I still intend to post here, especially to post thoughts that are more private and also relate to the Christian spirituality of my experience in Nottingham.
However, for current news and updates, visit my Chicago Sun-Times blog at:
http://blogs.suntimes.com/fosnight/
I've already been getting all sorts of comments and emails from readers around the world. Exciting!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Fun photos and an article that makes me ANGRY!!!
OK, here are some photos of the last few weeks. First we've got a bunch of us disciples squished together on a bean bag chair before we watched "The Life of Brian" in our module on Jesus. It was interesting to me that a lot of young Brits don't enjoy Monty Python. I loved seeing that film again, but some of my friends just couldn't see the point.
Then there's a photo of me winding up to kick what I thought was a big, pink ball on the Hayling Island beach. As I kicked it, I realized that it was actually a buoy, and then I saw the rope attached to it. Hayling Island is just off the South Coast of England, across from the city of Portsmouth, and on our free afternoon at the National Leaders Conference, several of us girls went for a long walk around the island. That's Rachel, Liz, Ruth, Jida, Jo and me in the next photo. Kristen was with us earlier but had to go back to the hotel to set up for an event, Jen was with her boyfriend Tim H. and Laura was with her boyfriend Tim B. It was fun to get so many of the girls together for a walk, though! The final photo was taken from up high in Spinnaker Tower, a huge structure in Portsmouth that offers gorgeous views of the sea, coastal towns, naval ships and the Isle of Wight. I'm in that photo with my friends Sarah and Andy.
The other item I wanted to post was a link to this excellent article in the Washington Post. That is, the article is excellent, but the people it profiles make me FURIOUS! Especially the woman who puts on a surgical mask whenever a Mexican immigrant passes by so that she won't catch a disease. She says she's not racist, but I don't see how she can possibly defend that claim.
I'm very glad that McCain is doing well. I think he and Kennedy came up with a very sensible plan for immigration and it was a shame that it didn't pass Congress. I loved what Columbus Vineyard pastor Rich Nathan said at the leaders/pastors conference last week. He said, "How do you feel about your country (the U.S. or UK) changing because of immigration? Does it scare you? Do you want everyone to go back where they came from? Well, the Bible says that God loves the aliens and the poor. You might want to consider joining the winning side." I completely agree that we need to control immigration and somehow put a stop to all of the illegal crossings and attendant problems they bring, but I also think that we, as Americans, have to get used to the idea that the face of our country is changing. By 2050, America will be a nation made up of a majority of non-whites. Yes, we Caucasians have had a good run in America, but we have to accept that the world is not predominantly white and neither is the "assembly of the righteous" that will bow down before God in heaven (Psalm 1, Revelation). I admit that this idea challenges me and sometimes I want my country to stay the same and look the same and have the same traditions it's had for 250 years. But the reality is that it's not going to happen. I feel that our job as Christians is to make our cities and lands a welcoming place where the peace and justice of God's kingdom will reign, and that means welcoming in the foreigners who *will* come and finding the best way possible to integrate them into our ever-changing societies.
There, my rant for the day is done. Now to that banana bread!
Read the Feb. 10 Chicago Sun-Times !!!
Hey everyone,
Make sure you pick up a copy of the Feb. 10 Chicago Sun-Times (if you live in Chicago). You can find it at Jewel, Dominick's, the gas station and other newstand-type places, and you'll even be able to get it on Saturday.
The main travel story (in the travel section) is by me, about me! It might even have a photo of me, though I won't know about that until I see it. I wrote about the experience of "cashing in" and moving to another country.
Sunday is also the day my Sun-Times travel blog "Across the Pond" goes live. I won't provide the url until then, but then I'll put it up on here so you can visit me at the Sun-Times page. Be sure to make comments, too, to get people interested in it.
In other news, I've had a few quiet days of writing and relaxing, something I desperately needed after 11 straight days of serving at church and at the National Leaders Conference (so exciting!). On Monday night I did go back to church once more to help with our next round of More, a course that Ade (one of our pastors, the guy who leads the discipleship year, and husband of my friend Emma) pioneered to help newbies learn more about the Christian life. Many of our 30 or so attenders just finished the Alpha course. I'm a table leader and help facilitate discussion, and I also will be presenting two of the evening's programs: one next week on Daily/Devotional Prayer; and one in three weeks on the Holy Spirit. I did this last fall and it was really fun and went extremely well, so I'm looking forward to the chance to present again. I love telling stories and using PowerPoint and getting folks really excited about the stuff that I'm excited about. I then send them home with the little booklet on daily prayer ("Meeting with God", linked to this blog) that I wrote for the Evanston Vineyard. I wish I could update the booklet because I've learned so much more in the 2.5 years since I wrote it, but at least it's a starting point to give people some ideas and inspiration for embarking upon the amazing, fantastic, mysterious journey of intimacy with Christ.
