How We Made the Journey by Mark Edwards: Part Two

God’s presence and love was ever with us each step of our steep climb while we battled Honey’s cancer and dealt with her death, now thirteen months ago.  In my last post, I reported identifying four ways God provided for us during and since that time.  The first was who Honey was. The second was the unbelievable support system, which affectionately called our Herd!

Both of our families – the Edwards’ and Wests, all out-of-state – were attentive and supportive the whole time.  Honey’s two brothers, one in Texas and one in California, made special, separate trips out here to be with their little sis a few days each.  That meant so much to her.  There weren’t many days between phone calls from my three sibs and even a few cousins.  Most of both clans were able to come when Honey died.

One advantage of being allowed to minister in one spot over a long period of time is the long-term relationships that develop, which in life’s low places turns into a strong support system.  For thirty years, Honey and I built relationships at FBC Nashville and wow, did they come out of the woodwork to reciprocate ministry to us!  Here are some of what they did - and I only mention these to share ideas of what you may want to do when ministering to someone in need:

1. Meal Train – an online schedule where people sign up to take food.  Those people brought food to our house at least twice a week for two years.  The schedule always filled up quickly so those that didn't get on the list brought food anyway.  We had plethora of wonderful food.

2. Some don’t cook, so they brought or sent gift cards by the dozens to nearby restaurants.

3. Get well cards by the by the hundreds literally.  Our mailbox bulged many days with more thantwenty cards and the next day there were that many more.  Recipients of some of Honey’s famed “notes” through the years were delighted to finally have an opportunity to send her one.

4. One lady – who must have been looking in our windows – sent her housecleaner to ours and picked up the tab.  That housecleaner has been added to our house permanent “staff”.

5. Some brought an assortment of note cards, envelops, pens, and a roll of stamps.

6. Decorating our house for Christmas – Honey’s favorite season.  She typically spent at least a week after Thanksgiving “trimming the hearth and setting the table.”  But she didn’t have the strength to do it.  This was a huge gift to her and us.

7. Knowing we love hymns, several came over a few nights after dinner to play the piano and sing for us.

8. Flowers galore and somehow they seemed to show up at just the right time.

9. Offer of babysitting all day and off-site when the grandkids were here and Honey needed some quiet.

What an array of thoughtful, creative support! 

Many people don’t know much about their neighbors.  We know most of ours and love them all.  They looked in on us occasionally, brought something, called to see if we needed anything from town, always offering to do anything for us and meaning it.  After Honey died, they pooled their money to fund placing a tree in my yard in her memory, and they continue to check in with me.

As Weslee said on this website video, the Facebook group extended beyond our wildest dream.  More than 600 people near and far monitored it; people we knew and some we didn’t know chimed in with a “like” or a comment of encouragement that meant so very much.  Teenagers I had in youth choirs forty years ago all of a sudden re-surfaced and we were able to catch up.  How cool is that!

Our unbelievable support system, our Herd, went the distance with us in word, in deed, and in prayer. It made all the difference in the world.  They certainly lived out this not-so-old hymn:

We are travelers on a journey, fellow pilgrims on the road; 
we are here to help each other walk the mile and bear the load. 
I will hold the Christ-light for you in the nighttime of your fear; 
I will hold my hand out to you, speak the peace you long to hear.

Sister, let me be your servant, let me be as Christ to you;
pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant, too.
Brother, let me be your servant, let me be as Christ to you;
pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant, too.

I will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh, I’ll laugh with you;
I will share your joy and sorrow, till we’ve seen this journey through.
When we sing to God in heaven, we shall find such harmony,
Born of all we’ve known together of Christ’s love and agony. 

“We Are Travelers on a Journey” – Richard Gillard, 1974 © Scripture In Song/Maranatha! Music

- Mark

Lessons of Life Learned from Susie Edwards

One of the things I love most about being a physician is the constant learning that is required - new information about medical advances always available to absorb. Not so evident at the beginning of my career, but which I have come to appreciate over the years, was how much I would learn about life from my various patients. Susie Edwards, in particular, was one of those patients. 

