He watched His only Son beaten, whipped, and tortured beyond recognition, then hung on a cross and mocked with contempt. Surely He knew this mother's grief. Surely He loved her more than she could comprehend, so much so that He chose to refrain from rescuing His beloved Son from the pain of torture. The tears of a mother, unable to "fix" the hurts of her child, surely fell that day into the mighty hands of a Father who was not unfamiliar with the grief from which those tears poured.

Part 2 to come...

Guatemala Video

I wanted to share some pictures with those of you who have been following my journey to Guatemala and back. I hope it gives you a small glimpse into my time there! Please join me in praying for the men and women and children I encountered while there...many of whom you will meet in this video. If the font is too small to read, enter full screen mode by pushing the button in the bottom right hand corner of the video. Enjoy!

Guatemala: The widow's mite

When do we learn to hoard our vast-beyond-measure stuff? When does the chubby baby sharing a saliva-slimed cracker with anyone and everyone turn into the intemperate toddler who must have everything? Is there salvation for our greedy hearts?

^"1 As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. ² He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. ³ “Truly I tell you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. ⁴ All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on" (from Luke 21).

She came and sat down before me, weary from the load she literally and figuratively carried. She smiled shyly, and I was immediately captured by her joyful smile and the radiant beauty of the daughter she held in her lap. Through a translator, we quickly said our hellos and moved onto the more serious matter, that of the medical needs she and her daughter shared. With the resources brought over by our team from the States, I did my best to help her. I gave her a toothbrush and vitamins, some medicine for their ailments. A mite from our millions.

She returned with a mite from her poverty, proving her richness in spirit. As she was standing to leave, repeating over and over, "Gracias, gracias, muchas gracias," she slipped the ruby red headband off of her head and handed it to me. A gift from the richness of her heart.


The red headband is not the most expensive gift I have ever received, nor the most extravagant. It stole my breath just the same, as did what seemed like hundreds of other love offerings I received over the course of my time in Guatemala.

America may be one of the richest countries in the world as far as material wealth goes, but while I was in Guatemala, I watched more than one widow offer her only mite to Jesus. In some ways, they have more than we could ever hope to have.

To conclude our week of clinics, we were blessed by an incredible body of believers who worked alongside us in their own church building. They held a service in celebration of God's work, giving each member of our 31-member team a beautiful gift...a mite from their poverty, from the richness of their hearts.

What have you done with your wealth?

Guatemala: I didn't know, but He knew

"Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard" (Isaiah 58:8)

Where do I begin? Last fall, God led me to apply for a medical mission trip to Guatemala with my church. I did not know what lay ahead...but He did. I did not know that this beautiful, mountainous country would grab a hold of my heart and steal my breath. I did not know that my mind and hands would be captivated by the work of serving the medical needs of some of the most poverty-stricken people on this earth. I did not know that I would work side by side with new friends who love Jesus passionately. I did not know...but He did.

Many of you have been following my journey to Guatemala, supporting me in prayer and with financial gifts. I cannot thank you enough. God is using you to touch lives thousands of miles away...and I pray that He continues to reap what has been sown.

Over the next several weeks, I will share stories of God's work in Guatemala...and needs that I saw and experienced there, for which you can continue to pray. We saw an estimated 2,000 patients while there, and nearly 100 people accepted Christ. The people I met and touched and hugged are not numbers, though. They are children of the living God...and I can't wait to introduce you to some of them.

To Him be the glory!