Yesterday I met a friend for coffee, did some required reading, memorized a psalm for my spiritual disciplines course, and then met up with my friend Alex for my first guitar lesson. Alex is a very good guitar player, but I wasn't sure what to expect in the way of teaching. Let me just say that I was blown away--Alex prepared very thorough introductory material, lent me a guitar and gave me an amazing lesson. We had to quit when my poor fingers were about to bleed. (Come on, calluses!) I left knowing how to alternate pick a chromatic scale, having learned three chords, a strumming pattern, and the chorus of a Sheryl Crow song. I mean, it's not like it sounds like a Sheryl Crow song yet, but I'll get there. And Alex gave me very specific homework before we meet up again next week. He is doing all of this out of the kindness of his heart, and I am so grateful.
Alex is one of my fellow disciples, so we share the Discipleship Year bond. On the last night of the conference down on England's South Coast, we disciples worked hard to help break down the conference venue and stack chairs at about 11 p.m. Then, in thanks, church bought us each a drink from the bar (I love my church!) and we all gathered around a table to chat. Granted, most of us on Discipleship Year had been meeting for drinks, cards and conversation each night of the conference, but this night we were ALL there, all 15 of us. We took a group photo and played the party game Empire (very fun) and it felt so good to have all of us together. It's amazing how if one person is missing, something just doesn't feel right. Being part of this little community is such a wonderful experience and I'm really trying to savor it, especially since the year is half-over. We're all so silly when we're together. After we finished stacking chairs, loading up the van and returning tables to the conference venue, the conference folks taped off the entrance to the venue and asked us to exit the area. The tape was stretched at about my chest level, and so we decided to have an impromptu limbo contest. I, of course, got under it just fine, but most of the others fell (especially the ones who are taller than 6 ft). We all stood around cheering for one another as we limboed our way under the tape line.
Yesterday was Shrove Tuesday, or Pancake Day, or Fat Tuesday. Since England is a technically Christian country, it's been the custom here for centuries to eat pancakes (really more like crepes) on Shrove Tuesday, so as to use up rich ingredients like sugar, butter and eggs before Lent. So my friend Ruth invited me round for tea (dinner) and we made pancakes. I usually like them with sugar, butter and lemon juice, but Ruthie had some golden syrup that was absolutely delicious on them. I'll get more pancakes tonight when my small group meets at my place for a pancake social. Yes, I know it's the first day of Lent, but none of us seem to care that much. I've only found three people who are giving anything up (sweets and telly). I'm not giving anything up. As Ruthie's housemate Josie said last night, "Anything I would give up I like too much to give up." And we all sort of agreed with her. I know that's the point of Lent, but none of us feel very convicted about it and our church doesn't put any emphasis on the season. In fact, I've never gone to a church that has. Maybe some day in the future I'll decide to sacrifice for Lent. I'm sure it'll be very meaningful, it's just not really on my radar at the moment.
Today I've got two articles to write and my Sun-Times blog to prepare. I also need to polish the silver, as I haven't done anything around the house for the marvelous Grange family in ages. Then there are a few really, really, really ripe bananas I thought I'd make into banana bread (i'm sure they don't have that in England) and I ought to go to the shop and buy some more tea since I used the last tea bag today. Finally, I may cycle up to the beautiful flat of my friends Andy & Lui so I can do some creative writing in a peaceful place. Oh, and I have a long meditation exercise for my spiritual disciplines class. Tomorrow the church serving cycle starts again. I love this life!
Make sure you pick up a copy of the Feb. 10 Chicago Sun-Times (if you live in Chicago). You can find it at Jewel, Dominick's, the gas station and other newstand-type places, and you'll even be able to get it on Saturday.
The main travel story (in the travel section) is by me, about me! It might even have a photo of me, though I won't know about that until I see it. I wrote about the experience of "cashing in" and moving to another country.
Sunday is also the day my Sun-Times travel blog "Across the Pond" goes live. I won't provide the url until then, but then I'll put it up on here so you can visit me at the Sun-Times page. Be sure to make comments, too, to get people interested in it.
