Warning -- This is a LONG entry! Can't cram a month into one page. :)
It’s been a month since Mom lost the man that she had been married for almost 67 years. A lot of emotional ups and downs have taken place in these past few weeks. For some reason, I have found it difficult to write about Mom and her circumstances. Most of the updates have been about Dad…what he meant to me, to family members and to friends and acquaintances. The memories have been a vital part of the healing process, especially for me. The memories have also been very helpful for sharing with Mom to facilitate her own grieving. In her state of mind at this time in her life, it has been an interesting process, to say the least, to watch and help her with the business of grieving.
I struggle as I sit here trying to put into words where we’ve been with Mom these past several weeks. Why?? In some respects, I’m thinking, I have lost both of my parents. My mother is just a shadow of the vibrant, strong, highly intelligent and wise woman that she once was. Where do I begin as I try to process the emotions and challenges I deal with?
The thing that keeps coming back to my mind is the story I was told about the last time Dad was taken to the hospital from the nursing home. We were in Pennsylvania and the decision was made between Sherri and myself by phone that Dad should be transported to the hospital. When the ambulance came to the facility to pick him up and transport him, it was time for Bingo. As they were taking Dad out, Mom was on her way to Bingo. For anyone reading this who knew my Mom in her younger years of mental clarity, this would be shocking! That she could calmly go to Bingo because this was her new “fun” routine while her husband was on his way to the hospital speaks volumes about where she is mentally at this point in her life.
During the process of Dad’s final days Mom had very little “normal” interaction with him. She was frustrated and confused by the state he was in. She would turn to us and say that he wasn’t looking at her or he wasn’t responding to her. She even made the comment at one point that there didn’t seem to be a reason to spend much time with him because he wasn’t responding to her. Consequently, we didn’t push for her to visit him but let her take the lead in telling us when she wanted to see him.
When Dad was taken to Hospice she called me that first night, when we were getting ready to leave Dad to go home for the night. She was crying and asking to see him. I had promised her that she could see him anytime that she wanted to, so Rich, Sam and I went back across town to get her and took her back to see him. That was the first time that she had seemed to really get it that things were not good. Even though we had talked about the process, (I had talked to her before we told the Dr. that we needed to comply with his issues and stop tube feeding), she didn’t remember the details and had confused ideas about what was going on.
On the day that Dad passed away, Mom was the most lucid that she had been in awhile. She was calm, sweet and loving in her interaction with him. But afterwards she said, “why is his mouth still open?” I told her that he was singing with the angels and couldn’t close it. She seemed to take that explanation just as a child would and was content with that answer.
Mom spent the rest of the day (Friday) with us at the house…sometimes crying but just enjoying being with the family. She was ready to go back to her room for the night after we finished supper. It was really tough knowing what to do for her and thinking of her being alone in her room. We made the decision that it would be too confusing if we were to bring her home to sleep for the night and could conceivably create problems. I told her that she could call me any time and that I didn’t want her to be lonely and by herself when she was sad. She spent Saturday and Sunday afternoons at the house with us. Sunday afternoon was the memorial service at the church. She really didn’t seem to grasp what was happening. At the end of the service she asked if she could say something and Pastor David gave her the microphone. She told the audience that they had a great pastor and worship pastor and that they visited her. While sweet, it was not a normal response for a grieving widow. Two days later she told the staff at the nursing home that she was fine now…she was on top of things and ready to help other people. Again, while a nice thing in theory, not normal. Her husband hadn’t been gone a week and she was ready to move on.
We had some concerns for her on one hand but on the other hand, it seemed that her dementia was a gift. Never thought I would be thankful for dementia! It seemed to be softening the blow of the loss of her dear husband. Later, as many cards and letters came in…stories of memories that people had of Dad… she would cry as she heard them. One day she told me that she had been awake during the night crying, thinking of Dad. All of this encouraged my heart as I felt like she was finally able to recognize the loss and begin to grieve in a healthy manner. When she cries, though, she apologizes like it is something bad and we remind her always that this is a normal part of things and it’s just fine to cry.
Mom wanted all of Dad’s clothes out of the room quickly and packed them up herself because Rosie and I didn’t do it fast enough. She wanted his name off the door…it made her cry. She wanted the sign on his closet that reminded the staff to use his suspenders removed right away. She wanted all memories of him out of the room! She said it was too hard to deal with. The facility sent a staff psychologist into chat with her. He told her he was there to help her with the loss of her husband. She told me that she wasn’t very impressed with this minister that came in to visit with her. “He didn’t know Daddy and I didn’t want to talk to him about him!” she said.
Many of the staff had fallen love with them and were very protective of Mom. They would let me know if they thought that she needed me or was too sad. They facility had planned to leave Mom alone in the room as long as they could but they told me about a week after Dad died that they would be needing to the space and would be needing to move someone in. They moved a resident in who was quite mobile and verbal. On first meeting one would think that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. She is a very sweet lady. Mom introduced me to her several times and Marie was just as glad to meet me each time as if it had been the first. The problem with this arrangement was that sweet little Marie was a tag along. She followed Mom everywhere and Mom just about went crazy. She was crying and upset and I asked for a change to be made. Her next roommate was a lady who had had a stroke and couldn’t speak. Her mind seems to be quite clear and she is pretty mobile and is up and about and out of the room quite a bit. But to communicate, she must write it down on a pad of paper if gestures don’t work. This time it was Hazel who wasn’t happy with the arrangement… mostly because she liked the setup of her previous room. Mom wasn’t very happy either, though, because Hazel had her TV on all the time. It wasn’t anything that Mom wouldn’t watch but it was the fact that there was noise most of the time. Before the staff could work on any changes, Hazel’s son showed up out of nowhere and decided to take her home. Up until this time, Hazel had told the staff that her children didn’t want her around. This son said that he would take her to Arizona where her daughter lived. It wasn’t much more than a week that Hazel was back in the room with Mom. She wrote a note to Mom on her note pad that her kids didn’t want her. He brought her back with no belongings. This time, Mom seemed able to connect that Hazel had nothing and she was rich in love. They seemed to be coexisting quite well but when I asked the administration about it they said that Hazel still wanted to go back to her old room. It’s been a week and they are still together and Hazel seems to hanging in there okay. She seems to like the fact that I will fight for her as well as for Mom and has asked me to handle a situation for her. Maybe they will be able to stay together. Mom has gotten quite used to the TV being on and actually seems to be enjoying some of the things she sees. She forgets to turn on her own TV so she watches the news and game shows over Hazel’s shoulder (so to speak).
