Hello and welcome! By way of introduction, our thirteen-year old Sarah has a wacky, irrepressible sense of humor and loves art, dogs, music, and writing her own books. She used to be blond and curly-headed but chemo, radiation and a stem cell transplant did away with the old look. Her new look is brunette and her new attitude is, "I have survived and I'm glad to be alive!"

Diagnosed with Stage IV neuroblastoma in May of 2002 when she was six years old, she's been through too much and grown up too fast; however, she still manages to sprinkle each day with her special, custom blend of giggles and joy, compassion and courage.

In July of 2005 she was declared to be in remission; in June of 2006, she relapsed in her adrenal gland, femur, hip and backbone. After three rounds of Accutane, her scans came back clear. She did two additional rounds of Accutane and is now considered to be back in remission.

Whatever lies ahead for our perky princess, we know that she is definitely up for it! She's not only our daughter, she is also our inspiration.

For those of you who may be new to our family, let us give you a brief history. We spent fifteen years traveling full time, doing about 160 concerts in churches every year. Sarah and her brother Nathan, (19) were on the road with us since they were about four weeks old and have been in forty states, Canada and Mexico. For seven of those fifteen years, our family lived year-round in a 45 foot, custom-built two-bedroom R.V. pulled by a Kenworth semi truck. In our fifteen years on the road, we recorded thirteen CD's of original music. When Sarah was diagnosed on May 17, 2002, we left the road so that we could dedicate ourselves to doing everything possible to help her get well. Sarah's dad, Rev. Steve Smith, now pastors First Assembly of God in Smithfield, NC.

Thank you so much for joining our family on this journey!


NOTE: We've been told by a number of people who just recently joined us that they wish they could read journal entries we had written before we started this web page. With those requests in mind, we have opened an "archive site" at Sarah's Spot Archives that includes email updates to friends that go back to the day Sarah was diagnosed. It tells our story up through December when this present site was added.

Sarah's First Video!

Before you watch it, let me just explain that Sarah and her best friend, Victoria, were with Steve and Nathan at a friend's ski lodge and decided to shoot some videos.

This is a pretend newscast called "News at Ten" where they each change their name and then give news and commercials.

The last segment is especially funny because they pretend to be "Hillbilly" newscasters.
Enjoy!



This second video was put together by Gretchen Woody; the first song you'll hear is one that I wrote and sang.










For additional pictures of the Smith Family, go to:
www.picturetrail.com/princessgroovychick

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Journal

Wednesday, November 19

(NOTE: If you have an extra moment, we'd love it if you'd sign the guest book. Also, if you haven't jumped on the bandwagon to tell us three interesting or unusual things about yourself, today's your day!)


A SARAH STORY

Yesterday I promised you a Sarah Story and a Sarah Story you shall have!

Just so you know that I haven't been purposefully tardy with posting it, I sat down last night and diligently spent ninety minutes getting it all written. I was entering it straight into the Caringbridge site and I was within a minute or two of finalizing it and posting it when my finger inadvertently flicked some wrong key and--poof! The whole thing disappeared.

Grrr.

I know, I know. I should write my entries into Word first and then copy and paste them into Caringbridge. I do that a lot of the time but sometimes I just get attacked by a crazy case of the lazies and I don’t want to take the time to go through that whole process.

You see, my computer is incredibly, excruciatingly, mind-numbingly slow and sometimes I cannot bear the thought of waiting five minutes for the computer to boot up and then another six or seven minutes for Word to finally decide to open and (grudgingly) allow me to write the post.

Then I have to wait several more minutes for the online service to wake up and decide to let me go visit Caringbridge. After I get to Caringbridge and enter my information that allows me to enter a new journal entry, I have to minimize Caringbridge and then go back to Word to copy the post to take it back to Caringbridge. This process has been known to take up to 4.5 years and cost me an additional fifteen hairs pulled out of my head every time I go through it.

And since I’m on the subject, I will just go ahead and admit right here and right now that I am one of those strange and wacky people (and I know there are others of you out there) who actually TALKS to her computer. I mean, I actually say real words, out loud—to my computer! Is that an early sign of anything?

Here’s how a typical “conversation” will go.

I will click on the Word icon because I want to open a new page and start writing. (Which seems to me like a very simple, non-demanding thing to ask of a computer.)