In other news, I've had a few quiet days of writing and relaxing, something I desperately needed after 11 straight days of serving at church and at the National Leaders Conference (so exciting!). On Monday night I did go back to church once more to help with our next round of More, a course that Ade (one of our pastors, the guy who leads the discipleship year, and husband of my friend Emma) pioneered to help newbies learn more about the Christian life. Many of our 30 or so attenders just finished the Alpha course. I'm a table leader and help facilitate discussion, and I also will be presenting two of the evening's programs: one next week on Daily/Devotional Prayer; and one in three weeks on the Holy Spirit. I did this last fall and it was really fun and went extremely well, so I'm looking forward to the chance to present again. I love telling stories and using PowerPoint and getting folks really excited about the stuff that I'm excited about. I then send them home with the little booklet on daily prayer ("Meeting with God", linked to this blog) that I wrote for the Evanston Vineyard. I wish I could update the booklet because I've learned so much more in the 2.5 years since I wrote it, but at least it's a starting point to give people some ideas and inspiration for embarking upon the amazing, fantastic, mysterious journey of intimacy with Christ.
Yesterday I met a friend for coffee, did some required reading, memorized a psalm for my spiritual disciplines course, and then met up with my friend Alex for my first guitar lesson. Alex is a very good guitar player, but I wasn't sure what to expect in the way of teaching. Let me just say that I was blown away--Alex prepared very thorough introductory material, lent me a guitar and gave me an amazing lesson. We had to quit when my poor fingers were about to bleed. (Come on, calluses!) I left knowing how to alternate pick a chromatic scale, having learned three chords, a strumming pattern, and the chorus of a Sheryl Crow song. I mean, it's not like it sounds like a Sheryl Crow song yet, but I'll get there. And Alex gave me very specific homework before we meet up again next week. He is doing all of this out of the kindness of his heart, and I am so grateful.
Alex is one of my fellow disciples, so we share the Discipleship Year bond. On the last night of the conference down on England's South Coast, we disciples worked hard to help break down the conference venue and stack chairs at about 11 p.m. Then, in thanks, church bought us each a drink from the bar (I love my church!) and we all gathered around a table to chat. Granted, most of us on Discipleship Year had been meeting for drinks, cards and conversation each night of the conference, but this night we were ALL there, all 15 of us. We took a group photo and played the party game Empire (very fun) and it felt so good to have all of us together. It's amazing how if one person is missing, something just doesn't feel right. Being part of this little community is such a wonderful experience and I'm really trying to savor it, especially since the year is half-over. We're all so silly when we're together. After we finished stacking chairs, loading up the van and returning tables to the conference venue, the conference folks taped off the entrance to the venue and asked us to exit the area. The tape was stretched at about my chest level, and so we decided to have an impromptu limbo contest. I, of course, got under it just fine, but most of the others fell (especially the ones who are taller than 6 ft). We all stood around cheering for one another as we limboed our way under the tape line.
Yesterday was Shrove Tuesday, or Pancake Day, or Fat Tuesday. Since England is a technically Christian country, it's been the custom here for centuries to eat pancakes (really more like crepes) on Shrove Tuesday, so as to use up rich ingredients like sugar, butter and eggs before Lent. So my friend Ruth invited me round for tea (dinner) and we made pancakes. I usually like them with sugar, butter and lemon juice, but Ruthie had some golden syrup that was absolutely delicious on them. I'll get more pancakes tonight when my small group meets at my place for a pancake social. Yes, I know it's the first day of Lent, but none of us seem to care that much. I've only found three people who are giving anything up (sweets and telly). I'm not giving anything up. As Ruthie's housemate Josie said last night, "Anything I would give up I like too much to give up." And we all sort of agreed with her. I know that's the point of Lent, but none of us feel very convicted about it and our church doesn't put any emphasis on the season. In fact, I've never gone to a church that has. Maybe some day in the future I'll decide to sacrifice for Lent. I'm sure it'll be very meaningful, it's just not really on my radar at the moment.
Today I've got two articles to write and my Sun-Times blog to prepare. I also need to polish the silver, as I haven't done anything around the house for the marvelous Grange family in ages. Then there are a few really, really, really ripe bananas I thought I'd make into banana bread (i'm sure they don't have that in England) and I ought to go to the shop and buy some more tea since I used the last tea bag today. Finally, I may cycle up to the beautiful flat of my friends Andy & Lui so I can do some creative writing in a peaceful place. Oh, and I have a long meditation exercise for my spiritual disciplines class. Tomorrow the church serving cycle starts again. I love this life!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Off to a conference
It's been a crazy week and I've got another ahead! Tomorrow morning I'm leaving at 6:30 a.m. for Haling Island, near Portsmouth. I am very excited to spend a week on the English coast, especially if the gorgeous, sunny, warm weather holds up (I doubt it). But Emma is from Portsmouth, and she tells me it's much warmer down there.
