Saying Goodbye to My Friend Ashley

Last week one of my dear friends went home to be with the Lord. Her name is Ashley Hofele, and here is her obituary:

Ashley Elizabeth Wilson Hofele

Ashley was a most amazing friend and human being. My husband had known Jesse for some years, but we didn't know much about his new wife. I had only spoken to her a few times before I attended a party at her home. I liked her right away. Later that night, after the party, my Mother died unexpectedly. As soon as Ashley heard, she called me to see what I needed. I had to travel out of state to help my Father with arrangements. I asked Ashley if she would look in on my husband Jon who had to take a quick leave from work and stay home with our children, who had just turned 3 and 5. She called several women from church and arranged for meals to be brought to him while I was gone. She even called Jon while I was gone to see if she could help in any other way.

In addition to losing my Mother suddenly, my aunt was dying of cancer. Ashley was concerned for me, and checked in on me often. It was the lowest time in my life. She would send inspiring poems or songs through email, or call to see if I needed to talk. She would offer to watch my children when I needed to visit my aunt. We seemed to be instant friends and grew closer and closer over the next year. Ashley gave me a lot of support, strength and comfort when I really needed it. I knew that Ashley did not have a lot of life experience, but when it came to compassion, she really seemed wise beyond her years.

Ashley had a quick and gorgeous smile, an easy laugh, and I enjoyed her immensely. We began a Bible study together and discussed serious issues related to ambassadorship, life, death, and illness. I always said Ashley was a 'Berean.' In the Bible, it was the Bereans that searched the scriptures to find answers to life's questions. Ashley certainly had a lot of questions, and she had a real reverence for the Word of God. If she was struggling with an issue, we studied it out in scripture. If the Bible proclaimed it, then it was settled for her.

Ashley had such a mature attitude about having Lupus, a chronic illness, and said that she had come to accept that she had to approach life differently now. Ashley had a wonderful understanding of her position in Christ and knew that by suffering in dignity she was honoring her savior. I knew that Ashley was suffering, but it wasn't because she complained. I tried to get her to slow down, but she was determined to do what her heart lead her to do...she had a heart for service and love of God that I often admired.

Ashley always spoke highly of her husband and family. She didn't like it when people complained or spoke negatively about the people they loved. She was completely devoted to Joshua. To this day, I cannot figure out how she got so much done and still managed to stay connected to her friends and family on a regular basis! I thought of Ashley like a sister. I can only pray that she really knew how much I respected and cared for her. I still love her!

I wonder if people will think I am exaggerating about what a wonderful person Ashley is now that she is gone? On my kids birthdays this year, she really went out of her way to get them something they would enjoy. And Reese made it hard on her. He wanted a toy fork lift. But she found the perfect gifts and I could really tell my kids appreciated her kindness and felt special when she and Joshua brought them over. Reese actually sleeps with his forklift. Aubrey got an Ariel doll, which of course she sleeps with too, and the Ariel 2 movie. We watched the movie today, and it explains how Ariel's Mother died, and then the King forgot happiness. But the persistent love of his friends and daughter helped him find happiness again. I had no idea this was the story. I wept. Right now, all things will remind me of this loss. As if I need any reminders.

I often encouraged Ashley to take better care of herself. “Get more rest!” I would urge. But nothing could stop her. She had absolutely the most energy of anyone I knew, especially someone with a chronic illness and undergoing immunosuppressive treatment. Ashley often had insomnia, something we had in common. I would be up late, surfing the net, when an instant message would pop up from Ash. “What are you doing up?” I would ask. “Go to bed!” “Oh, you’re one to talk.” She would respond. “Want to take a walk at the reserve tomorrow?” I am missing those requests already. That fabulous “Hiiiiii” greeting on the telephone each day.

What am I going to do without her? If it weren’t for God, I don’t know how I could bear it. Every time I think about her, I feel like I can barely breathe. I think of her devoted husband, her darling son. The unfairness of this life. I think about our last conversation. Just a couple days before she left us. I was on my way out of town to a homeschool convention. Laughing and making plans to meet at her Mom’s new house the next week. Two calls actually…sometimes she would “remember” why she called the first time and call back because we talked so much she had forgotten what it was. I’m going to miss her so much!

Sometimes Ashley would get emotional, but even when her feelings were hurt or she felt offended, she was eager to forgive, and make peace. She wanted to think the best of people. Ashley didn't put up with a lot of nonsense, yet she could be as soft and fragile and as easily bruised as a rose blossom. I’d always tell her “you’re a great person, don’t worry about the little things people say, they don’t know any better anyway.” She’d say “OK. I’ll just pray for them.” Wow! Like her Bible study, Ashley used prayer to grow in her relationship with God and with others, and it showed. She was hungry for growth and it came.

But then Ashley knew that she had something very special: eternal life. Ashley had trusted Jesus Christ for her eternal salvation and she wanted to walk worthy of her gift and share it with everyone who would listen. It is my prayer that her son will grow up and serve our savior, just as his Mother did. In my opinion, Ashley did an amazing thing, something many of us hope to do, but often fall short: she left her world better than she found it.