A couple of weeks ago I had encouraged Mom to play the piano in the dining room. She didn’t seem to realize that it was there for anyone to play. The staff knew that she played but she had not agreed to play for them yet. Once she tried the piano out and the people heard her, she began to get requests to play. This encouraged her and she called me one day and said the she wanted to use her money to get a piano tuner because the piano was a mess! Then she asked me for music so we got a couple of her songbooks from home. A family member of another resident heard her play and brought her a binder with music in it for Mom to have. That was such a kind gesture.
Last week Mom was asked if she would represent the facility, along with a friend of hers, in a county wide senior lady’s competition. I’m not sure what the event is actually called but many of the nursing homes are participating with two ladies from each who have interesting backgrounds. She will be taken shopping to find a formal dress and have her hair and nails done for the event. They plan to have the ladies taken to the event in a limousine. It will be held at a local church and families are encouraged to attend. I had told her about it first. Then a few days later she was officially asked by one of the staff. She didn’t remember that I had told her about it. On the afternoon of the day that the staff member asked her, I visited with her and was asking about her conversation in the morning. She didn’t remember it at all. She just remembered the staff member speaking with her but didn’t have any idea about what. One thing for sure…life can be real exciting when you have new experiences every day.
I visit with Mom every day. In the whole time that she has been in the facility there have only been a couple of days that I haven’t seen her. Keeping a schedule is not one of my strong points and I have not established a routine of visitation as Mom had done with her Mom. When Grandma was in the nursing home, Mom used to visit her every day at 2:00 on the dot. Her life was ruled by this plan. Early on, I had decided that I couldn’t and wouldn’t do this. Since Mom has always been ruled by schedules, I knew that this would be deadly for her and for me. It was hard for her at first. She wanted to know when I would be there so she could be in the room. It took awhile but she finally became comfortable with my direction. That was to go about her day and do what she wanted to do and not worry about when I would come. But I promised her that I would find her wherever she was when I got there. She also was afraid to nap at the beginning in case I would come and she would miss me. Another promise…I would never come and leave without seeing her. She has gotten so comfortable with the staff that she will now ask them for help instead of waiting for me. One day B.J. called me. She was just leaving the facility after visiting with Mom. She had spent time with her while she was in physical therapy and then when it was time for lunch she proceeded to walk with her to lunch, planning to keep her company during lunch. When they got to the door of the dining room, Mom turned to B.J. and thanked her coming to visit and have a nice day. When B.J. told me this story I laughed and told her that she had been dismissed!! B.J. heartily agreed. Mom was ready to spend time with her friends and didn’t need anyone getting in the way of that.
Mom’s friends from their Sunday School class have been wonderful! They visit frequently and had asked what they could do for her. I suggested a birdfeeder to place outside of her window along with the flowers that we had placed there. They did that and she has had such a great time watching the birds come to the feeder. One lady visited Mom at 9:00 PM. I noticed that Mom had written the lady’s name in her guest book with the time noted beside it. The next day she told me that she didn’t appreciate people coming to see her at 9:00 at night! Speaking of the guest book…she asks visitors several times during their visit to be sure and sign her guest book. If you don’t sign and she remembers, she will write your name in the guest book. She has been keeping guest books for years! The other day, Heather found Mom’s old ones and found the date of her first visit to Grandma and Grandpa’s house when she was a baby.
The most amazing thing occurred on our way back to the facility this past Sunday. We had taken her to church and then home for lunch with the family. Heather and family had been here for the week and were leaving to go home after lunch. Sherri’s family was coming for lunch as well. She was so excited to be with everyone but was ready to head back to her room about 2:30. On the way back I was telling her that next Sunday would be a quiet one because Sherri’s family wouldn’t be with us and Heather’s family would be back in Tallahassee. She told me not to worry about her because she had people. She would be fine. Amazing!
Yesterday, when I arrived at the facility to visit Mom, Shelly, the admissions director told me she had a funny story for me. During the morning Bible study time, the man who normally led it was unable to attend. A lady resident decided that she would run it. Afterwards, Mom went up to Shelly and asked who was in charge here. She said it wasn’t her but could she help with something. Mom told her that something needed to be done about this lady who got up and led the Bible study. Marie, Mom’s first roommate happened to be with her. Mom told Shelly “we are not Mormans and this lady should not be allowed to lead the study! When the normal leader cannot be there we should just dismiss and wait until the next time!” Marie piped up and said “and I’m Roman Catholic!” (Or was that Morman Catholic?) I told Shelly that I think they are finally getting to see my Mom and she agreed!
Mom seems to be very content with her place in life at this time. The staff loves her and she loves them. When we take her out she tells them that she will be back and they reply that she’d better or they will come and find her. This gives me a peace that has been difficult to come by in these past few months. And for that I am very thankful!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
A letter from my cousin, Sylvia
August 21, 2009
Dear Lois,
It’s been interesting to read the notes from your folks’ coworkers in Africa. I don’t have any memories from there (!) but I have some from the U.S.A.
My earliest memories of your father are when he lived with us briefly while he was working (I think) at GE or maybe studying. I’m not sure. That was a very long time ago.
We had some emotional farewells and welcome home events when your family would depart or return from Africa. I remember my mom jumping up and down and crying, “I see Johnny! I see Johnny!” when your ship was docking.
After the Africa years were over and your dad was president at Frankfort, I stayed with your family on several occasions when I was on deputation. I don’t remember how many times I visited and spoke in churches where your father was pastoring but he always gave me an open door to share my ministry with his church people. Your parents were faithful supporters of mine for probably close to 40 years.
I remember your father speaking on “missionary day” at one of the campmeetings we attended. He told the people, “I’d like to talk shop today,” and then he told some of the nitty-gritty of the workings of the mission on the field. Another time, I remember him telling about the time your mom was bitten by the puff adder and how the Lord spared her life.
One thing I really admired about your folks was that they always thought the best of people. They never made negative comments about people even when others were doing it and the information was true.
