family – Ann Coker

Nativity Sets: For the Asking

From Israel From a Friend From Friends

This year, I again displayed my Nativity Sets in my living room, yet they do not have the same appeal as in other years. I think it’s because I’m the only one who sees them. So what is their significance? Are they set up only for my appreciation, or should others view them? I can enjoy their beauty and remember how I’ve accumulated them, but is that enough?

I’m thankful that Becky and Paul also decorate their space –– indoors and outside. Becky displays her nativity sets on the sofa table, along with a snowy (cottony) scene on the bottom shelf. Quite lovely! And the Christmas tree is brilliant with colored lights and ornaments saved over the years. I’d guess that most ornaments have a story. I enjoy sitting and viewing the tree.

As for my nativity sets, the photo on the left shows our first set, which Bill brought from Israel, along with the Flight into Egypt (up right front in the photo on the right). These are treasured, and I’ve even polished them with olive oil on occasion. The set in the middle photo was a gift from a friend in Terre Haute, IN. I added the angels on the left, a gift from my mother-in-law years ago. Putting this set on the piano also gives me room to add Christmas cards and books of carols. The photo on the right is a display from several friends. On the left is a musical one, and in the center is a tiny set from Kentucky. The angel in the far middle is one we used as a tree topper.

Now to the title I gave this blog post: “for the asking.” There is no reason for keeping all these nativity sets for more years to come. I’m going to offer them to our children and grandchildren. The sets need new homes, to be enjoyed by next generations. In case they don’t see this blog post, I’ll also copy and paste it to them in emails.

On another note, we decorate splendidly for Christmas, and I think the outside lights on our homes and businesses add radiance to this dull winter season. So, I’m all for it. But I’ve often wondered why we do little in the area of decorations for Good Friday and Easter, perhaps only at church. These are days that are worth receiving our attention. After all, Jesus came as a baby with the intention to give His life for our redemption and then rose from the grave to assure our eternal life forever. Just something to think about. How would I (and you) decorate for Easter?

What’s Happening?

As to what’s happening, I think of past, present, and future tenses. It’s been over a month since I’ve posted a blog. Hope you have missed my ramblings. Being productive, I plan to stay in that vein. If you are interested in my days, read on.

Past: I spent 17 days visiting our oldest son, William, in Ohio, and had the pleasure of hearing him preach in his church, where he’s served for 13 years. In addition to that privilege, I heard his wife, Rhonda, teach Sunday school, observe the church’s Pantry ministry twice a week, eat out a few times, sit in a marina nearby, and take a trip up three miles to view the Ohio River and the active locks. Add those to a memorable visit from our granddaughter, Sarah, and family, with chats around the dinner table. Returning home to Indianapolis, I connected with Ruth, Paul’s mother, who is visiting us during November.

Present: Plans are now underway for two days of Thanksgiving feasting. Our Kentucky sons, John and Tom, with their wives, come on Thanksgiving day. Friday, the Gearharts gather for another Thanksgiving dinner, both prepared by our daughter, Becky. She’s now baking in the kitchen, and I don’t offer to help. She’s the ultimate chef.

Future: I continue to work on three to-be-published books. I’ve decided on self-publishing, so that’s a new learning process. My memoir, An Honest Caregiver: Facing the Reality of my Husband’s Dementia, and Bill’s book of retreat messages, Holiness: A Matter of Relationship, are both completed and edited. I’m waiting on front and back matter, a cover design, and endorsements. For the third work, Days of Our Lives: Devotional Booklet, I’m gradually adding devotions, some from other publications with permission. I want to include 60 devos.

So that’s what’s happening in my life. I’d like to know what’s going on in your lives. Responses will be appreciated. This season of Thanksgiving and Christmas is a great time to stay connected.

Our Daughter’s Perspective

Photo taken before moving to Indianapolis. Written by Becky in June of 2023.

My mother phoned, stating she and Dad decided to move to Indianapolis and wanted to purchase a house with my husband, Paul, and me. For two years we had discussed different options, knowing my mom would need help caring for my dad. Suddenly we put preparations in motion, including the sale of both of our houses. The search began and we found a home here that would meet our needs.

No one can fully prepare you for all the nuances of caring for a loved one with dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. We read several books to understand the disease process and to know better what to expect. Several well-meaning people told me we would not be able to keep my dad in our home for the entire process. We determined to try to keep Dad at home with us. Everyone’s circumstances are different, and this isn’t always possible.

Although we experienced difficult times––watching my dad slowly slip away into the recesses of his mind––we could give thanks for much. I am thankful for the home we found that provided a secure place for my dad and where everyone had space of their own. I am thankful my dad remained happy most of the time, and he never became so violent we could not care for him in our home. I am thankful for the support of my husband, and of my brothers who made it a priority to help, including staying at the house when Paul and I traveled. I’m thankful for friends and family who prayed for us, advised us, loved on us, and took this journey alongside us.

