ann kiemel

colson berry anderson
married christina, and took,
as his own, her beautiful, baby daughter.
in a small cove by ocean waves above san
francisco.

brandt, his brother, was best man.
and i held my one grandbaby, colben,
sitting next to my first daughter-in-law,
jasmine.

taylor and brock were proud of both
their younger brothers. speaking love
and commitment to them. i sat, with humble
gratitude at the amazing way God's vast love and
grace have followed us through so many beautiful
AND tumultuous years as a family.

roar, oceans, roar,
shine, glistening sun, shine.
and may rewards come.....and
surprises live....as we toil,
day in and day out of our ordinary lives,
tangled in extraordinary adventures and
struggles.

i'm a softie as a mom.
will believed that almost everything should
be absolute, and i have always held to only a few
absolutes, but many negotiables.
two years ago, colson was home. smart. clever.
a genius as a salesman and a writer, but he wasn't
going anywhere. he announced, one day, that he was
moving back to modesto. another quick decision.

okay, colson.
but you cannot come home when it gets tough.
i spoke with tears in my eyes, and silent prayers of
deep resolve. one evening, he called.

mom, it is pouring rain, and i am
cold and hungry and i have no money. will you
please come and get me?

oh, honey, i'm sorry. i'm just walking into a
prayer class. find a bathroom somewhere, and
get on your knees and pray. tell Jesus what you need.

YOU MEAN YOU ARE NOT GOING TO COME GET ME?!!!
you are going to LEAVE me here like this?!!!

tears running down my face, i calmly said,
yes, darling. it is just you and Jesus out there.
today, he tells a sad story (makes me feel horror and pride)
of being homeless. sleeping on a bench some nights.
it was the most difficult, hands down, task I had EVER taken
on. forcing colson to find his way in this big, hard world.

he went to colorado. via train. for awhile.
back to modesto. a hard worker. had good jobs.
and when anyone peeled back the rough exterior, there
could not be a sweeter, more honest and loving heart than
colson's. he KNEW God. he had a moral conscience. and
he would vulnerably confess things to me. i would chew the
inside of my gums, but be silent while he talked. hugging and
kissing him after, and reminding him that some day, i felt he
would run my ministry of dreams and changing the world
for Jesus.

well, colson perservered. and i did.
i loved and pushed and prayed. hanging onto his shirt
for all my might, but not letting him come home except for
a family get-together or a week-end. and i would cry and cry.
but he could not hear me.
he did not know. God was
helping me make a man out of my son.

so, when april 23 came, and colson, with christina's father's,
and my blessing, married, i threw balloons through the air.
i laughed at the sun. i danced on all the trials and sins and temptations
colson had conquered, and i wrapped my arms around another
beautiful daughter-in-law and a new, grandbaby girl. buying her
ballerina slippers and lots of pink.

and i knew that my son, and i,
and his brothers, understood
better than ever before, that Jesus died and lives and
always, always, always promises
bright, happy tomorrows after the
darkness of hardships.

glorious Savior.
beautiful grace.
the glory of motherhood, and the suffering, too.
believe! believe! believe!
stay on course and watch the lip of the horizon
as it rises and sets, finally, on your dreams.