It may have been more than one time, but I remember the family reunion we had in Troutville (53 of us that time) and the whole gang sang From Every Stormy Wind and your father was the chief organizer. Too bad we don’t have a recording of it.
I think Phil still has the “pump lamp” that your father made for us. It’s in the shape of an old fashioned water pump. You turn it on and off by pulling the pump handle. He was a master craftsman.
Your father’s passing marks the end of an era in our family.
Now he’s with his parents and siblings in the presence of Jesus. We miss him but we have to be happy for him.
We pray the Lord will fill your heart with His peace.
Lots of love,
Sylvia
Dear Lois,
It’s been interesting to read the notes from your folks’ coworkers in Africa. I don’t have any memories from there (!) but I have some from the U.S.A.
My earliest memories of your father are when he lived with us briefly while he was working (I think) at GE or maybe studying. I’m not sure. That was a very long time ago.
We had some emotional farewells and welcome home events when your family would depart or return from Africa. I remember my mom jumping up and down and crying, “I see Johnny! I see Johnny!” when your ship was docking.
After the Africa years were over and your dad was president at Frankfort, I stayed with your family on several occasions when I was on deputation. I don’t remember how many times I visited and spoke in churches where your father was pastoring but he always gave me an open door to share my ministry with his church people. Your parents were faithful supporters of mine for probably close to 40 years.
I remember your father speaking on “missionary day” at one of the campmeetings we attended. He told the people, “I’d like to talk shop today,” and then he told some of the nitty-gritty of the workings of the mission on the field. Another time, I remember him telling about the time your mom was bitten by the puff adder and how the Lord spared her life.
One thing I really admired about your folks was that they always thought the best of people. They never made negative comments about people even when others were doing it and the information was true.
It may have been more than one time, but I remember the family reunion we had in Troutville (53 of us that time) and the whole gang sang From Every Stormy Wind and your father was the chief organizer. Too bad we don’t have a recording of it.
I think Phil still has the “pump lamp” that your father made for us. It’s in the shape of an old fashioned water pump. You turn it on and off by pulling the pump handle. He was a master craftsman.
Your father’s passing marks the end of an era in our family.
Now he’s with his parents and siblings in the presence of Jesus. We miss him but we have to be happy for him.
We pray the Lord will fill your heart with His peace.
Lots of love,
Sylvia
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Letters from the mission field
Below is a post from my brother, Rich. He has been going through letters that our parents wrote home from the mission field and gathering information of the amazing life they have led. I find it astounding to hear of the experiences they had.
(Excerpt from letter from Jembo Mission, Northern Rhodesia 24 January, 1949)
Between Christmas and New Years, Brother Gray and I went on a short trip to
the valley. I had promised the people at Jumbo that I would visit them with the new
missionary way back in May before the Grays had gotten here and I had not been able
to keep my promise to them. So since it was dry weather, we went and had a good trip.
We went on bicycles and by foot, it seemed mostly by foot. The hills are not any smaller
than the last time that I tried that escarpment only then I had nothing to push. We left
here in the morning with our bicycles loaded, with two of our workers with us. We
reached our destination, Jumbo, about 5:30 and 24 miles later.
The last ten miles consisted of getting off and pushing up and down hills too bad
to ride. We have some pictures of the trip that ought to show the ruggedness of the
path. We made it all right but were quite tired and very thirsty. We had boiled water
once on the way but our water bags were empty when we reached there. We had taken
camp cots with us and we set them up in the school house as soon as we arrived. It
was very hot there and it seemed that we wouldn't get to sleep when we finally turned
in. We had a service with the people in the school yard. The only light that we had was
the light of a wood fire. It was so warm that you didn't want to have the fire too large. We
could see the forms of the people gathered around but could not distinguish them very
well. We had a good service and many prayed at the close.
The next day we pushed on to Kayuni which proved to be 13 miles by my
cyclometer. That trip was about as hard as the one on the previous day because we
were tired. The first five miles were terrific passing through river beds that were very
steep and big rocks on the banks. I had such a load on my bicycle that I couldn't lift it to
carry but had to push only. At the end of the five miles the water bags were empty and
we stopped to boil water. The last part was not so bad and we finally reached our
destination. We had a service with the people that night and went to bed thankfully. We
pitched our cots and nets out under the trees so that we could get what breeze there
was. That evening we made arrangements with two school boys from Jembo that were
on vacation, to carry our beds and blankets for us back to Jumbo and then later back to
the Mission. That was a big help for then the bicycles were light enough to carry over
the bad places.
In the morning we went on to the hot springs. Brother Gray had not seen them
before and we all wanted to take a bath. On the way we passed a small village where
some women were wailing. We stopped and enquired what was the matter. A small
baby had died the day before and they had buried it and were wailing over the grave.
We called the people together and I talked to them for a few minutes about how the little
one had gone to be with Jesus and that they should get prepared to go to heaven also.
We prayed with them and went on our way.
We had to walk downstream quite a ways to get to where the water was cool
enough for us to bathe. Where the water comes out of the hill side, it is nearly to the
boiling point. I ate some corn that was cooked in the water the last time that I was there.
After we had had our fill of seeing that phenomenon of nature, we returned to Kayuni.
We ate a little and began our journey back to Jumbo. It was not as bad this time since
we had less of a load to push. That evening we had another service with the people but
the wind blew so that it was hard to make yourself heard and we closed rather soon. We
Page 2 of 3
made arrangements to have four boys help carry our things up the escarpment for us.
So we (Brother Gray and I) were relieved of our bicycles and loads and we walked up in
comparative ease. At the top of the hill, about 14 miles from the Mission, we took the
bicycles again and rode on in. We were pretty tired when we got back but had had a
good trip. We had travelled altogether about 90 miles.
John Blann
(My notes: This is an amazing story to show the lengths that John Blann would go to in
order to reach out to the local people there. By today’s standards, it is hard to conceive
that amount of miles spent traveling around on a bicycle just to get from one place to
another. There are many stories of doing a 50 mile bicycle ride in one day just to go out
to preach or to check up on a mission station.)
(Excerpt from the 31 January 1949 letter written by John Blann to Brother Flexon
requesting support for opening a new mission station in a region that had previously not
been reached by the gospel.)