Jay Allen wrote the song, Blank Stares, about his mother going through early-onset Alzheimer’s disease. With his permission, I quote some of the lyrics:

“It’s getting harder and harder to watch you disappear

Oh if only farther leaving me in tears

If I could only seal the cracks you’re slipping through

Wish I didn’t feel so helpless when it comes to helping you

Hold on

But I keep holding on

Every little memory made of you and me

Every little glimpse of who you used to be

I know you’re still in there

Deep down somewhere I swear I still see you

I still see you

Between the blank stares”

Dementia is a long, slow, and difficult process of dying. My dad used to say that growing old is not for sissies. Caring for a loved one with dementia isn’t for sissies either. Hold on to Jesus! ~ by Rebecca Anne Coker Gearhart, RN

This will be included as the foreword in my upcoming book on caregiving.

Not Once but Twice

Bill came home in the middle of the day as I was ironing in the dining room. He said, “I quit.” Startled, I asked for details. He was an adjunct professor at Asbury Theological Seminary, and we were living in seminary housing. He had asked the president for a short leave of absence in order to complete the dissertation for his PhD at Hebrew Union College. With the request denied, Bill said he could not continue teaching.

I’m not sure now how much of the school year was yet to complete, but my concern was loss of not only an income but position in the school and community. Wilmore, Kentucky, was the town of two prominent schools: seminary and college. Somehow the news traveled across the street to Asbury College, and not long afterward the president there asked Bill to come for an interview, and he was later hired.

In the meantime, I had doubts and questions about what would be next. Our four children needed a father with a substantial job. That night, as usual, we knelt on either side of our bed and prayed. I don’t recall what Bill said, but it made me feel calm and confident God would provide. I knew Bill was capable of teaching, but he also needed to finish that dissertation. As I said, Asbury College’s president hired Bill and also gave him the first quarter off (with pay) to work on his dissertation. During that time it became evident that the subject matter was not suitable, for the assigned translation had several languages not in Bill’s knowledge. A trip to Cincinnati to confer with his major professor meant a change in topic and a later proposed trip to Israel.

While the dissertation did not get completed before the next quarter’s teaching load, Bill had broken its back, so to speak. The new job at the college meant another house for us, a consistent salary, and a productive program of teaching for Bill. Before long Bill earned his PhD and became a full professor. Our whole family gained lasting friendships, and I also earned my BA at the college.

But this “quitting a job” happened again. After some changes at the college, Bill accepted a position at OMS mission agency in Greenwood, Indiana, and we moved there. Two years later, after a board meeting, Bill arrived home to announce that he resigned. Now what? The decision was reasonable, for his staff position required that he should have had field experience. He did not, and felt it illegal to continue. A seminary in Oregon offered him a position, but he turned it down. Then the unexpected: Asbury College called to request he return as academic dean. This he accepted, and we moved back to Wilmore.

This would not be the end of moves for our family, but it did confirm God’s provision and protection during changes in salary and location. We trust God, for He is good all the time.

Bill Courted Ann

In answer to my survey, a friend asked about our courtship. Enjoy.

It all began in New Orleans where Bill and I belonged to the same church. Bill never liked me to tell this story, for he thought it made him look like he robbed the cradle. Bill was the song leader for youth church, and he led the songs for Sunday evening service. He also played a stringed washtub in a jut band that often performed for youth group. Everyone loved Billy (how he was known then), especially my parents, the reason they allowed me to date him. He rode the bus and then walked a mile to my home before we went to the local movie theater.

Billy often came over on Saturdays to hung out. Once he hid my dad’s false teeth and replaced them in his soaking dish with a tiny toy set. (Dad did find his set in the morning.) Mother adored Billy and she prayed we would one day marry. At the time I was a high school freshman and Billy was a freshman at Tulane University.

We broke up before my family moved back to Mobile, Alabama. Billy’s reason didn’t make sense, but his mother believed he shouldn’t date anyone he didn’t intend to marry.

I chose Latin for my language credit in high school. That led to writing Billy with questions, for he studied Latin in college. During my senior year Billy came to Mobile with the Tulane band. From the hotel downtown, Billy phoned my house. At first I thought it was the boy I wanted to date. With that settled, my dad drove to the hotel and brought him to our house.

We had a fun evening, and I was intent on getting Billy’s attention, proving something, I guess. For my English lit class, I had to give Lady Macbeth’s soliloquy. So I rehearsed it to impress Billy.

The next day at school we had an assembly with the Tulane band performing. I sat in the balcony and bragged to my girlfriends that I knew the sousaphone player. Afterward, I went to the stage, for my mother had told me to kiss Billy goodbye––on the cheek.