This week I:
1. Wrote 4 newspaper articles, including my BIG story for the Chicago Sun-Times Travel section. It should appear on Sunday, Feb. 10, and my public blog will launch on their site that day.
2. Helped a lot of people at the Arches, including several pregnant teenage girls. I was thinking a lot that day about what a difference birth control can make in a woman's life. I'm glad these girls are carrying their babies to term but ... anyway, I was told that English girls can get birth control from the school nurse or even a GP. Hasn't seemed to make much of a difference in these girls' lives. However, I was encouraged by one lovely young woman. She's just 18 and had been kicked out of the house by her mum, she doesn't really know how to cook and looks quite lost, but she clearly loves her two-month-old baby girl so much and has been given a new flat. Her brother and sister are helping her out, so maybe she'll be OK.
3. Got my visa extension application paperwork sent off! Please join me in praying I get approved for my final two months here and also that I get my passport back by Feb. 15, since I'm supposed to go to Norway on Feb. 17.
4. Did a lot of learning, growing and stretching in spiritual and emotional matters.
5. Taught kids and found out from some parents that that their kids talk about me (in a good way) at home.
6. Was given a gorgeous grey, wool cardigan by Anna; fun footless tights by Jules; and 6 STUNNING, beautiful, almost-new pairs of shoes, plus one pair of boots, by Carmen
5. Rode my bike to and from church A LOT!!!
(and now I need to go do it again, as I'm due at church to help with set up in 22 minutes. Ah, well, I guess my packing for tomorrow morning is going to have to wait until I get home at about 11 p.m. tonight. The joys of Discipleship Year continue).
This week I:
1. Wrote 4 newspaper articles, including my BIG story for the Chicago Sun-Times Travel section. It should appear on Sunday, Feb. 10, and my public blog will launch on their site that day.
2. Helped a lot of people at the Arches, including several pregnant teenage girls. I was thinking a lot that day about what a difference birth control can make in a woman's life. I'm glad these girls are carrying their babies to term but ... anyway, I was told that English girls can get birth control from the school nurse or even a GP. Hasn't seemed to make much of a difference in these girls' lives. However, I was encouraged by one lovely young woman. She's just 18 and had been kicked out of the house by her mum, she doesn't really know how to cook and looks quite lost, but she clearly loves her two-month-old baby girl so much and has been given a new flat. Her brother and sister are helping her out, so maybe she'll be OK.
3. Got my visa extension application paperwork sent off! Please join me in praying I get approved for my final two months here and also that I get my passport back by Feb. 15, since I'm supposed to go to Norway on Feb. 17.
4. Did a lot of learning, growing and stretching in spiritual and emotional matters.
5. Taught kids and found out from some parents that that their kids talk about me (in a good way) at home.
6. Was given a gorgeous grey, wool cardigan by Anna; fun footless tights by Jules; and 6 STUNNING, beautiful, almost-new pairs of shoes, plus one pair of boots, by Carmen
5. Rode my bike to and from church A LOT!!!
(and now I need to go do it again, as I'm due at church to help with set up in 22 minutes. Ah, well, I guess my packing for tomorrow morning is going to have to wait until I get home at about 11 p.m. tonight. The joys of Discipleship Year continue).
Monday, January 21, 2008
Welcome to my private blog
Hello! In just a few short weeks, I'll be launching a public blog from the Chicago Sun-Times Web site, to appear in conjunction with an article I'm doing for the Sunday travel section about my year in England. The editors and I agreed that my personal blog should therefore go private, since I will need to maintain a modicum of professional privacy in my new Sun-Times blog. (When the new blog goes live, I'll post the link on here).That means that you now must be added to my approved list before you can read this blog. I do know I have many blog visitors who are acquaintances, so if you know of someone who might like to get added to my list, simply ask them to send me an email at: stephaniefosnight@gmail.com I'd be happy to put them on it.
I've just posted a ton of fun photos from my Christmas holiday. I started out by flying to Phoenix for 8 days, which I spent happily with my family in Mesa, Tucson and Mexico. I then spent another week in Chicago for my dear friend Sus' wedding and to see other wonderful friends. I've posted several sets of photos below.