I could tell that Susie was always one of those "see the glass half-full" kind of people, but I also think that her positive outlook on life did not come without work. No matter what she faced, she absorbed the information and would proceed to form that characteristically resolute look on her face that said "I am going to fight". After living with diabetes for many years prior to cancer, she had learned that the details matter and because of that background she always approached her healthcare with a meticulous tenacity. She was always hopeful, always working, and always searching and seeking answers. However, undergirding this constant attention of her care, she carried with her a foundation of peace that was not dictated by the situation's outcome. I believe this peace came from her deep relationship with Christ. In her last visit to my office, we talked about her assurance that she would have eternal life - a conversation that I will always treasure. I have no doubts that although Susie's body succumbed to cancer, her condition moved her to live an even better and more positive life than she already did. That was the first lesson I learned from Susie: ATTITUDE MATTERS. We must always remain hopeful, do the work, pay attention to detail, but live with the realization that we already have victory in Jesus Christ. 

No matter how Susie felt, she always showed an interest in everyone that she encountered. She always asked my nurses and staff about their lives and families and how their day was going. Everyone was left with a positive feeling after interacting with her. Despite her illness, she continued her habit of regularly writing notes to encourage people, including my 92 year old mother-in-law who resided in a nursing home. Lesson two from Susie: PEOPLE MATTER - so show an interest in people, care about people, and encourage them. 

The final lesson included Mark. The Saturday morning, February 14, that Susie, Mark, and I sat together in their home to discuss hospice, left a profound impression on me. As I sat there watching Mark attend to her every need at this strange intersection of love and grief, I thought about how Christ loves us. He sees us as his bride, his cherished treasure. Even though we may question why we have to endure trials, Christ keeps His promise to "never leave us or forsake us" and to walk beside us "till death do us part", just as Mark did with Susie. The difference is that Christ will be waiting for use with the gift of eternal life and glory. The final lesson: GOD LOVES US so much that He sent Jesus, His Son, to die for us and the Holy Spirit to guide and comfort us through our journey, no matter how treacherous. 

Susie may have lost her battle with the enemy called cancer, but she won the war and received eternal life through her belief in Jesus Christ. Her illness stands as a reminder of the inadequacies of modern medicine, but her life reminds me that we have "The Great Physician" helping us fight until we win "the crown of life and glory."

The Great Physician Now Is Near

The great Physician now is near,
The sympathizing Jesus;
He speaks the drooping heart to cheer,
Oh! hear the voice of Jesus. 

All glory to the dying Lamb!
I now believe in Jesus;
I love the blessed Savior's name, 
I love the name of Jesus. 

His name dispels my guilt and fear, 
No other name but Jesus; 
Oh how my soul delights to hear
The charming name of Jesus.  

And when He comes to bring the crown-
The crown of life and glory-
Then by His side we will sit down
And tell redemption’s story.

Words by William Hunter (1859) and Richard Kempenfelt (1777), Music by John Hart Stockton (1813-1877)

Donna Scudder, MD, 
Nashville, TN
Susie Edwards' Primary Care Physician

How We Made It Through by Mark Edwards: Part One

In a previous post, I mentioned two fellow church musicians who have lost their wives to cancer already this calendar year calling and asking, in essence, how we made it through Honey’s journey and death at the hands of cancer.  I’ve thought about that some, and, in addition to God ever-presence and love, I can identify four things that I’ll describe here and in the next three installments.

The most important thing is simply who Honey was.   She led the way.  She showed us, showed me how to do this.  She was a glass half-full person whereas I’m more the half-empty type.  We took her tack and it definitely was the right one.

My favorite uncle, an articulate and almost poetic preacher, used to say, “the older we get, the more like ourselves we become.” Though not obsessed or embarrassed about it, Honey never forgot nor took lightly the unmistakable hand of God in her life that began with a birth mother who chose adoption over abortion.  She never forgot to be grateful for her wonderful adoptive parents – who also adopted two others – and the charmed life she enjoyed for 61 years.  Her last two years were hard but not horrible, because as Uncle Glen would have said, “the older she got, the more like herself she became.”  She was grateful and joyful at having been “chosen” and blessed when her life could have turned out much differently. 

There was no pretense about Honey.  She was who she was and she was the same with everyone.  In a room full of smart people or the illiterate, rich or poor, with people who looked like us or otherwise, she treated all the same and typically gravitated to the seemingly “least of these.”  I observed this so many times in countless medical settings during her illness.  That’s just the way she was, she was joyful about it, and we all loved her for it. 

She could adjust to nearly any situation, have a good attitude about it (usually), and make the very best of it.  She was one of the most adaptable people I have ever known.  Although she was highly organized and had her usual, basic daily routine fairly well set, she didn’t mind altering it if necessary.  I suspect that was because she was unselfish to a fault, always considering the needs and well-being of others first. 