But the computer does nothing. It says nothing. It just uses its one, large square eye to stare at me in an intimidating, rebellious, and even mildly threatening manner.

I wait. I try to think patient, Christian, and loving thoughts toward my computer.

I wait some more.

The computer continues to glare at me, not moving, not responding, not so much as even acknowledging my presence. It emits no comforting whirrs or beeps—just an ominous silence. Just an ominous absence of any progress whatsoever.

And then I lose it. I can’t help myself. I start talking.

I say, “Look here, Computer. It’s not like I am asking you to cunningly create the coordinates that will help send a man to moon. I am not requiring that you find the square root of any ginormous number. I am not even asking you to compile a spreadsheet, a graph or a Power Point presentation. I am merely requesting that you please just let me open just One. Stinking. Program. (And yes, pastor’s wives ARE allowed to say “stinking,” just in case you were wondering.)

Alas. The Computer continues to focus its bleak, unblinking eye in my direction and from somewhere in its tortoise-esque depths I can hear it taunt, “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah.” And even though you may think I’m giving into extreme paranoia here, I am quite certain that it is also sticking out its computer tongue at me. It wants to let me know that IT is in charge and IT will open the Word program whenever it jolly well FEELS like opening the Word program.

And not a moment sooner.

And so after awhile, my rantings and ravings dribble away into a semblance of silence and I find it prudent to murmur a quick apology to The Computer for my impatience and lack of civility.

Only then does the unblinking eye give way (ever so slowly) to the program I had requested several lifetimes earlier.

Yes, it’s true. The Computer is in charge. I admit it. I will not fight it. I will even vow to try and stop yelling at it although that promise cannot be set in stone because, well, sometimes conversing with The Computer seems to be the only way of preserving what remains of my sanity. (And my hair!)

So anyway, that’s my story of “Real Life True Confessions of Real Life True Computer Conversations.”

Now, let me (finally) get on with the Sarah Story!

The story starts about six weeks ago when Steve and I went for an hour-long walk around our neighborhood. Actually, it was more than just a simple walk, it was a high-powered, high-octane discussion session. The subject being debated? Whether or not we thought the time had come for us to make a change in our lives and ministry and resign from First Assembly.

There were so many pros and cons to discuss, so many complexities to be considered, so many factors to weigh. We walked and talked until the sun disappeared and we had both finally come to the agreement that yes, it was indeed time for us to move.

We wound our way back home to Sarah, Snowy and the lovely rituals of getting ready for bed. After Sarah and I had read a chapter from a book and talked a while, I tucked her in and went on to bed myself. As I lay there, trying to get to sleep, I kept on going over and over in my mind the conversation I’d had with Steve, wondering if we were doing the right thing, contemplating all the ramifications and asking God for some sort of a confirmation that we were on the right track.

Sarah, of course, knew absolutely nothing about what we had been wrestling with. We work very hard at keeping anything from her she doesn’t need to know; her world certainly doesn’t need any needless rattling!

Well, the next day after school, Sarah and I were sitting together and chatting about nothing in particular when she suddenly stopped and said, “Mom, I had a strange dream last night.”

I casually asked, “What was the dream about, Sarah?”

She replied, “Well, I dreamed our family was moving!”

My head spun around, my eyes doubled in size and my chin nearly hit the floor. Well, actually, that’s how it felt on the inside. On the outside, however, I did my best to stay nonchalant as I asked, “Tell me more about your dream.”

She said, “Well, I just dreamed that we were selling our house and I was saying good bye to my friends at church.”

Talk about a “goose bump moment!” I had asked for a confirmation and I got a confirmation! I just love those kinds of non-coincidences.

But wait. There’s more! (I sound just like the host of a late night infomercial!)

As the month progressed, I started to worry about telling Sarah that we were going to be moving. I knew she loved her small, friendly Christian school, her house, her great neighborhood and her church. I was quite sure she was not going to be thrilled (especially as a teenager) with the news that everything was about to change.

So all month I prayed one simple prayer, “Lord, please prepare Sarah’s heart.”

I know I told you last week that when we first told her the news, she cried. And she did. But she didn’t cry very long—maybe about twenty minutes.

Then the very next day she said something rather amazing to me. She said, “Mom, I had already been thinking lately that I would like to move and that moving would be a good thing.”

I said, “Sarah, honey, you’re so happy here. Where would those kinds of thoughts come from?”