Here are a couple of pictures from my exciting day out this past Saturday. My sweet friend Emma and I drove to the National Peak District in Derbyshire (just about 90 minutes from Nottingham) to spend a day searching for natural beauty. We had a marvelous time, and as you can see from these photos, discovered some rather dramatic scenery. We picknicked and drank tea on the edge of the cliff, and even spent about an hour sitting by a (very swollen) river praying for one another. It was a chilly, misty, extremely muddy day, but as long as we kept moving we were fine. I still haven't managed to get all of the mud off my Doc Martens, but it was worth it!
Just in case you'd like to see even more photos from my recent Christmas fun, here are links to several public galleries on Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=76821&l=69efb&id=807395516
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=76290&l=c5806&id=807395516
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=83656&l=4e982&id=807395516
Mexico
On the day after Christmas (Boxing Day to the Brits), Mom, Dad and I; Peter, Melissa & Isaiah; and my cousin Tanya drove about four hours over the Mexican border to the beach town of Rocky Point on the Gulf of California (Tanya's parents and brother decided to visit with my grandparents in Arizona during those days). We stayed in a luxury condo overlooking the beach and had a wonderful time playing in the sand and tidepools, playing frisbee and tennis, playing tennis, and eating delicious meals. (Playing and eating seem to be themes of my family). Here we have Tanya and I feeding lettuce to the ceramic turtle who was perched on the dining room table of the condo; Isaiah's little fingers in the sand; a shot of me while I'm playing frisbee with Dad at low tide; and Isaiah riding very happily on his daddy's shoulders. It was a wonderful, restful and very fun few days just hanging out with my family. The day after we returned, Mom & Dad took some quiet time while I drove Uncle Eric, Aunt Tammy and Justin and Tanya down to Tucson to visit Peter's family once more. Pete & Melissa made us a delicious lunch of spare ribs, then we all headed out to the Sonoran Desert Museum. I really felt like I got to hang out with my aunt, uncle, cousins and brother and sister-in-law, and I also spent five days with Isaiah and really got attached to my little nephew. It was so hard to say goodbye to him!
Christmas with Isaiah!
The Fosnights had a veritable family reunion this year. Not only was I back from England and not only did Pete, Melissa and Isaiah came from Tucson, but my mom's brother and his family came all the way from Minnesota to spend Christmas with us and my grandparents. We ate a marvelous Christmas ham dinner at Grandma's house and the place was packed with the Fosnights, Grandma & Grandpa Bower, Eric, Tammy, Justin and Tanya Bower (and their dog Riley), and also longtime family friends Shanti, Sopor and Nini. We missed having my older brother Shane there, however.
Of course, Christmas this year was all about Isaiah Peter Fosnight, my nephew, Peter's son, Mom & Dad's grandson, etc.
Now eight months old, Isaiah is quite content to be the center of attention and happily charms us all. Here he is playing with his new duck that he got from Grandma Fosnight; enjoying a Christmas dinner of mashed fruit, and playing with Riley in the post-feast stupor. It was a wonderful day.
A few more wedding pix
Susanna's wedding
Here are a few photos from the Jan. 4 wedding of our beloved Sus (known to a select few ... mostly family members ... by her full name of Susanna). I felt beyond privileged to be a bridesmaid in Sus' wedding to the Rev. Jon March, currently a curate at Holy Trinity Brompton Anglican church in London. The wedding was a wonderful day for me and a reminder of God's faithfulness. Sus has been incredibly important and influential in my life. She's a fierce friend who's simultaneously protected me and spoken truth to me in times of need. She's a spiritual sister and glowing inspiration of a woman afire for God. And, most importantly she is (as they say in England) a complete nutter. When it came time to tell Sus stories at her bachelorette party, I just couldn't stop. I think I've laughed with Sus more than just about anyone else, and yet I've also learned so much from her. I've also been privileged enough to watch her first foster and now adopt the beautiful Kailey Alana, and, at her request when she brought Kailey home from the hospital two years ago, I started praying that God would send a daddy for Kailey and a husband for Sus. We never would have guessed then that God's choice was Sus' longtime friend Jon. Yay! It was a truly wonderful day.
The fourth photo on this page is of another special girl: Miss Lucia Juliana Scrimenti, age five months. When I left she was just a tiny baby, and it was a joy to get to spend so much time with Lucia and also her mommy and daddy, my fast friends Mark & Julie. I also had a wonderful time staying with Brad & Katie and connecting with oh-so-many amazing people back in Evanston. I wish I could put you all on here by name, but rest assured that I love you and miss you all and it was so very, very good to see you.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
The latest photos
It's definitely time for me to post again, but I must be honest and say I don't have the energy. I've been fighting an ear infection for awhile now and it's tim for me to go to sleep.