I have made seven trips to the Valley area in the past nine months. I am
more convinced of the need and the opportunity that is there. Along the river itself, there
is a very large concentration of population. We have eight schools open in the valley
and three that we have permission for but are unable to get teachers to go and teach. If
we had teachers we easily could open up another half dozen stations in as many
months. On one of my last trips there, a village asked me for a teacher. There are four
villages in that locality that have no one to teach or to preach to them. That is only an
isolated case too. The difficulty in getting teachers to go there is that the people on the
plateau regard the valley nearly as bad and as far away from their way of living as the
people in America do Africa. First there are practically no roads. The track that we have
used is in its infancy and has been used only by jeeps thus far. Secondly there are no
stores to buy the necessities of life such as salt, food, clothing, soap, etc. During the
heavy rains there is no way to get out at present. They have diseases there that are not
prevalent on the plateau. There are crocodiles in the river where the people draw water.
It is a starvation area because the people do not know proper ways to take care of the
ground and grow enough food. All these things go through the teacher’s minds when
they are asked to go to the valley to help those people.
All of our teachers are first generation Christians and are just a few steps
away from heathenism. I don't know that we can blame them too much when some
Christians in America will hardly turn over their hand towards the fulfillment of the Great
Commission. However these things do exist and must be overcome. The only ways they
will be overcome is by example. We must have a sub-station there where a missionary
stays. There must be a dispensary attached. Roads must be opened up for easy
transportation of essentials. The people must be taught better methods of agriculture so
they will not have a famine yearly. If this is done then I believe that it will be easier to get
Page 3 of 3
teachers to go and work there. Also the expanding of the work there will raise up
Christian workers from the Valley people themselves. It will take time for they are living
in great spiritual darkness. The last trip that I made in the valley, one of our workers was
talking to a man about going to heaven. His answer was that he was too old to repent.
The work there in the valley is real pioneer work such as there is in few parts of Africa
today. We need a missionary there if we are really going to do anything for those
people. The number of people that there are in that area under our work is as great as
the number that are in the area in the plateau, I believe. There is room for a complete
mission field in the valley that would take all the time of a couple and a nurse easily right
now, and room for expansion in the coming years when the country is opened up more
in a material way. What can we do with it? I have already in a previous letter offered my
services in that field if someone could be sent to relieve me at Jembo. One hardly dares
to not obey the words that Jesus spoke to His disciples "Lift up your eyes and look on
the fields". There just is not enough time and strength to do what needs to be done.
I think that I have finished my epistle for this time. Please do not think that
what I have said is in anyway demanding. It is only that as I see the possibilities of
advancement, it is my heart's desire to see the work of God go forward.
I can testify that I love the Lord with all my heart and find much joy in being
able to serve Him in Africa. My constant prayer is that He will help me to be more for
Him.
Yours in His service
H. John Blann
(My notes: It is that very area that John and Eva Blann spent during the next eight
years. There are many stories of going into villages that had never heard the Good
News and how that ultimately ended up touching the lives of thousands for the good.
They reached out to the people in a unique way; preaching the gospel, developing
schools for the local people, trained native pastors to continue the work, helped
establish medical clinics and hospitals, and established many churches in the area.
The resourcefulness of this couple to minister to the needs of the people there has been
an amazing story to read.)
(Excerpt from letter from Jembo Mission, Northern Rhodesia 24 January, 1949)
Between Christmas and New Years, Brother Gray and I went on a short trip to
the valley. I had promised the people at Jumbo that I would visit them with the new
missionary way back in May before the Grays had gotten here and I had not been able
to keep my promise to them. So since it was dry weather, we went and had a good trip.
We went on bicycles and by foot, it seemed mostly by foot. The hills are not any smaller
than the last time that I tried that escarpment only then I had nothing to push. We left
here in the morning with our bicycles loaded, with two of our workers with us. We
reached our destination, Jumbo, about 5:30 and 24 miles later.
The last ten miles consisted of getting off and pushing up and down hills too bad
to ride. We have some pictures of the trip that ought to show the ruggedness of the
path. We made it all right but were quite tired and very thirsty. We had boiled water
once on the way but our water bags were empty when we reached there. We had taken
camp cots with us and we set them up in the school house as soon as we arrived. It
was very hot there and it seemed that we wouldn't get to sleep when we finally turned
in. We had a service with the people in the school yard. The only light that we had was
the light of a wood fire. It was so warm that you didn't want to have the fire too large. We
could see the forms of the people gathered around but could not distinguish them very
well. We had a good service and many prayed at the close.
The next day we pushed on to Kayuni which proved to be 13 miles by my
cyclometer. That trip was about as hard as the one on the previous day because we
were tired. The first five miles were terrific passing through river beds that were very
steep and big rocks on the banks. I had such a load on my bicycle that I couldn't lift it to
carry but had to push only. At the end of the five miles the water bags were empty and
we stopped to boil water. The last part was not so bad and we finally reached our
destination. We had a service with the people that night and went to bed thankfully. We
pitched our cots and nets out under the trees so that we could get what breeze there
was. That evening we made arrangements with two school boys from Jembo that were
on vacation, to carry our beds and blankets for us back to Jumbo and then later back to
the Mission. That was a big help for then the bicycles were light enough to carry over
the bad places.
In the morning we went on to the hot springs. Brother Gray had not seen them
before and we all wanted to take a bath. On the way we passed a small village where
some women were wailing. We stopped and enquired what was the matter. A small
baby had died the day before and they had buried it and were wailing over the grave.
We called the people together and I talked to them for a few minutes about how the little
one had gone to be with Jesus and that they should get prepared to go to heaven also.
We prayed with them and went on our way.
We had to walk downstream quite a ways to get to where the water was cool
enough for us to bathe. Where the water comes out of the hill side, it is nearly to the
boiling point. I ate some corn that was cooked in the water the last time that I was there.
After we had had our fill of seeing that phenomenon of nature, we returned to Kayuni.
We ate a little and began our journey back to Jumbo. It was not as bad this time since
we had less of a load to push. That evening we had another service with the people but
the wind blew so that it was hard to make yourself heard and we closed rather soon. We
Page 2 of 3
made arrangements to have four boys help carry our things up the escarpment for us.