As I said earlier, Honey was not the out-front-type person.  She didn’t “command the room” but she sure could light up any room with her smile. Behind the scene, in the background and deep inside, she was a gentle and loving steel magnolia.  In the midst of life’s biggest challenge, life’s lowest place she became more and more like herself and it rubbed off on everyone around her.  (If she were reading this right now, she would look at me, frown in disbelief, and say “WHAT?”)

In our nearly 45 years of marriage, I was pretty much the leader of our family and she was good with that.  But in her illness, she stepped up – no, actually she became just more and more like herself – and we all were good with that.  The journey was easier because she was shining the light on the winding path and up the steep hill.

It makes one wonder how our becoming more and more like ourselves will serve us and those around us as we march toward the end of the road.  Hmm!

Here’s a wonderful Celebrating Grace Hymnal hymn (#678 – set to a fresh David Schwoebel tune) to which Honey “subscribed.”

Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy,

whose trust, ever childlike, no cares could destroy:

be there at our waking and give us, we pray,

Your bliss in our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day.

Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith,

whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe:

be there at our labors and give us, we pray,

Your strength in our hearts, Lord, at the noon of the day.

Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace,

Your hands swift to welcome, Your arms to embrace:

be there at our homing and give us we pray,

Your love in our hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day.

Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm,

whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm:

be there at our sleeping and give us, we pray,

Your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.

               “Lord of All Hopefulness” – Jan Struther, 1931 (Oxford University Press)

 - Mark

Familarity Makes Sense of the Scary: David Schwoebel on Notes from Susie

David Schwoebel, Minister of Music and Composer

Most of us are unique creatures of habit - same favorite morning drink to get us going, preferred piece of exercise equipment at the gym, consistent taste buds and regular eating schedules, etc. The sense of routine both grounds us and gives comforting stability to our chaotic lives. At times, life’s consistent, mindless patterns can cause us to do things by rote without a deepening thought of why we do them or what we can truly gain from them. Thoughtless routine can also apply to our hymn singing.

Those who have sung the hymns of our faith for many years have indeed enriched their Christian walk in a grand way! The routine of singing hymns shapes and centers us in our core beliefs. However, most of us could confess to being distracted, at least once, to absentmindedly bellowing out a tune without a true, intelligent connection to the rich, sustaining text being sung. When life’s significant challenges enter our lives we yearn to return to the comfortable, familiar routine and dig even deeper in our faith experiences. Familiarity helps us make sense of scary, unknown concerns. In those sullen, dark moments, hymns of our faith offer us a refreshing perspective and much needed encouragement. An inspired, insightful text, riding on a beloved melody, can sharpen our awareness of the rich theology and profound thoughts we have sung all our lives. Susie and Mark Edwards found these things to be true. 

With their intense love for and knowledge of hymnody, and a totally open ministry spirit, Mark and Susie provided my family, along with the Derbyshire Chancel Choir, a “ringside seat” to their daily walk during Susie’s illness. The old and new hymn texts they chose to close their daily postings were wonderfully poignant and most revealing of their faithful pilgrimage. Many days, without its companion tune attached, the texts shared were viewed from a completely different angle than all the years of singing ever provided. To this day, those groundbreaking realizations re-enter our minds when we sing those hymns. I believe such refreshing revelations are one of the many hallmark artistic beauties and true strengths of God-inspired hymnody. The Christian’s song is never irrelevant and continually offers an enriching experience to each who will routinely mine its deep riches!  

David Schwoebel
Minister of Music and Composer in Residence
Derbyshire Baptist Church, Richmond, VA

Susie Edwards: Remembered by long-time friend Myrte Veach

So many positive, quiet, happy, and inspiring words come to mind when I think of Susie Edwards. We mainly know her today as Honey Edwards. However, I knew her first as a beautiful baby girl. I was a young teenager in a small dusty town in South Texas, way south - halfway between Corpus Christi on the Gulf Coast and Laredo on the Mexican border - by the name of Premont, when Barbara and Grady West added a beautiful baby daughter to their family.

They named her Barbara Sue West. She was welcomed by brothers Abner and Randy. Within a few days, she was joined by new sister Brownie Lynn. Susie didn’t know it at the time, but she had just joined a remarkable family of faith. A family that lived their faith with joyful appreciation - especially for two wonderful baby girls!

Susie’s parents were stalwart members of the Baptist Church, as well as respected leaders in every community in which they lived. She would observe, as she grew up, a demonstration of a practical, active faith that guided the actions and decisions of her family. Susie had the determination of her mother, the gentleness of her father, the compassion of her grandmother, the tenacity of her uncle, and the joyful attitude of her aunt. Her grandmother, Mama Thompson, was her safe place and compassionate encourager. Susie’s Aunt Ruthie and Uncle Brown demonstrated a loving spiritual guidance that did not require words or sermons.