She said, “I don’t know. They just sort of appeared in my head!”

Don’t you love that? A mom prays for her daughter to be prepared and suddenly thoughts sort of “appear in her head!”

It’s so nice to know that God is not surprised by any of this; he sees where we’ve been and He sees where we’re going. As long as He’s not worried, I guess I have no reason to worry either; He’s already shown that He’s quite capable of taking good care of us!

In the meantime, as we wait for our future to unfold, Sarah, Steve and I are busy counting down the days when we will change from a three-potato family into a four-potato family. In other words, Nathan is coming home! He’ll land at 5:05 Friday afternoon and will be greeted in person by the Really Raucous Smith Fan and Family Club.

What a treat it will be to have all four Smiths under the same roof for ten days. I don’t know what the faraway future holds but I know that the immediate future holds hugs, food, smiles and the chance to revel in the simple of joys of just being a family.

____________________________________

Tuesday, November 18

Last Saturday, I got to hear one of my original songs (called "24/7) done by two young vocalists from the church, Jacob and Hannah.

They are scheduled to sing it for an upcoming church variety show but since I won't be there, they gave me a private performance. (They were "coached" by Miss Norma.)



This songwriter was so honored to have her picture taken with the vocalists.


And since we're talking about music, here are a few "last service" pictures of our Worship Team. They are wonderful folks!



Pleae note that this is a rehearsal; I don't usually take my shoes off in an actual service!


About halfway through the service, while the offertory was being sung, Steve sat down beside me on the front pew and whispered, "Do you wanna sing something with me?"

Now, Steve is a very spontaneous kind of fella and after being married to him for almost twenty seven years, I have managed to turn my naturally non-spontaneous self into a person who is occasionally able to show some semblance of spontaneity.

So I leaned back over to him and said, "Sure!"

And so we did an old hymn, "In the Garden," that we used to sing a very long time ago when we were on the road.
I did alright until the very last note when my tears took over and my voice went away. Looking out at so many crying people made it a bit tough.






At the end of the service, Steve and I had requested that Miss Edith sing, "God Will Take Care of You."



During the song, Steve decided to run over to my mike and (spontaneously) sing some background vocals. Aren't we so cute? (We look like Sonny and Cher.)


So many special Smithfield memories. . .

This morning, we added another beautiful memory to our list as Steve had the privilege of being involved in Hannah's baptism. What a special and tear-filled occasion that was. I'm sure her mom will be updating about it soon but I'll leave you with a picture of Steve, Hannah and her dad, Rich.



Thanks to those of you who have been praying for Hannah over the past few months; she and her family are being carried by the love and prayers of friends around the world.

Sarah is having a good week; staying busy spreading her smiles and perkiness. I have a special story to tell about her that concerns our move; tune back in later for "the rest of the story."



___________________________________

Monday, November 17, 2008

When I got up this morning and looked in the mirror, I almost ran for cover. Well, actually, I DID run for cover--Cover Girl! Lots of it!

And Maybelline! Tons of it!

But, alas, it didn't help. I still look like a worn out, emotionally spent, middle aged, former pastor's wife! I guess it's a lot to ask of Cover Girl to cover all of that!

Although our last service yesterday was very special and affirming, it's just really hard to say good-bye to people you love.

Did I mention, "Really, REALLY hard?"

I smiled and cried and hugged and then I smiled some more, and hugged some more and cried some more. No wonder I'm tired; my poor emotions probably don't know WHAT to think! (Actually, emotions probably aren't responsible for thinking, but you get the idea.)

And so, since my brain is presently functioning at a less-than-functional level, for right now I am just going to post a little slide show that I made for Steve which highlights some of the special moments of the past 4 1/2 years. The church also prepared a really cool media presentation that was played in the service yesterday; it produced lots of laughter, tears, and applause.

I promise to write more later when I feel a little more rested and a little less depleted. I could tell I was feeling extra "stretched" this morning when I had a Little Debbie cake for breakfast! (Don't tell anyone!)

I actually did have something healthy later on but at the very moment when I first got up?

After looking in the mirror?

After realizing make up wasn't going to make a bit of difference?

I knew that only a Little Debbie cake would do.

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7 Woodsdale Dr.
Smithfield, NC 27577

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E-mail Author: beckysmith62@aol.com