So we (Brother Gray and I) were relieved of our bicycles and loads and we walked up in
comparative ease. At the top of the hill, about 14 miles from the Mission, we took the
bicycles again and rode on in. We were pretty tired when we got back but had had a
good trip. We had travelled altogether about 90 miles.
John Blann
(My notes: This is an amazing story to show the lengths that John Blann would go to in
order to reach out to the local people there. By today’s standards, it is hard to conceive
that amount of miles spent traveling around on a bicycle just to get from one place to
another. There are many stories of doing a 50 mile bicycle ride in one day just to go out
to preach or to check up on a mission station.)
(Excerpt from the 31 January 1949 letter written by John Blann to Brother Flexon
requesting support for opening a new mission station in a region that had previously not
been reached by the gospel.)
I have made seven trips to the Valley area in the past nine months. I am
more convinced of the need and the opportunity that is there. Along the river itself, there
is a very large concentration of population. We have eight schools open in the valley
and three that we have permission for but are unable to get teachers to go and teach. If
we had teachers we easily could open up another half dozen stations in as many
months. On one of my last trips there, a village asked me for a teacher. There are four
villages in that locality that have no one to teach or to preach to them. That is only an
isolated case too. The difficulty in getting teachers to go there is that the people on the
plateau regard the valley nearly as bad and as far away from their way of living as the
people in America do Africa. First there are practically no roads. The track that we have
used is in its infancy and has been used only by jeeps thus far. Secondly there are no
stores to buy the necessities of life such as salt, food, clothing, soap, etc. During the
heavy rains there is no way to get out at present. They have diseases there that are not
prevalent on the plateau. There are crocodiles in the river where the people draw water.
It is a starvation area because the people do not know proper ways to take care of the
ground and grow enough food. All these things go through the teacher’s minds when
they are asked to go to the valley to help those people.
All of our teachers are first generation Christians and are just a few steps
away from heathenism. I don't know that we can blame them too much when some
Christians in America will hardly turn over their hand towards the fulfillment of the Great
Commission. However these things do exist and must be overcome. The only ways they
will be overcome is by example. We must have a sub-station there where a missionary
stays. There must be a dispensary attached. Roads must be opened up for easy
transportation of essentials. The people must be taught better methods of agriculture so
they will not have a famine yearly. If this is done then I believe that it will be easier to get
Page 3 of 3
teachers to go and work there. Also the expanding of the work there will raise up
Christian workers from the Valley people themselves. It will take time for they are living
in great spiritual darkness. The last trip that I made in the valley, one of our workers was
talking to a man about going to heaven. His answer was that he was too old to repent.
The work there in the valley is real pioneer work such as there is in few parts of Africa
today. We need a missionary there if we are really going to do anything for those
people. The number of people that there are in that area under our work is as great as
the number that are in the area in the plateau, I believe. There is room for a complete
mission field in the valley that would take all the time of a couple and a nurse easily right
now, and room for expansion in the coming years when the country is opened up more
in a material way. What can we do with it? I have already in a previous letter offered my
services in that field if someone could be sent to relieve me at Jembo. One hardly dares
to not obey the words that Jesus spoke to His disciples "Lift up your eyes and look on
the fields". There just is not enough time and strength to do what needs to be done.
I think that I have finished my epistle for this time. Please do not think that
what I have said is in anyway demanding. It is only that as I see the possibilities of
advancement, it is my heart's desire to see the work of God go forward.
I can testify that I love the Lord with all my heart and find much joy in being
able to serve Him in Africa. My constant prayer is that He will help me to be more for
Him.
Yours in His service
H. John Blann
(My notes: It is that very area that John and Eva Blann spent during the next eight
years. There are many stories of going into villages that had never heard the Good
News and how that ultimately ended up touching the lives of thousands for the good.
They reached out to the people in a unique way; preaching the gospel, developing
schools for the local people, trained native pastors to continue the work, helped
establish medical clinics and hospitals, and established many churches in the area.
The resourcefulness of this couple to minister to the needs of the people there has been
an amazing story to read.)
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Memories - Part two
Tonight I will share an excerpt of a letter received by way of another missionary that we served with in Africa. The letter is from "good neighbors and all the missionaries loved them very much".
"Thank you for letting me know that John Blann had passed on I was sad to hear about it. I immediately started to think about him and our original meeting of around 47/48 I think, and the circumstances that surrounded it. John and Eva got off the train with little Rose Marie at what must have been for them a very bare station only to find no one there to meet them, and how by good fortune on that afternoon, I had taken my Mother into Pemba to meet and socialize with the wife of a railway employee for an hour or two, and then somehow I had met up with John on the deserted platform of Pemba Station, and to be asked by him if I knew of a Jembo Mission?? Apparently, John had sent a telegram to Jembo Mission advising of his arrival but as you will doubtless remember in those days, telegrams were not delivered but were treated as letters in your postal box awaiting collections. Anyway, what happened was that my Mother and I took them out to Jembo, with Eva and Rose Marie sitting in the front of our old 1938 Chevy pick-up with my Mother and myself, and John sitting in the open back with their luggage. When we arrived at Jembo there was much consternation amongst the 2 or 3 ladies who were the only staff on the Mission as nobody knew when the Blanns were arriving and I seem to think that there was no male Missionary staff in residence at that time. Those first few weeks/months must have been quite an eye-opener for the Blanns at that time! To my mind John was a highly capable mechanical genius and was able to turn his hand to almost anything that needed repair. I remember him installing new ceilings in the lounge at our house and also one of the bedrooms. He also did an overhaul of the engine on that old Chevy and installed new rings and bearings. I remember quite clearly going out with John when they were stationed in the Zambesi Valley on the edge of the mighty Zambesi River on at least 3 occasion, hunting crocodiles at night with the aid of a powerful spotlight and the various dramas we had; one in particular which included you, Ray, and Roger, when we ran aground on a sandbank in the middle of the river which nearly catapulted all of us into the river! On another occasion, one of the crocodiles we had shot and dragged into the boat, suddenly came alive causing severe consternation in the boat until we could get a light on the scene. I then had the task of dispatching this sudden burst of life by administering several blows to the crocodile's head with a hammer, as a sort of coup de grace which in the process and excitement, I somehow managed to inexplicably throw John's precious steel handled hammer in the Zambesi.
