Beyond Bringing Up Boys

January 12, 2009 So many thoughts flood my mind this morning as I try to authentically portray the life of a man – a man who let me call him Pa. Perhaps the best way to characterize my father is to tell you that when I made phone calls on Thursday to tell people about Dad’s passing, several grown men and ladies began sobbing when they heard the news. If Dad had heard them, he probably would have cried too, because he had a heart for people, and he could feel their sorrow. After Dad passed, a dear friend asked me what I would like if I could have anything that had belonged to Dad. At the moment I couldn’t think of anything, so I said, “How about his BMW?” But now I know the true answer: what I most want is what my father has already given to me. First, he gave me a treasure house of wonderful memories. Dad loved to travel, and some of my earliest memories are of his taking us to Scottsbluff National Monument or to a local auditorium where we would watch travelogue presentations ho...

We returned home to a warm house this morning about 1 AM, thanks to our neighbors who came over and turned our heat up. But after a trip that included temperatures of -29 degrees below zero (NOT wind chill) our house temp of 49 degrees may have even felt toasty! Coming back to Atlanta was bittersweet...good to be at home and yet we brought along a hollow sadness and a void in our hearts that will never be replaced. I found this poem in David's paternal grandmother's Bible this morning and it brought a ray of sunshine to my heart. Don't think of him as gone away His journey's just begun Life holds so many facets This earth is only one Just this of him as resting From the sorrows and the tears In a place of warmth and comfort Where there are no days or years Think of how he must be wishing That we could know today How nothing but our sadness Can really pass away And think of him as living In the hearts of those he touched Fro nothing loved is ever lost And he was loved so...

Donald Eugene Balty was carefully transferred from the loving hands of his family into the arms of his Heavenly Father at 10 a.m. on Jan. 8, 2009, at his home in Milan. He was 71 years old. The Balty family invites friends and family to visitation at Wheelan-Pressly Funeral Home, 3030 7th Ave., Rock Island, on Sunday, Jan. 11, from 2 to 5 p.m. The funeral will be Monday, Jan. 12, at 11 a.m., at the funeral home. Memorials may be made to Gideon's International. He was born in Nyssa, Ore., on May 24, 1937, the only child of the Rev. Raymond and Amie Bender Balty. Donald made Jesus Christ his Lord and Savior at the age of 15. Donald fell in love with Glenda Garton as they returned to Kansas with their parents from the first conference of the Bible Missionary Church in Denver, Colo., in 1956. They became engaged three months later and married on April 19, 1957. He is survived by Glenda, his wife of 51 years; and three children, Tim (and Carolyn), Fairbanks, Alaska, Lisa (and Charles) C...

Don's vessel made it safely into heaven's port this AM at about 10:00 Central time. Thank you all for your love and support, but especially for your prayers during this very difficult time.

I've never been on a cruise ship, nor have I longed to, by the way, but I am certain that before the vessel leaves the port, there surely must be a series of processes that are completed to allow the vessel to move toward it's destination. So it's been at the Balty's home this week. Don's earthly vessel is on the very brink of departure for his heavenly home. But as David has reminded us: On this side, we say, "There he goes.", but on the other they are saying, "Here he comes!"

My blogging voice has been silent. In part, due to being extremely busy but also in part, due to the sadness that seems to hover. David received word this morning from his mom that his father's condition has rapidly declined and we are leaving within moments for the Quad Cities. It is with deep, deep sadness that we approach what we knew--that outside miraculous intervention--Don's life would succumb to leukemia. With Christmas music playing softly in his hospital room, I'll never forget a conversation between him and me. He was lamenting that he wasn't really in the "Christmas spirit." I told him that I certainly didn't feel like celebrating either, but that just a few days before as I was listening to the song, My Redeemer Lives I heard a still small voice whisper that it is only in death that we can really celebrate life. We wept together. Perhaps, even today, David's sweet dad will arrive safely Home and the his Celebration will begin.

The first Sunday after Easter this spring, we decided to attend the services of a church just a couple of miles from our house. The congregation had outgrown 3 previous "sanctuaries," the first being a mobile home, and were worshiping in the gymnasium, while anticipating the completion of their new "house." We were met that sunny Sunday morning by a gracious greeter who offered the directions to the children’s services. We declined. After all, we had been trying to find a church home for almost a year, and after each visit, our boys would beg, "Can we make this our church home?" We were all so relationally hungry. That Sunday was different. Almost from the first moments, we sensed a difference… We had found a spiritual oasis we were searching for. Yesterday was the dedication service our new "House." It is a beautiful building that will house 800, and should allow us to meet in one service for awhile. The balcony is unfinished, but yesterday’s se...