Her Name is Cindy

I am sure many readers noticed the appearance of a friend with whom I attended movies, hiked, prayed every night, etc. Yep, we met early this year and quickly set out on the road to a deep friendship.

Since then we have watched the Super Bowl together, met one another's family and friends, attended Phillies games, walked miles, exchanged thousands of words via email and text and lingered on nightly phone calls to talk and joke and pray together.(Praise God she is also a Verizon Wireless subscriber, especially since she lives one hour and twenty-two minutes from Glenside.)
She is also the bravest woman on the planet, as evidenced both by her life pre-Dan and her willingness to walk through this season with me.
She found the story of my 33 year friendship intriguing. I was/am taken by her determination, quick wit, tangible faith and warm encouragement. We have learned to compromise: I gave up the Eagles for her beloved Steelers. She sacrificed the Pirates to follow the Phillies. We both won by pledging allegiance to champions.

So, we have undertaken an intentional journey, walking carefully, prayerfully and under much scrutiny. My kids, my pastor, every member of the WHM office, and two brother elders have kept their eyes on this unfolding odyssey, praying, questioning, cautioning and encouraging. We just concluded a season at a Christian counseling center that successfully explored many of the issues our friendship faces. All good stuff under the circumstances.

And now we ask you to join us in praying that HE will show us where this road is to take us and when. We have each danced once before, and have known the sorrow of a tie prematurely severed; she through betrayed relationship, I through death.


Nancy brought me to this point. She taught me so much about love. But this road will be traveled with a new companion. For now, we are calling the adventure "Learning a Second Dance." It seems fitting to describe this story on a different site. I still may some share memories on this site, but life beyond the valley with this new friend will be recorded elsewhere. Please join the adventure on http://www.learningaseconddance.blogspot.com/

Finding a New Best Friend

Let me say it once again: August 30 brought the death of both my wife and my best friend all rolled in to one wonderful gal. The woman I romanced was also the buddy who followed me to baseball games and battle grounds around the world, with mission trips, children and museums in between. I lost my relational reference compass: my north and my south. Descent into the valley of grief was doubly deep and dark. How could I climb out?


I began to explore the option that many men who have had long and satisfying relationships take....and take fairly soon. So, venturing out, awkwardly, tentatively, with accountability, I began to see if there was another best friend out there. Of course, I had to wonder, was anybody brave enough to consider such a role?

Rebuilding Relationships

How could I walk out of the valley of grief? Where was the path? Suggestions came. Why not travel? How about remodeling the house? What about working more? Working lots more? How about writing a book? Moving into a group living situation? Learning to make beer?

Well, those ideas might work for some. But I am "relationally wired" according to one observer. The death of my closest relationship could only take me down one path. I needed to explore avenues for new relationships. So, the trek began.

Planting for Another Season of Growth

I couldn't think my way out of the valley of grief. I couldn't read my way out of the valley of grief. I couldn't write my way out of the valley of grief. I couldn't walk out of the valley. Nor could I escape its darkness by living in the past, or dwelling on death.

No, the shadows cast by the death of my best friend could only be rolled back by returning to meaningful life. I remembered my dad planting the winter wheat in October to reap a harvest next June. And so, I began to explore the prospects of a new life in my autumn years. I began to sow in sorrow hoping to one day sing a reaping melody. It was hard, there were going to be missteps, but the new journey had to begin.

Micah Baby

Our youngest grandson is usually referred to as "Micah Baby". He is a special guy. Nancy spent the summer picking out his name. It felt like Nancy waited to "pass her baton" to him before heading home August 30.

The hope of his life will often co mingle with the tears we all shed the day they met. And yet. And yet. HE will not let us linger in sorrow forever. After all Micah has a lifetime to live.

Today he was baptised. The service concluded with the song, "Blessed Be the Name," a song we sang at Nancy's funeral. Walking with my grand kids takes me on a road beyond grief. That road includes memories of HIS faithful care in the past, even as we press on toward the higher calling.

Join me in praying that Micah always walks with the One his Amma loved so well.

Graduation Time

Helping a friend prepare to host her daughter's high school graduation party triggered lots of memories. It took me back to leaving Rossville High in 1971. What anticipation, what hope, what fear. The world was about to open up. Where was the journey headed? Who would I walk with? That night I had no idea.

A few weeks ago I graduated from the valley of grief. A new journey has begun. Many new possibilities exist. Many new roads await exploration. Traveling companions are in place. Still, it is thrilling,exhilarating frightening and fun to take these steps. My ultimate comfort is that Jesus still walks with me. The One who is before all things, and in whom all things hold together sets the pace. And He remains the same: yesterday, today and forever. Let's set sail!

waiting in the wings

In less than an hour, we will dispatch seven young people off to their WHM internships, having spent the day preparing them for this adventure. Who knows where they are headed?? I can't say for sure, but I do know that, thirty two years in to this radical journey, the road will be glorious.

So, today I pass the baton to them. Still, I am mindful there are more races to run!