Yes, John was a great and honorable person, and he will be remembered by many for the fine person he was. Please convey my deep sympathy to Eva and to remind her that I remember their days in Zambia with deep admiration."
In my last post I mentioned the simple faith and trust in the life of my Dad. This letter also shows the faith and trust this young family had to have to start this adventure of theirs with the Lord. But it also shows the spirit of adventure, thirst for a challenge and the creative ingenuity that defined my Dad. I sure do miss him!
"Thank you for letting me know that John Blann had passed on I was sad to hear about it. I immediately started to think about him and our original meeting of around 47/48 I think, and the circumstances that surrounded it. John and Eva got off the train with little Rose Marie at what must have been for them a very bare station only to find no one there to meet them, and how by good fortune on that afternoon, I had taken my Mother into Pemba to meet and socialize with the wife of a railway employee for an hour or two, and then somehow I had met up with John on the deserted platform of Pemba Station, and to be asked by him if I knew of a Jembo Mission?? Apparently, John had sent a telegram to Jembo Mission advising of his arrival but as you will doubtless remember in those days, telegrams were not delivered but were treated as letters in your postal box awaiting collections. Anyway, what happened was that my Mother and I took them out to Jembo, with Eva and Rose Marie sitting in the front of our old 1938 Chevy pick-up with my Mother and myself, and John sitting in the open back with their luggage. When we arrived at Jembo there was much consternation amongst the 2 or 3 ladies who were the only staff on the Mission as nobody knew when the Blanns were arriving and I seem to think that there was no male Missionary staff in residence at that time. Those first few weeks/months must have been quite an eye-opener for the Blanns at that time! To my mind John was a highly capable mechanical genius and was able to turn his hand to almost anything that needed repair. I remember him installing new ceilings in the lounge at our house and also one of the bedrooms. He also did an overhaul of the engine on that old Chevy and installed new rings and bearings. I remember quite clearly going out with John when they were stationed in the Zambesi Valley on the edge of the mighty Zambesi River on at least 3 occasion, hunting crocodiles at night with the aid of a powerful spotlight and the various dramas we had; one in particular which included you, Ray, and Roger, when we ran aground on a sandbank in the middle of the river which nearly catapulted all of us into the river! On another occasion, one of the crocodiles we had shot and dragged into the boat, suddenly came alive causing severe consternation in the boat until we could get a light on the scene. I then had the task of dispatching this sudden burst of life by administering several blows to the crocodile's head with a hammer, as a sort of coup de grace which in the process and excitement, I somehow managed to inexplicably throw John's precious steel handled hammer in the Zambesi.
Yes, John was a great and honorable person, and he will be remembered by many for the fine person he was. Please convey my deep sympathy to Eva and to remind her that I remember their days in Zambia with deep admiration."
In my last post I mentioned the simple faith and trust in the life of my Dad. This letter also shows the faith and trust this young family had to have to start this adventure of theirs with the Lord. But it also shows the spirit of adventure, thirst for a challenge and the creative ingenuity that defined my Dad. I sure do miss him!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Memories from the past
It's been almost four weeks since the man I called Daddy for 56 years exchanged life on earth with eternal life with his Lord. During these past weeks, we have received lots of wonderful cards and letters from family, friends and acquaintances. While all have been uplifting and encouraging, some have contained precious memories of my Dad. I'd like to share some of these here.
"Dear Lois,
Thanks for sharing with us about the "home going" of your dad just recently. Thinking about both he and your mother, brought back memories of our times with them. Ermal remembers especially how they pioneered the work in the valley in Zambia.
One special time was when he visited them and they were having a problem wit hyenas. They ad a shelter fixed for him to stay in, but when he arrived he was told the hyenas had chewed up the mattress in that shelter just the night before. He wasn't very excited about sleeping in the shelter, so he asked if he could sleep in their very small "home" - I think it had just 3 little rooms. He had to sleep on the floor and remembers his feet touching the screen door - the only thing between him and any hyenas that came through the night. He said he prayed most of the night and didn't get much sleep. Your dad also heard the hyenas when they came - he breathed a short prayer for the Lord's protection and slet through the night. The next morning they chatted about that - your dad prayed a short prayer and he slept - Ermal prayed through the night and got very little sleep."
It was fun to read this story from another missionary friend from long ago and I thank them for sharing it with us, One thing that struck me as I read this story and reflected on it was the simple faith of my Dad. That's why he could go into an area where others said it was impossible and impassable. He "prayed a short prayer and he slept". He so completely trusted that God would take care of them. I watched that complete trust play out many times through the years.
"Dear Lois,
Thanks for sharing with us about the "home going" of your dad just recently. Thinking about both he and your mother, brought back memories of our times with them. Ermal remembers especially how they pioneered the work in the valley in Zambia.
One special time was when he visited them and they were having a problem wit hyenas. They ad a shelter fixed for him to stay in, but when he arrived he was told the hyenas had chewed up the mattress in that shelter just the night before. He wasn't very excited about sleeping in the shelter, so he asked if he could sleep in their very small "home" - I think it had just 3 little rooms. He had to sleep on the floor and remembers his feet touching the screen door - the only thing between him and any hyenas that came through the night. He said he prayed most of the night and didn't get much sleep. Your dad also heard the hyenas when they came - he breathed a short prayer for the Lord's protection and slet through the night. The next morning they chatted about that - your dad prayed a short prayer and he slept - Ermal prayed through the night and got very little sleep."
It was fun to read this story from another missionary friend from long ago and I thank them for sharing it with us, One thing that struck me as I read this story and reflected on it was the simple faith of my Dad. That's why he could go into an area where others said it was impossible and impassable. He "prayed a short prayer and he slept". He so completely trusted that God would take care of them. I watched that complete trust play out many times through the years.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Struggles, Frustrations & Decisions
I have battled with leaving Mom in the nursing home following Dad's passing. My siblings have encouraged me not to take her home as I would be back in the same position needing to have help if I ever needed to be away from home. I have 4 grandchildren and our Heather (mom to three) is in Med school in Tallahassee. I want to be able to give her a hand at times with the children. I want to be able to just be a Nana. I’d like to be able to visit our son’s families in North and South Carolina. Yesterday, in church, I think I only heard half of the message as I was thinking through everything and trying to understand what it was that God would have me do. Sam is very supportive and would support whatever I decided but his inclination is to also leave Mom where she is while giving her lots of support and times away from the facility spent with us.
