A year of living.

[mike]

This has been my favorite thread on MN since it started. Thanks, Wayne, this is great.

Same here.

[Wayne in Maine]

The “coincidences” continue. Dan Ziegler was supposed to speak at a church in Maine in January, but it was postponed until today. So we had the joy of entertaining Dan and Wendy as well as Pheobe and Rebecca yesterday. This rare visit came at such a special time that only the most hardened skeptic would not see God's hand in it.

The lives of the Zeiglers and Chesleys have had an odd intertwining. Aside from the deep spiritual and intellectual resonance Dan and I have with each other (some people have mistaken me for Dan as we often speak with the same voice) we have had shared experiences at the Bruderhof Communities, the same love of camping and hiking, the same taste in obscure folk music (are there any other Bill Stains fans out there?). We both lived at the Deerspring Bruderhof in Connecticut (though not at the same time) and can talk about the old first generation Bruderhofers we both knew from whom we learned of the true spirit of Christ at the foundation of those communities.

Dan loves Maine, though he never succeeded in finding a way to make a home here (much to my vexation!) His parents lived in Rockland (one of our favorite "working waterfront" Maine towns) which would bring the Zeigler clan for occasional visits to our home. I still have deep ruts in my barn yard from a wrong turn his daughter took parking for a mud-season visit once! Dan baptized out daughter Franzi in the salt water bay next door to us and officiated the marriage between Franzi and Dickon in the rustic chapel we set up in the same park. We are "one body" in the mystical way God created koinonia among pilgrims and sojourners of the ancient Anabaptists of the Tyrol, scattered and isolated physically, but united in heart and mind. Out families belong together in the Christian Community we both know should exist, that would embody the winsome joy of life in God's Kingdom among us. That winsome joy, that sense of Community, filled our home yesterday - a touch of Kingdom life, another gift from God, another unplanned grace.

[MaxPC]

Wayne, your writings are a homiletic homage to the grace of the Holy Spirit and the mercies of God. I do believe this is the very best thread I have seen, either on MN or MD.

Thank you for sharing this journey with us.

[Wayne in Maine]

A year ago, when this Covid Pandemic had stopped Betty from attending the long anticipated birth of our grandson, I could not have possibly imagined that I would be sitting in my daughter's living room a year later bouncing "little dude" to the rhythm of the sea shanties playing in the background:

"Wrap me up in me oilskin and Jumper
No more on the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
And I'll see you someday on Fiddlers Green"

We left Maine for Pennsylvania at 6:00 AM on Monday sharing the drive which was pretty easy . With so many people working from home and commerce sluggish, the nightmare stretch of route 495/290 from Lowell to Worcester was very light for rush hour. Rush hour is odd on that stretch (I used to most drive it daily) as it still moves at 70+ miles per hour, just getting much thicker - like bumper-to-bumper which is heart stopping at those speeds.

Our son in law, Dickon, was on a business trip to Texas so when Betty and I arrived it was just Franzi and Elanor and Dirk greeting us. Elanor was shy - she didn't seem to recognize Yaya and Papa in the flesh since we've been visiting via video on out phones since last summer. There was a lot of joy in the "Homely Home" that evening as we got to know our grandchildren, reading and singing and enjoying the antics of our impish 2-1/2 year old and her 1 year old brother.

The next day we met Cheryl, the owner of the house next door which we are buying. It felt like we were old friends, like cousins. We got the grand tour of the place which turned out to be better even than we though - spacious, clean and looking practically new. The house has a huge kitchen that will accommodate the big table we inherited from Betty's parents - the table she used to do her homework on. Even with a table that seats 12 the kitchen still has enough room for a hutch, shelving, a "coffee station", our oversized spice rack... The master bedroom is in the front and you can hear the quiet, calming singing of Muncy Creek from the open window.

The living room has a gas fireplace at one end and is spacious and bright - a great place to entertain guests. We will have a guest bed room and a library/study as well. We look forward to visitors - we seem to have more friends (including Mennonetters!) in Pennsylvania than we do in Maine.

After meeting with Cheryl, the building inspector and the appraiser, Dickon and I walked the property line. The property has 4 acres, most of which is on the side of a mountain. There is an old railroad bed cutting across the back and a pretty little stream with cascades and pools that trickles down the mountain. We found a couple of nice level places near the stream and talked about how the grandchildren will play in those pools. We will put a picnic table and fire pit on one of those places. We might even build a "bridge" off the deck to give easy access for elderly knees to this little enchanted spot.

That evening we had Cheryl over for supper with Dickon's parents Harry and Beth. Dickon had smoked a beef brisket all day, Franzi baked fresh rolls and made very tasty potato salad and the best creamed corn any of us had ever tasted (Franzi is a professionally trained and adventurous chef). Harry and Beth shared some of their story about leaving the Bruderhof and coming to Muncy Valley - it's an amazing story about an amazing family. We sang Elenor to bed, even singing an obscure Buderhof song to which we all knew the words. I suspect the testimony to God, spoken and simply lived that evening, will continue to resonate in Cheryl's heart for a long time.