But I did get some new photos up on Facebook and they're great, so take a look here:
Discipleship Year, Southwell Minster, Libby's Wedding and More
But I did get some new photos up on Facebook and they're great, so take a look here:
Saturday, December 08, 2007
A Tribute to Mallory
Last Tuesday evening I was doing creative writing while meditating on Christ when I felt compelled to write the following letter to Chris and Lee Langill, Mallory's parents. I sent it off and told them no response was necessary. But Chris wrote write back to say that they'd been meaning to ask me if I'd write something to be read at Mallory's memorial service back home in Evanston, and whether they could read the letter. I was honored to be asked. Here is the letter that was read.
December 4, 2007
Dear Chris and Lee,
I am sitting in a friend’s second-story flat in Bramcote, Nottinghamshire, England, perched above a park filled with noisy ducks. I’m facing a wall of windows and watching the most beautiful sunset I’ve seen outside of Arizona. I’ve never seen a sunset like this before in Minnesota, Illinois, England or Washington, D.C. The sky is literally aflame with long orange clouds topped by pink, gauzy strips. Shades of deep purple give depth to the brilliant colors. And I am thinking of Mallory.
I didn’t know that Mallory liked the sunset colors until I read your journal today, but it makes perfect sense. I do know she loved pink and orange and purple, because she was always wearing them! When I think back on the last year of Kids Church and my nearly 52 Sundays spent with the same small group in that same room, I always see Mallory as a little bright ball of energy and smiles, even if she was coughing or fighting a fever.
Of course there are no words that will make you feel better or diminish the grief. In fact, I know from experience that, when we Christians are going through deep grief, people will say so many words. Most of them will be well-meant, but even then we will want to scream because we’ve heard the same thing so many times. We get sick of being “preached at” or “cheered up.” We get sick of giving the same dreary explanation and the same assurances of gratitude over and over again. But we do not get sick of knowing someone else cares, that someone else wants to help carry the burdens, if even for a short while.
I just wanted to let you know, then, that I care. I do not know either of you very well and I certainly did not know Mallory as well as many did, but I did know her. And I treasured her. I loved her calm, helpful presence in the midst of a chaotic class, and I also loved that she wasn’t always calm. Despite the fact that she was the “sick kid” (though the other kids never seemed to notice this), she was still human, not saintly. Sometimes she talked too much or didn’t listen, but on the rare occasion when this happened, she was so quick to respond to my gentle chiding. She was not a saint, but she was better than a saint, because she was real yet she loved Jesus and she loved life with her whole heart.
As I told you in an email last summer, Mallory spoke into my life in a dark time, when she shared the complex picture of the servant seeking a precious jewel at great cost, only to see the jewel turn grey and lifeless as he presented it to the King. She wanted to know what it meant, and when I told her to ask God, she did. “I think it means we’re supposed to keep trying, no matter what happens and what the outcome is,” she told me. “God says that what matters is what we do and how we do it, not what we end up with.”
That was a powerful message to me as I contemplated events in my own life, but now I see her picture in a whole new light. God has used this word to speak to me of Mallory’s own life and her own heart. I see Him being tremendously pleased with her, and all that she accomplished for his kingdom, although the ending is so horrendously wrong.
I think of Mallory now and I remember her chattering about her cats, about how Aaron always wanted to play in the hospital play room, about how excited she was to go home and sew a teddy bear with her mom. I remember her bowling me over with big hugs and giggling and giggling and giggling. I remember watching her come into the kids’ room and scanning the crowd for her friends, then her big eyes brightening and that huge smile splitting her face as she ran towards Marissa or Emily. I remember Mallory raising her hand every week to ask us to pray for her and for her loved ones, and I remember her clear, sweet, unbelievably-intelligent-voice reading scripture passages with complete ease.
I recall how last year at Advent the children wrote prophetic Messiah passages onto paper ornaments. It was an activity that was fine and dandy for the older kids, but I knew many of our first graders wouldn’t be able to fit an entire Bible verse onto a Christmas ornament. So I handed the Bible to Mallory and she wrote out the entire verse in careful, perfect, small script more legible than my own. I thanked God yet again for sending Mallory to my class.
I’m glad, right now, that I’m not teaching Sunday School at Evanston Vineyard this year, for I don’t think I could bear being there without having Mallory in the midst.