I was reminded today that God truly worked out all of the details for Mom and Dad to be at Doctors Lake and He did it for a reason. He could have called Daddy home a few weeks earlier before they left the house and Mom would still be here and I would still be very tied to the house and my responsibilities here. Mom is settled there and has made many friends of the staff and has many activities to enjoy and people to see and that wouldn't be the case here. I was so busy caring for Mom and Dad that I had very little time to "play" with them.
Today, Mom called and asked if she had dreamed it or did I say she could come home. I explained that where she was, she had a safe place to stay if I needed to be away to help with the grandkids and she had activities and friends there and that we could still do fun things together. Rosie was still here - they were packed and ready to go soon so I decided that I would just run and get her and bring her back here so that she could tell them goodbye from here and they wouldn't have to stop there. That would also help her to see that we weren't having a "party" without her. So I brought her home about 10am and she hung out here with me until I took her to get her nails done at noon. Then we went to eat at Chick-Fil-A (her favorite place) and then back to Doctors Lake by two so I could get to a Dr.'s appt. This is my commitment to her. I will leave her there to live but will be able to spend lots of quality time with her that I wasn't able to do when I did all of her care and Dad's care.
Mom has gone downhill mentally so much lately. This is a woman who has accomplished much in her lifetime. She was a talented and capable woman. And now, she cannot follow directions to do the handwork that she used to do. I gave her a kit today to make hot pads. She was so excited. The kind you weave from stretchy loops. She sat there and looped the first layer and then just placed the next layer of loops right over the top the other direction. I showed her that wasn't correct...helped her take them off and showed her how to weave it in. I did two loops to show her. Thirty minutes later she was still contentedly struggling with the third loop and only had it halfway woven in.
We had wanted to}] be a part of the Creek Church (the satellite campus across the street from us) but it is so very important for Mom to be in service at the main campus that we have decided that we will continue to attend there so that Mom can be there. Then we will bring her home for Sunday dinner with the family. Sherri and her family usually join us every Sunday after church. We will continue to take things one day at a time.
I was reminded today that God truly worked out all of the details for Mom and Dad to be at Doctors Lake and He did it for a reason. He could have called Daddy home a few weeks earlier before they left the house and Mom would still be here and I would still be very tied to the house and my responsibilities here. Mom is settled there and has made many friends of the staff and has many activities to enjoy and people to see and that wouldn't be the case here. I was so busy caring for Mom and Dad that I had very little time to "play" with them.
Today, Mom called and asked if she had dreamed it or did I say she could come home. I explained that where she was, she had a safe place to stay if I needed to be away to help with the grandkids and she had activities and friends there and that we could still do fun things together. Rosie was still here - they were packed and ready to go soon so I decided that I would just run and get her and bring her back here so that she could tell them goodbye from here and they wouldn't have to stop there. That would also help her to see that we weren't having a "party" without her. So I brought her home about 10am and she hung out here with me until I took her to get her nails done at noon. Then we went to eat at Chick-Fil-A (her favorite place) and then back to Doctors Lake by two so I could get to a Dr.'s appt. This is my commitment to her. I will leave her there to live but will be able to spend lots of quality time with her that I wasn't able to do when I did all of her care and Dad's care.
Mom has gone downhill mentally so much lately. This is a woman who has accomplished much in her lifetime. She was a talented and capable woman. And now, she cannot follow directions to do the handwork that she used to do. I gave her a kit today to make hot pads. She was so excited. The kind you weave from stretchy loops. She sat there and looped the first layer and then just placed the next layer of loops right over the top the other direction. I showed her that wasn't correct...helped her take them off and showed her how to weave it in. I did two loops to show her. Thirty minutes later she was still contentedly struggling with the third loop and only had it halfway woven in.
We had wanted to}] be a part of the Creek Church (the satellite campus across the street from us) but it is so very important for Mom to be in service at the main campus that we have decided that we will continue to attend there so that Mom can be there. Then we will bring her home for Sunday dinner with the family. Sherri and her family usually join us every Sunday after church. We will continue to take things one day at a time.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Finally, I'm back!! Time to share again.
I’m back! It’s been a week and a half since Daddy went to be with Jesus. I have been silent since then…unable to write. Many times I have wanted to sit down and share the circumstances of the day that he passed away but I just couldn’t do it. Whether I was too tired, too emotionally overwrought or too numb…I don’t know. I just know I couldn’t do it. It feels much longer than a week and a half – like Dad has been gone much longer. One of the booklets that I read about grief that I picked up from the funeral home said that even when our parent who passes is old and has dementia, we are saying goodbye to the Mom or Dad of our youth. It certainly is a bit of a phenomenon of sorts. As I was saying goodbye in the last days, I was saying goodbye to my “Daddy”. Remembering special times as a child with my Dad…the nights that I would wake up crying because I had dreamed that my Dad had left to go to an outstation in Africa without me. (I have memories of him taking me with him and was very jealous when my “little” brother was old enough to go along also.) Another memory was of how my Dad called me his “little Lotus blossom”. My brothers would sometimes call me “locust” instead of Lois to tease me but my Dad would always correct them and call me Lotus. These and other things I recalled with my Dad as he lay on his bed the last days of his life. Some of the things that I would recall brought a small smile to Dad’s face even when he wasn’t able to communicate. He heard me and was remembering with me.
I mentioned in the post I wrote the night before Dad passed away that the doctor had mentioned that Dad would probably have another 3 to 5 days. He indicated that he was a robust man and was very hydrated. Earlier, in February, when I first started to get help in at the house, one of the things that the nurse had been concerned about was that Dad was somewhat dehydrated. It was very difficult to get Dad to drink enough. Another thing that had concerned me was that he seemed to be a little blue around his lips, which could mean that he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I mention this because the night before he passed away he was more hydrated and had a higher oxygen level than had been normal for a while. We had prayed earlier that God would have mercy on Dad and not allow him to linger long and suffer. We had also specifically prayed for peace. That last night, before crawling into the roll-away-bed in his room I laid my head on his chest and cried. I told him many things but one thing I said was that he was not going to get better here…that the only way he was going to get better was with Jesus. Dad was a very strong and determined individual and if he had any thought that he would get better he would fight to stay. I know that God is sovereign and that His timing is perfect but I do believe that he uses each of us in His own way to fulfill His purposes and his plans.