It is so appropriate that Susie and Mark met at the First Baptist Church in Kerrville TX. And, as they say, the rest is history. Mark quickly observed that Susie was part of a foundation of faith in God that permeated her family. He also observed that faith was as personal and important to Susie as it was to her family.

I was thrilled when Mark and Susie moved to Tennessee and only a few blocks from my home. Susie’s heritage of a strong, active faith guided her own development as she and Mark traveled the Edward’s family journey of faith with Weslee [their daughter] and Nathan [their son] and their families.

My life has been influenced heavily by the West family. It is a privilege to consider myself a part of this families’ faith journey. I was blessed to walk with Mark and Susie through Honey’s cancer battle. Honey battled cancer with a steadfastness that exceeded her body’s capacity to beat the dreaded disease. I’m grateful that Honey’s foundational faith journey gave her the capacity to live and die with an unwavering faith in God.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow…
Myrte Veach,
long-time friend of Susie Edwards

Not to Sing, but to Say and Live

The Alleluias were plenteous Sunday – Easter and the first anniversary of Honey’s memorial service.  It seemed as though every other phrase was punctuated with a joyous “Alleluia” and rightly so.  Congregations at both Easter services I attended began by singing “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.”  Toward the end of the third stanza of that hymn is the phrase “where’s thy victory, O grave?” It has appeared that way in every hymnal from which I have sung and led all my life.  But the Methodist Hymnal version is “where’s thy victory, boasting grave?”  I like that – an extra hint of resurrection trash talk!  And choirs in both churches ended the service singing the “Hallelujah Chorus.”  I could hardly contain myself when the Sanctuary Choir at First Baptist Church, Nashville sang it.  Wow – that majestic room, those wonderful singers, that magnificent organ!  Admittedly, the fact that I directed that choir thirty Easters in a row had something to do with how I heard it Sunday.

Christ is risen! 
He is risen, indeed! 
Alleluia!

In the past couple months, I have received calls from two other ministers of music whose wives have also died of cancer – Greg’s wife Gail died January 6 and Larry’s Sandy only a month ago.  With both I have been able to say with surety that I do know what they are going through.  Both asked some form of the same question – “how did you do it?”  Still stumbling around for answers, neither conversation went far until I mentioned to each the sustaining power that hymns provided for our journey during Honey’s illness and for me since her death about this time last year.  I had to admit to learning that knowing a hymn or being able to sing or lead it was not the same thing as living it, or better said, living into it. For too many of us, hymns have become so familiar that we don’t “hear” them anymore. But through Honey’s illness/death, the experience helping build a hymnal, and the undeniable grace of God, hymns have ministered to me as never before and I am grateful.  I pointed Greg and Larry to some of my favorites:

Great Is Thy Faithfulness
Sometimes a Light Surprises
All the Way My Savior Leads Me
Like a Mother with Her Children
O Worship the King
We Walk by Faith
Like a River Glorious
How Lovely, God, How Lovely
Sing Praise to God Who Reigns Above
If You Will Only Let God Guide You
How Can I Keep from Singing
In Deepest Night

Spending time in a good hymnal is not unlike discovering a new Book of Psalms (the Hebrew hymnal). Hymns, like the psalms, have multi-stanzas, speak the many moods of Christian life, and are strong enough to be studied.  For almost a decade I have enjoyed memorizing hymns, not to sing, but to say and live.  I have discovered that in saying them, new riches reveal themselves in lines sung mostly mindlessly through the years.  They become good food for the soul and balm for the aching heart. 

If you have a hymnal I encourage you to spend some focused time in it.  If you don’t have hymnal or need a fresh version, I certainly recommend the Celebrating Grace Hymnal – www.celebrating-grace.com.   It has been interesting to see people order a Hymnal when they order a copy of the Notes From Susie book.  Most of the hymns quoted in the latter are included in the former.  Many of those hymns were in the “God, the Sustainer” section of the Hymnal, where Honey and I camped a good bit during our two-year journey.

Here is one of those stanzas I sang past countless times –

“Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite?

It breathes in the air, it shines in the light,

   it streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,

 and sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.” 

                        O Worship the King – Robert Grant, 1833

The mental image of God’s bountiful care washing over all His creation and individually over me calls forth yet another “Alleluia!”