The sunset is darkening now and the colors are becoming more muted—all but the orange. The orange is flaming out brighter than ever, as if in defiance of the approaching night. The reason I came to my friend’s place this evening is so I could do some creative writing in a peaceful spot, so I was doing some writing about a little dialogue I was having with Jesus. I “saw” him sitting next to me on the sofa and we were chatting about many things, when I suddenly noticed the stunning sky.
“This is one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen, Jesus!” I exclaimed in my little mind’s eye conversation. I heard his response quite clearly.
“Yes,” he said. “Mallory had a say in it.”
I am so sorry for your loss. There is nothing else to say, but know that Mallory’s death touches so many of us, including me. As I write this, my eyes are filling with tears yet again.
It will be so wonderful to see her again. But I’m going to have to wait in a long line in heaven to get my turn, I think, because no doubt the Lord has already spread her fame far and wide around there, just as he’s done here.
With love,
Stephanie Fosnight
P.S. If you have not already seen it, I do recommend the book “A Sacred Sorrow: Reclaiming the Lost Language of Lament” by Michael Card. It’s at the church bookstore.
December 4, 2007
Dear Chris and Lee,
I am sitting in a friend’s second-story flat in Bramcote, Nottinghamshire, England, perched above a park filled with noisy ducks. I’m facing a wall of windows and watching the most beautiful sunset I’ve seen outside of Arizona. I’ve never seen a sunset like this before in Minnesota, Illinois, England or Washington, D.C. The sky is literally aflame with long orange clouds topped by pink, gauzy strips. Shades of deep purple give depth to the brilliant colors. And I am thinking of Mallory.
I didn’t know that Mallory liked the sunset colors until I read your journal today, but it makes perfect sense. I do know she loved pink and orange and purple, because she was always wearing them! When I think back on the last year of Kids Church and my nearly 52 Sundays spent with the same small group in that same room, I always see Mallory as a little bright ball of energy and smiles, even if she was coughing or fighting a fever.
Of course there are no words that will make you feel better or diminish the grief. In fact, I know from experience that, when we Christians are going through deep grief, people will say so many words. Most of them will be well-meant, but even then we will want to scream because we’ve heard the same thing so many times. We get sick of being “preached at” or “cheered up.” We get sick of giving the same dreary explanation and the same assurances of gratitude over and over again. But we do not get sick of knowing someone else cares, that someone else wants to help carry the burdens, if even for a short while.
I just wanted to let you know, then, that I care. I do not know either of you very well and I certainly did not know Mallory as well as many did, but I did know her. And I treasured her. I loved her calm, helpful presence in the midst of a chaotic class, and I also loved that she wasn’t always calm. Despite the fact that she was the “sick kid” (though the other kids never seemed to notice this), she was still human, not saintly. Sometimes she talked too much or didn’t listen, but on the rare occasion when this happened, she was so quick to respond to my gentle chiding. She was not a saint, but she was better than a saint, because she was real yet she loved Jesus and she loved life with her whole heart.
As I told you in an email last summer, Mallory spoke into my life in a dark time, when she shared the complex picture of the servant seeking a precious jewel at great cost, only to see the jewel turn grey and lifeless as he presented it to the King. She wanted to know what it meant, and when I told her to ask God, she did. “I think it means we’re supposed to keep trying, no matter what happens and what the outcome is,” she told me. “God says that what matters is what we do and how we do it, not what we end up with.”
That was a powerful message to me as I contemplated events in my own life, but now I see her picture in a whole new light. God has used this word to speak to me of Mallory’s own life and her own heart. I see Him being tremendously pleased with her, and all that she accomplished for his kingdom, although the ending is so horrendously wrong.
I think of Mallory now and I remember her chattering about her cats, about how Aaron always wanted to play in the hospital play room, about how excited she was to go home and sew a teddy bear with her mom. I remember her bowling me over with big hugs and giggling and giggling and giggling. I remember watching her come into the kids’ room and scanning the crowd for her friends, then her big eyes brightening and that huge smile splitting her face as she ran towards Marissa or Emily. I remember Mallory raising her hand every week to ask us to pray for her and for her loved ones, and I remember her clear, sweet, unbelievably-intelligent-voice reading scripture passages with complete ease.
I recall how last year at Advent the children wrote prophetic Messiah passages onto paper ornaments. It was an activity that was fine and dandy for the older kids, but I knew many of our first graders wouldn’t be able to fit an entire Bible verse onto a Christmas ornament. So I handed the Bible to Mallory and she wrote out the entire verse in careful, perfect, small script more legible than my own. I thanked God yet again for sending Mallory to my class.