I slept quite soundly during the night and yet I dreamed a lot. The nurse that came on duty at 11:00 pm never seemed to come in and yet I found out in the morning that they tried to be very quiet when they came in during the night because I was sleeping so well. I was agitated in the morning because I never once saw the nurse to talk with her and felt as if Dad was being neglected. I had a couple of hours with Dad in the morning before any other family member arrived. I sang through every song that Rosie had printed the words to and we had sung as a family on Sunday morning. Then I read scripture to him from his Bible and read from a devotional book we had in the room after which I stood up to talk to him. Dad had been pretty unresponsive and not moving his eyes to make eye contact for maybe about 24 hours. At that moment, when I began to talk with him, his eyes shifted and he made eye contact with me for several minutes. I know that he heard the things that I was saying to him and was trying to respond.
Mom called a short while later and said that she was ready to come and see Dad. We made arrangements for Sherri to go pick her up and bring her to the Hospice facility. Meanwhile, the nurse we had for the day shift had come in and assessed Dad. Her feeling was that we were in the hours to days time frame regarding his dying. Early in the morning Dad had spiked a fever of almost 103. His breathing was getting shallower and more quiet. Mom arrived as did many other family members. Sherri brought Mom, Marcia & Isaiah. Nila and I were in the room along with Rosie, Jim and Amber. Sam was coming to eat lunch at Hospice with us. When Mom arrived, she talked to Dad and he did the same thing that he had done with me…he moved his eyes and made eye contact with her. She told him that she loved him and he responded with a grunt which I am SURE was him telling her that he loved her too. A little while later we decided that many of us were hungry and we began to figure out what we were going to do for lunch. Sherri and Mom decided to stay in the room while the rest of us went to the cafeteria to get lunch. We kissed Dad goodbye before we left the room. We had just sat down and begun to eat our lunch when Sherri called my cell phone and said to come quickly.
We raced back to the room but he was gone by the time we returned. I think about Daddy all the time in many different contexts, I miss him but I am so thankful for him that he is with Jesus, his savior, his salvation…the one that he served with all his heart for almost all of his life (since he was four years old.)
I have received several letters and notes of remembrances of Dad. The way he ministered to people, the way he loved people, his integrity and his skills as a fix-it person. These letters are priceless memories and I hope to compile them in a manner for all the family to be able to enjoy and benefit from.
I have been falling asleep for the past several minutes as I write this Hopefully, it will make sense.zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
I mentioned in the post I wrote the night before Dad passed away that the doctor had mentioned that Dad would probably have another 3 to 5 days. He indicated that he was a robust man and was very hydrated. Earlier, in February, when I first started to get help in at the house, one of the things that the nurse had been concerned about was that Dad was somewhat dehydrated. It was very difficult to get Dad to drink enough. Another thing that had concerned me was that he seemed to be a little blue around his lips, which could mean that he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I mention this because the night before he passed away he was more hydrated and had a higher oxygen level than had been normal for a while. We had prayed earlier that God would have mercy on Dad and not allow him to linger long and suffer. We had also specifically prayed for peace. That last night, before crawling into the roll-away-bed in his room I laid my head on his chest and cried. I told him many things but one thing I said was that he was not going to get better here…that the only way he was going to get better was with Jesus. Dad was a very strong and determined individual and if he had any thought that he would get better he would fight to stay. I know that God is sovereign and that His timing is perfect but I do believe that he uses each of us in His own way to fulfill His purposes and his plans.
I slept quite soundly during the night and yet I dreamed a lot. The nurse that came on duty at 11:00 pm never seemed to come in and yet I found out in the morning that they tried to be very quiet when they came in during the night because I was sleeping so well. I was agitated in the morning because I never once saw the nurse to talk with her and felt as if Dad was being neglected. I had a couple of hours with Dad in the morning before any other family member arrived. I sang through every song that Rosie had printed the words to and we had sung as a family on Sunday morning. Then I read scripture to him from his Bible and read from a devotional book we had in the room after which I stood up to talk to him. Dad had been pretty unresponsive and not moving his eyes to make eye contact for maybe about 24 hours. At that moment, when I began to talk with him, his eyes shifted and he made eye contact with me for several minutes. I know that he heard the things that I was saying to him and was trying to respond.
Mom called a short while later and said that she was ready to come and see Dad. We made arrangements for Sherri to go pick her up and bring her to the Hospice facility. Meanwhile, the nurse we had for the day shift had come in and assessed Dad. Her feeling was that we were in the hours to days time frame regarding his dying. Early in the morning Dad had spiked a fever of almost 103. His breathing was getting shallower and more quiet. Mom arrived as did many other family members. Sherri brought Mom, Marcia & Isaiah. Nila and I were in the room along with Rosie, Jim and Amber. Sam was coming to eat lunch at Hospice with us. When Mom arrived, she talked to Dad and he did the same thing that he had done with me…he moved his eyes and made eye contact with her. She told him that she loved him and he responded with a grunt which I am SURE was him telling her that he loved her too. A little while later we decided that many of us were hungry and we began to figure out what we were going to do for lunch. Sherri and Mom decided to stay in the room while the rest of us went to the cafeteria to get lunch. We kissed Dad goodbye before we left the room. We had just sat down and begun to eat our lunch when Sherri called my cell phone and said to come quickly.
We raced back to the room but he was gone by the time we returned. I think about Daddy all the time in many different contexts, I miss him but I am so thankful for him that he is with Jesus, his savior, his salvation…the one that he served with all his heart for almost all of his life (since he was four years old.)
I have received several letters and notes of remembrances of Dad. The way he ministered to people, the way he loved people, his integrity and his skills as a fix-it person. These letters are priceless memories and I hope to compile them in a manner for all the family to be able to enjoy and benefit from.
I have been falling asleep for the past several minutes as I write this Hopefully, it will make sense.zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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