We filled the rest of our time with visiting and with resting. The chemotherapy and travel had left me more tired than I expected. We left on Thursday afternoon, spending the night at a little motel in Bennington Vermont. We had decided to take the back roads home through Vermont and New Hampshire which was a lovely ride. In New Hampshire we found ourselves within 20 miles of my brother's home so we stopped in for an hour's visit. I felt real well yesterday, "better than normal" which made this an even more special "road trip".

Today (Saturday) we have old friends, Pam and Frank, from our "Radical Evangelical" days in the 80's stopping by for a visit. We did some crazy things with those two back in the day! We were the only two white families on the block when we lived in Roxbury Massachusetts together. We had our first communal living experiences with them. I was the "roady" for Franks band (I had a pickup truck). I brought them to the hospital (folding cot and all) when Pam had their first child.

Betty and I have had a rich life together and it is becoming richer still.

God is good.

[Wayne in Maine]

Pam and Frank Visited

I knew Pam and Frank when I attended Eastern Nazarene College in 1974 and they were still single. They were an odd couple. Pam was from an old Church of the Nazarene family, Frank was a musician, formerly a professional rock vocalist who had come to know Jesus when he and another band member went to a church to mock the attendees and ended up converted. Frank was in the circle of folk/rock musicians at ENC who did coffee houses and “specials” at churches. There was some great music being turned out back then from Keith Green, Randy Stonehill, Bruce Cockburn, Larry ”Why Should The Devil Have All The Good Music” Norman… When Frank and several other key performers graduated from ENC they did a concert on the steps of the admin building. I long ago lost the cassette I had of it, but I best remember their version of Lesley Duncan’s “Love Song”, which I believe is a rich allegory for God’s calling us to Him.

The words I have to say
May well be simple but they're true
Until you give your love
there's nothing more that I can do

Love is the opening door
Love is what I came here for
No-one could offer you more
Do you know what I mean
Have your eyes really seen

You say it's very hard
To leave behind the life you knew
But there's no other way
And now it's really up to you

Love is the key you must turn
Truth is the flame you must burn
Freedom the lesson you must learn
Do you know what I mean?
Have your eyes really seen?

Around 1980 Betty and I started meeting with some friends who were seeking to live by the Gospels, not merely preach a gospel. We were "Radical Evangelicals" returning to the roots. That’s where we really got to know Pam and Frank. We read Sojourners and “The Other Side” magazines. Our required reading list included Gish’s “Beyond the Rat Race, Sider’s “Rich Christians in an age of Hunger” Snyder’s “The Problem with Wine Skins”. That’s where I was introduced to Yoder’s “The Politics of Jesus” and “The Plough” published by the Bruderhof Communities. We were Activists, “war tax resistors”, anti-nuclear / anti-war protestors. We met and worshiped together in our homes, we studied together and worked for biblical justice together.

The Chesley’s (Betty and me) and the Nemeth’s (Pam and Frank) were the shock troops of the group. We were the couples that moved into the “ghetto” in Boston to attempt “community” and serve our neighbors (some of whom were inclined to steal our stuff or throw rock at our cars!) Our theme was “We Rush In Where Fools Fear to Tread!” We later shared a run-down house in Lynn Mass where we had to wash our dishes in the bathtub because that was the only place with running water that made it down the drain. Frank (with my help) fixed the plumbing, the electricity, put up drywall and cabinetry and slowly made the place livable. We shared everything – which was not much. We didn’t have to pay “war taxes” because we didn’t earn enough to pay any taxes! Frank was unemployed, Betty was in Nursing School, Pam was experiencing a difficult pregnancy and I was the only one employed in our "community", at a state-run residential school for the developmentally disabled. One evening our food stores were down to potatoes and a single egg. Pam got the egg.

Eventually that little house church of about a dozen souls broke up. We stayed in touch with Pam and Frank periodically as I went to Engineering school. When we moved to the Bruderhof for a trial period we gave a lot of our stuff to them and stored other of our last possessions at their home in Middleton (another wreck which Frank was fixing up). When we were expelled from the Bruderhof, Pam and Frank were gracious in offering back some of the things we had given to them – it made transitioning back to our "normal" life nicer to see some of “our” things in the house again. Pam and Frank raised and homeschooled their children in Massachusetts, we raised and homeschooled ours in Maine. We of course lost touch until recently, when Pam read about my cancer and prognosis.

Pam and Frank offered encouragement and added their prayers to the many being lifted up for me. We had not seen them face-to-face for almost a decade. But “coincidentally” they were planning a vacation trip in Lincolnville and Rockland Maine in June that got moved to April, so they stopped by yesterday.