I’m glad, right now, that I’m not teaching Sunday School at Evanston Vineyard this year, for I don’t think I could bear being there without having Mallory in the midst.
The sunset is darkening now and the colors are becoming more muted—all but the orange. The orange is flaming out brighter than ever, as if in defiance of the approaching night. The reason I came to my friend’s place this evening is so I could do some creative writing in a peaceful spot, so I was doing some writing about a little dialogue I was having with Jesus. I “saw” him sitting next to me on the sofa and we were chatting about many things, when I suddenly noticed the stunning sky.
“This is one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen, Jesus!” I exclaimed in my little mind’s eye conversation. I heard his response quite clearly.
“Yes,” he said. “Mallory had a say in it.”
I am so sorry for your loss. There is nothing else to say, but know that Mallory’s death touches so many of us, including me. As I write this, my eyes are filling with tears yet again.
It will be so wonderful to see her again. But I’m going to have to wait in a long line in heaven to get my turn, I think, because no doubt the Lord has already spread her fame far and wide around there, just as he’s done here.
With love,
Stephanie Fosnight
P.S. If you have not already seen it, I do recommend the book “A Sacred Sorrow: Reclaiming the Lost Language of Lament” by Michael Card. It’s at the church bookstore.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Mallory Blake Langill (2000-2007)
Mallory died on Sunday morning.
Who was Mallory? She was an amazing, 7-year-old girl who loved Jesus, her parents, her little brother, her friends, her cats and making stuff. Her favorite colors were orange, pink and purple, because they were the colors of the sunset. I had the immense privilege of being her Sunday School teacher for one year. This photo was taken on my last Sunday in Chicago, just a few months before Mallory began to deteriorate. She'd always been sick from cystic fibrosis, and was on the double lung transplant list, and about a month ago was moved to a children's hospital to await new lungs. She didn't make it.
Here is an email I sent out today to all who'd been praying for Mallory. I am determined that I will always remember this little girl, and as long as I am writing and telling stories, I will talk about Mallory.
If you haven't already heard, Mallory's body could no longer take the wait for new lungs. She finally had to stop fighting. As her parents reported in their blog announcement, God decided to not only give hernew lungs but a whole new body to enjoy in His presence, in heaven. She died at about 4 a.m. CST on Sunday morning. See the entry here:
http://www.cotaformalloryl.com/node/35
I found out this morning, as I did not get a chance to check email or messages yesterday. Of course I am very grieved, not for Mallory because, cheesy as it sounds, it's more than true to say she is in a far better place. But I am grieving for her parents Chris and Lee, for her little brother Aaron (who's 4) and for all of us in her extended network of family and friends. Including myself.
Mallory had such talents and gifts of intelligence and friendship, as well as an incredibly perceptive heart. I was so looking forward to seeing her live life with new lungs and seeing her grow up into a lovely girl and young woman. I will miss her and I will never forget her.
Her own dad said that Mallory probably impacted more people in her 7 years than her parents have in their 40-something years.
Thank you for all of the prayers, whether you know Mallory or not. Her parents say the prayers and support have really gotten them through this time, and they are also grateful that so many strangers (including those in England!) have been praying for them. I know they will appreciate continued prayers as they now grieve and continue to face financial challenges because of the medical bills. Please pray for them as they strive to celebrate Christmas with Aaron in the face of such painful loss.
Some of you had mentioned that you felt uncomfortable praying for lungs for Mallory, since someone else had to die in order for that tohappen. Our prayers had simply been that some other family, in theirgrief and loss, would make the choice to donate their loved ones' organs. In the end, it was Mallory's family who made the decision tod onate their own daughter's organs, and I know that Mallory's death will mean life for others we will never meet. Please consider organ donation yourself, if you haven't, and check to make sure you'vecomplied with your own state's organ donor laws. For example, the Illinois laws changed a few years ago, but it's easy to register online if you haven't done so.
I wish it hadn't turned out this way. I know it didn't have to. But despite the sometimes overwhelming presence of death and evil in thisfallen world, I still know God is good and He is faithful. And rightnow Mallory knows that more than any of the rest of us.
Thank you,
Stephanie
If you'd like to learn more about lung transplants and cystic fibrosis, as well as hear the story of a very cool guy named Steve and the young woman named Kari who gave him new life, go here for an article I wrote last year:
http://www.pioneerlocal.com/evanston/lifestyles/health_family/135554,on-kari-111606-s1.article
As Steve told me in his condolence email, he constantly tells Kari's story for all of the Mallorys in the world. And now I want to tell Mallory's story for all of the others like her.
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