No April Foolin'

The other day my daughter and I were reading one of her story books about opposites: over and under, off and on, and this sort of thing. Then we get to the page where there are four clowns. She points to the tall one and says “That’s Daddy.”
“That’s nice.” I reply.
Then she points to the short one and says “That’s me.”
“Which one am I?” I ask. Then she points to the fat one. (I guess its not PC to say 'fat' anymore...the 'larger' one?)

Well, how about that? This child whom I adore, who I sacrificed health, independence and sometimes sanity for, has struck a blow deep into my core. So I look at her lovingly and move on to the next page.

Anyone who says that you have children to complete yourself, or fill a void, really doesn’t understand parenthood at all. Children are painfully candid and innocently honest. Someone without a strong sense of themselves might find themselves unnecessarily wounded by statements like, “Mommy, why do you have a mustache?” or “Did they have trees when you were little back in the olden days?”

Having children is the single event most challenging to our egos. Anyone who has them knows. And they will tell anything to anyone at anytime, mostly at the wrong time. Like when my friend’s son, who I had referred to as my “best friend”, said “Mom, I thought you said Lisa was your best friend?” Ouch. Well, my parents never said life was easy. I didn’t realize they were speaking out of the new wisdom that came with parenthood (I had probably just exposed something they said just before this revelation).

Well, we keep telling them that honesty is the best policy. And they are a frank reminder that those little white lies serve an important purpose. Life is full of embarrassment, especially at the hand of our children. But it’s all worth it. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Honest.

Please stop bringing up the "s" word!

As a homeschooling family, one word that people constantly bring up to us is “socialization.” As if the fact that we are educating our children means that we are completely out of contact with civilization, while in fact most home school families I know have lives rich with outside activities. I actually had one friend who used the example of a home schooled child she knew who was a tattle tale. This was comical to me. Apparently, prior to homeschooling, telling on other children simply didn’t exist, and so any character flaw that a child displays is immediately ascribed to the fact they are home schooled. I guess children in government school don’t have any flaws. In my observation, all children seem to have innate character differences right from birth. Some children seem shy, some outgoing, some children are clingy, and some are independent. The fact that children are individual with differing personalities (and flaws) doesn’t even come to mind when people are trying to convince me that my children will have poor social abilities if I educate them myself.

I have a completely different take on what positive social skills look like. In fact, I find that our children have improved social opportunities. One difference that I see in public schools is that children who are different from the majority are ridiculed for their individuality. Bullying is back on the upswing. If you are a shy person by nature, you better change, or expect to be cast out for the balance of your school years. Another big difference is the ability to socialize with different ages groups. Public school kids are grouped by age and those groupings encourage kids to avoid other children, especially younger ones. In my home schooling circles, the older kids nurture and look out after the younger ones. They don’t say “ooh, yuck, don’t play with the little kids!” like you see on the public school playground. Also, because my children are always with me or another adult (in public school children have sizable blocks of unsupervised time where they are being negatively socialized by other kids), I have not had to drill “stranger danger” into them. When we are out in public, my son, who tends to be shy by nature, is friendly to everyone he sees. He is careful with younger children in the nursery at church. He is not afraid of older children on the playground.

An ironic side to the argument people make about me needing public school to properly socialize my kids, is that these same parents chronicle for me the list of issues the school is currently dealing with regarding, teen pregnancy, drug use, and violence. They tell me how their child learned their first dirty word in Kindergarten from one of the older kids, and then try to convince me I need the school system to properly socialize my children? In truth, the social reality defined by the culture of our schools is in conflict with our Christian values. Negative peer pressure surrounding materialism (designer clothes and cell phones at age 7), and the complete intolerance of anyone who is different are in direct conflict with those values. The school itself perpetuates those values. I mean, the one-size-fits-all curriculum itself is designed to work for the people who fall in the middle. If you are stronger or weaker, you will stand out, and you may fail if you don’t conform. I understand there is no other way for schools to address the issue, there is one teacher and 30 kids and they have designed a program that works for most.

The other socialization case people make for public schools is the idea that they are not being prepared for the real world. Another concept I find entertaining, unless of course the real world is run like “The Lord of the Flies.” The one thing I remember most about entering the work force is how completely different it was from my school years. All of my peers were different ages and backgrounds. There was no bullying, name calling or making fun of the top performers. We treated each other with respect, and individuality was equated with creativity and therefore encouraged. We also never snuck away to use drugs or drink on the job or hide in the bathroom to perform sexual acts on each other. We did not disrespect the boss and there was no peer pressure to do the wrong thing (“come on, try it!”), but there was a lot of pressure to be honest, work hard, and get along with others. A very similar environment to my classroom at home, and the interactions we have with other homeschooling families.

So if you are concerned about socialization as an issue for my children when I chose to home school, rest assured, so was I. And please, stop saying the “s” word around my children.

To The Invisible Moms

I received this essay in an email and I liked it so much I decided to post it here in my blog:

Invisible Mother......

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The Invisible Mom, that's me. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands....I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work.....No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of GOD saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because GOD sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. I became aware of GOD's whisper to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know. Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does. We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our perseverance and dependence upon GOD's written word.