Mark

P.S. You could never convince me that it was coincidental that Larry and I ran into one another at breakfast at a Collierville hotel the Sunday morning after Christmas 2015.  I hadn’t seen him in nearly ten years. 

Hymns as a Source of Strength: Ken Medema on Notes from Susie

As I read this book, I was amazed over and over again. I have known Mark and Susie for quite some time now, but what I could not have known is the depth and intensity of their faith through this wilderness journey. Surrounded by friends and family and walking on the sure foundation of their faith in God, they moved through this frightening darkness with breath-taking strength and grace. I have never seen such a strong proof that the hymn can be a means of conveying God’s presence and Grace. 

I suppose there were more hymns quoted in this book than in any other I have read, and every one is a source of strength, an expression of praise, and a comment on what is going on at the moment.  Thank you Mark, Susie, your family and friends for taking all of us on this trip a step-by-step, week-by-week journey from life to death to life, all of it expressed in those wonderful hymn texts whose power we can hardly overstate. 

Because people are not the same, they will not deal in the same way with these life and death events and journeys, but let there be faith in God’s on-going presence and care and the road we walk will lead us beside still waters, through green pastures, and into the house of God forever. Let there always be great hymns to help us speak both God’s presence and our response.

- Ken Medema,
Acclaimed composer and sacred concert artist

Memory is a Good Thing: One Year Later

Unbelievably, it was a year ago today that Honey died. Phone calls, emails, and texts have been received all day and are certainly appreciated. I think about her and miss her off and on every day.  Every morning when the outside temperature cooperates, I go in the guest room that became her sick room remembering her last days in there, to open the shades and brighten the room like unto her.  Even that near daily liturgy is not unduly sad for me but rather another occasion to remember, celebrate, and give thanks for who Honey was and for the gift that was mine those almost-forty-five years.  Memory is a good thing, you know, and I hope to never lose that part of my memory.

On this first anniversary of Honey’s death some things are springing to life related to the release of our book – Notes From Susie: Choosing Gratitude in Life’s Low Places.  Our new website (www.NotesFromSusie.com) goes live today and includes:

• this blog
• a video that tells the story of the book featuring Weslee, Nathan, and me
• links to a new Facebook and Twitter page for the book
• a few excerpts from the book
• information about the book's release and book signings
• a link to pre-order the book

(All this would be more than amusing to Honey you understand.)

Also, plans continue at YouthCue, Inc., and Celebrating Grace, Inc., for the Susie Edwards Memorial Concert, May 21, 6:00 PM at First Baptist Church, Nashville, TN.  This is a free concert that will benefit the Children’s Freedom Choir in south Nashville.  A large choir composed of area churches and friends of our family will sing some fine music accompanied by full orchestra and conducted by my brother Randy (who initiated this event all on his own) for choir singers is necessary and still open.  Our long-time friends Ragan Courtney and Cynthia Clawson are featured guests.  I am, reportedly, going to sign books so I’m already practicing my signature.

Perhaps not so coincidentally, today is also Maundy Thursday– a commemoration of Jesus’ washing the disciples’ feet, His institution of communion at the supper in the upper room, the garden of Gethsemane experience, and Judas’ betrayal.  After the betrayal, Jesus gave His disciples a new commandment, a mandatum (Latin) from which we get the word “Maundy” – “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.  Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” (John13:34)  Honey not only knew that commandment, she almost personified it.  She naturally loved and valued everyone.

A couple days ago I ran across a solo arrangement of an old hymn I wrote and played for Cynthia Clawson to sing in our church more than twenty years ago.  Re-purposed in a haunting minor key (Cynthia’s good idea) seemed to be a fitting improvement over the original, bringing fresh light to the lyric:

Christ, the transforming light touches this heart of mine,

   piercing the darkest night, making His glory shine.

Refrain

Oh, to reflect His grace, causing the world to see

  love that will glow till others shall know

  Jesus revealed in me.

Here, Lord, I bring my heart, my love, my strength, my will;

  cleanse me in every part with all Thy Spirit fill.

Triumphant peace is mine, now Jesus lives within;

  He giveth joy divine and victory over sin.

Oh, to reflect His grace, causing the world to see

  love that will glow till others shall know

  Jesus revealed in me.

                        “Jesus, Revealed in Me” –  words Gipsy Smith

Honey loved for me to play and “sing at” that arrangement.  Because she was a keeper of Jesus’ new commandment, she was a reflector of His grace and “glower” of His love to the point that others saw Jesus revealed in her…even yet.  Good job, Honey!

Yep, memory is a good thing!

Mark