Hannah's Healing Hannah Joy's ultimate healing was accomplished late Monday night (October 26) as she was transferred from the loving arms of her parents to the arms of her Savior after a seven month battle with cancer. She was born on July 29, 1996 and completed her race here on earth with grace and brought much joy to those who knew her. With her contagious smile and bubbly personality she won the hearts of everyone she met. Her constant desire to pray was an inspiration and challenge to all of us. Our family would like to thankful of those who made her journey easier--especially all of those who prayed so faithfully for her. Your prayers have been answered and she is completely well--for all of eternity! Hannah is survived by her parents Larry and Starla, and her two brothers, Luke and Cliff. We celebrate her life and promotion to glory--not saying good-bye, but "See you in the morning, Sweetheart!" To God be the glory!

Higher Ground By Alyssa Emerson He wraps His holy arms around me, Tears of joy run down my cheeks. He hugs me tight, lifts my head. He dried my tears then said, "Let me take you to higher ground."

Thank you FHE for the moments of encouragement and your sincere prayers throughout these past several months. Not knowing how else to express our thanks, I would like to share the following article written by my (Starla's) sister. It means a lot to us--hopefully, it will to you: Life and Death Life and death... they have a way of bringing the rest of life into focus. When it comes right down to it, when you scrape away the trivia, the surface stuff, the mesh and grind of daily life, the petty problems in which we find ourselves, you will find that all that is left, all that really matters is... life and death. With the one there is everything...breath and hope and love and all the positive potential that God has to offer. With the other there is nothing worth having--only pain, non-existence, and more pain--everything which life is not. And the interesting thing is that we do not see this, we do not fully understand what life and death is all about... until we are faced with it. Until it looms before us and we are forced to come to terms with ourselves, with others, and with God. Suddenly, we see things in a different light. Things that we only knew as fact before now become something tangible, something we have to decide, something that turns the lenses on our life's camera and not only brings things into focus, but gives us a close-up look. What happens when life and death appear? Does the rest of life disappear and every other problem resolve itself? No, they are still there. But suddenly those things which seemed to loom so big in our life, that seemed the size of mountains, that were using all of our energies, distorting our priorities, and even at times making us impossible to live with, are now educed to a miniscule size, even ridiculously so. Oh reader, who cares (so to speak) if my nap was interrupted by a phone call, my neighbor plays his music too loud, my daughter's skirt is one inch too short, my mother-in-law doesn't like how I rear my children, my pride is hurt because my opinion is rejected, my child's paper is unfairly graded, my brother prays too long, my toddler's toys are all over the house, the floor is dirty, school doesn't happen today (italics by Starla), or this or that person has a strange, irritating way about them? These things shrink to a minimal size when placed beside of the issues of... life and death. Sure, a few of them may, at the time they're happen-ing, deserve to be called legitimate problems. But in comparison, they are nothing. Nothing, do you hear me? Have you ever complained about the painful little hangnail, and suddenly found yourself in the presence of someone who is daily fighting a painful cancer? Have you ever impatiently blown your horn at the slow driver in front of you and then found yourself coming upon the scene of a fatal car wreck? Have you ever fussed at your child for making too much noise, and then discovered their chances of surviving the rest of the year are slim? Have you? If you have, you will understand what I am saying. You will realize with a sudden shame that your priorities have been off-balance, your values have been misplaced, your time has been misused, and your love has been misdirected. Surely God had a similar thought in mind when he asked, "What does it profit a man if he should gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" Of what importance are things like getting our own way, defending our pride, not having our plans upset and our opinion criticized when, in the end, we do not even have a certain loved one in our life to enjoy, and with which to share life? May God enlighten our minds and enlarge our hearts to finally see what is truly important, to show love while there is life, to "take time to smell the flowers..." to let the issues of life and death bring our own life into focus. -RN 4/98 Thank you again, Larry & Starla

A Poem for God's Children I'll lend you for a little time, a child of mine, He said. For you to love while he lives, and mourn when he is dead. It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three. But will you, till I call him back, take care of him for me? He'll bring his charms to gladden you, and shall his stay be brief, You'll have his lovely memories as solace for your grief. I cannot promise he will stay, since all from earth return, But there are lessons taught down there I want this child to learn. I've looked the wide world over in my search for teachers true And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes, I have selected you. Now will you give him all your love, nor think the labor vain, Nor hate me when I come to call, to take him back again? I fancied that I heard them say, Dear Lord, thy will be done. For all the joy thy child shall bring, the risk of grief we'll run. We'll shelter him with tenderness, we'll love him while we may; And for the happiness we've known, will ever grateful stay. But shall the angels call for him much sooner than we planned, We'll brave the bitter grief that comes, and try to understand. Edgar A. Guest (Contributed by Kathy Meyer in memory of Hannah)