“Coincidentally” yesterday was a beautiful 70 degree Maine spring day. I made a fire in the fire pit in our backyard, and we had a cookout and sat around chatting about old times and new times. I had told Pam that they are not allowed to visit unless Frank would entertain us with some music. Frank had not performed or played for a decade, but he played an old guitar I lent him and he sang in the clear vocals we remembered. He sang some of the old songs and promised me he would make a .mp3 of a concert he had done at a Christian Coffeehouse in Salem New Hampshire 30 odd years ago that was on reel-to-reel tape!



Frank has come to realize that he has an addiction to what I call “the digital drug” – on-line video games. I reminded him of something that "coincidentally" popped up on my facebook page the other day after Pam called to ask for prayer about this: "Addiction is giving up everything for one thing, Recovery is giving up one thing for everything". I hoped my testimony (“don’t let the prospect of dying in a year be the thing that turns your life around to serving God!”) will encourage him to quit this drug and use his time and talents to build God’s Kingdom. We all talked about it. I pray that he will yield to God and know the contentment and joy of service to Him. I long to get a new recording of Frank performing the old hippy era Jesus freak folk music to old Jesus Freaks like me. We all ministered to each other yesterday afternoon, increasing the measure of joy in the world. And that too is what the Kingdom of God is all about.

[Wayne in Maine]

I finally got to say it for real!

I got a call from my "nurse care manager" at my insurance company. She asked how I was doing and I said "Great!". She explained her role in my care and asked a few questions. I answered them in my usual (these days) cheery voice. She commented on my great attitude and I explained how good the Lord has been to me and that I was just going to live this year in gratitude to Him. I of course had to explain to her that I am not on any mind altering drugs, that I am really and truly content. She finished her call by letting me know that I can call her any time if there's anything she can help me with then she asked if she can call me again in three weeks. I responded "That's fine, but you can call me anytime before then if you need cheering up!"

[Wayne in Maine]

I got some good news from my Oncologist. I am approved for Immunotherapy. It has been approved for general use so my genetic screening is irrelevant, though a positive result of that screening will be a good indication that it will be especially effective.

How effective? The survival rate follows a curve. It’s pretty complicated to find an individual’s trajectory on that curve, but on the basis of the extent of my metastasis (spread of cancer throughout my body) with chemotherapy my probability of dying in a year +/- 6 months are are in the 40-70% range. The probability of living 5 years is roughly 5%. immunotherapy lifts the curve at that far end. How much? I don’t really know but my doctor is optimistic.

He was also pleased with how well I am responding to the chemotherapy, particularly the first treatment having totally eliminated the pain I was experiencing and the inflammation of my lymph nodes. I start the immunotherapy as an addition to my chemo in two weeks. We might even shorten my initial chemotherapy duration to 8 sessions instead of 10, switching over to just the immunotherapy. We will know better the course of the cancer and therapy in June when I have my next PET scan.

Nevertheless I am only planning ahead six months and living for the day yielded to God and experiencing a contentment and even a quieter spirit (a bit less curmudgeonly!) I have only once truly experienced before in my life.

[Szdfan]

Wayne,

I’m often not sure how to respond because I feel my words are an inadequate response to this journey you are on, but I do want to say that I see such profound sacredness in your words and I am deeply grateful at your willingness to share them with the rest of us. Thank you for this gift and blessings to you.

Jeremy

[HondurasKeiser]

Something small that you wrote caught my eye. Did I read you correctly that you and Betty are moving to Muncy Valley? If so, where exactly? My family is from nearby Williamsport.

[Wayne in Maine]

Wayne,

I’m often not sure how to respond because I feel my words are an inadequate response to this journey you are on, but I do want to say that I see such profound sacredness in your words and I am deeply grateful at your willingness to share them with the rest of us. Thank you for this gift and blessings to you.

Jeremy

I guess I understand that Jeremy. That is one of the reasons why I started this thread and one of the reasons I try to maintain communications with my family and friends - to help put them be at ease when dealing with (myself and) others who are facing a terminal illness. I'm living day, by day, month by month. The "terminal" part of my disease is not my focus and I do not cling desperately to a hope that I will be miraculously or medically cured. Any progress in extending my life or improving the quality of it is a gift.

In the mean time this is merely a change in my life, from moving to a new home to "retiring" with my wife to experiencing an amazing change in my heart - not out of a fear of death but out of a love for the God of Grace and Mercy to whom I am yielded and who is in control and showing that grace and mercy every day in truly marvelous ways.

I chatted with Dan Z the other about one of those little miracles and all he could say was "wow, wow, wow!" Aside from the strange convergence of nearly impossible coincidences (God is good at logistics) to the changes in my heart and attitude to a renewed sharpness and clarity of mind that is letting me finish some reading and studies I was hoping to work on in my retirement to the renewing old friendships while cultivating new ones, and getting around to visits and conversation that should never have been so delayed. These are all things that God is doing in my life and for me it affirms a "real presence" which is sustaining and which lets me focus on living. Those are the things I like to talk about.

God is good.