Our correspondence became more regular and enjoyable. When time for my graduation, I invited Billy to attend and bring my girlfriend from New Orleans. Billy and Nancy arrived and stayed at our house. After my graduation, we went to the prom and then swimming in the bay. At home Billy and I stayed up to talk.

About mid-summer, Billy came with an engagement ring. I held it up to the window, and he said, “The diamond is real.” We went to tell my mother, and later after supper, Billy asked my dad if he could marry me. Dad asked, “What about her scholarship to college?” I remember Billy’s answer: “I’m not marrying a college degree, I’m marrying Ann.” We set a date for August 24th, and my mother’s disappointment was not having enough time for engraved invitations. Billy visited me several times before our wedding at my church in Mobile. His Uncle Bud, a United Methodist pastor, officiated, and the Coker family came from New Orleans.

Bill had started pastoring a small church in North Biloxi, Mississippi, so he had income and a parsonage. That’s where we spent our honeymoon, and I’ve never regretted it. That first Sunday morning I heard Bill preach and that night we had quarterly conference at church with the district superintendent presiding. We started off our marriage serving the church and each other.

Celebrating our 60th wedding anniversary: family picnic in Indianapolis.

My Identity

Thinking over the names and roles attached to me over the years, I’d say it’s been quite a few. As a baby, I was the first girl born in three Laird generations, making me special to my dad’s mother whom I called Nanny. As a favored child, I took advantage of its pleasures. While my younger sister fell asleep in her crib, I had to be rocked each night. In those years, public school started with kindergarten, so I became a student at five years of age. We moved from Mobile to New Orleans and back to Mobile where I graduated from Murphy High School. Three months later I married Bill Coker and by taking his name (and more) I became his wife. Eleven months later, the birth of our first son gave me the title of mother. Three more children sealed that name and continues today even though they are grown with their own families, meaning I’ve added the names of granny and great-granny.

During Bill’s years at Asbury College, I was known as a professor’s wife, also a student again for I studied for six years to earn a BA. Accepting a job with Good News magazine, I learned to be an editor, a title I’ve kept years past our time in Wilmore. Moving to Indiana, where Bill served as senior pastor at World Gospel Church, I again became a pastor’s wife. Again, because Bill had served churches in Mississippi and Kentucky. I preferred being wife to a pastor above one of a professor.

While in Indiana, I served at a Crisis Pregnancy Center, first as a volunteer and then a client services director. That title served me well as I trained volunteers and met with clients. My writing career continued as I helped edit articles for CPC publications. I continued to keep journals, wondering what use they will be later. Along with Bill, I accepted various positions in the Emmaus community as opportunities arose. Those titles would vary, the last being director for a woman’s walk.

Bill’s dementia journey made it possible and easier for me to get back to editing and writing, compiling his sermons and prayers for four published books. I was not content to call myself an author until I had my first book written and published in 2023. I’m writing a memoir about my role as caregiver through Bill’s dementia journey. After Bill’s death in 2024, I am now a widow.

I didn’t count up all these names, titles, and roles I’ve assumed or earned. But they don’t compare to the one I value the most. I am a child of God, loving Him and serving others in my faith journey.

This blog post is the result of reading a booklet in one day. It’s a gift from my sister Martha: Loving God With All My Soul by Julie A. Link. Identity cannot be lost if someone steals the many numbers associated with an ID. Our identity is based on being made in God’s image. We know His love for us, and we develop our love for Him through the many roles attached to our names.

Decorating for Christmas

Manger Collection from Jerusalem (plus)

Thanksgiving Day is sacred for the Gearhart family. We do not even listen to Christmas carols before that special day, nor do we start the Hallmark Christmas specials. But the day after: it’s an active time of getting the Christmas decorations out of storage. Paul is the one who distributes the totes to the appropriate rooms, and he untangles the cords of lights and even decorates the outside with lights, a manger scene, and a small tree he proudly found a few years ago. In the family room a lounge chair is moved to the sunporch and an artificial tree stands in that corner space. Becky starts to hang ornaments after she helps Paul strings the lights. Many of the ornaments have been handmade by family members. On the oblong sofa table Becky arranges her manger collection on the upper level. It’s quite a variety––from porcelain-like figures to a handmade Peanuts manger scene. Their cardboard village adorns the lower shelf amid cotton-ball snow.

I get to unpack our tote and put up our manger collection, mostly gifts from friends. Our favorite is made from olive wood, the one Bill bought in Jerusalem many years ago. We also have a wooden Christmas tree with lights that Paul handcrafted for us long before we moved to Indy.

One useful practice is of replacement value. As we move the year-round décor from tables, we pack those items in the emptied totes, ready to display after Epiphany on January 6^th. And the next day is Becky’s birthday.

I close with this question: Why decorate if family will not be gathering on Christmas Day? Do the decorations count if only viewed by those who live in our home?

My answer is Yes! Decorations at Christmas seek to focus our attention on God’s greatest gift: Jesus Christ, born of a virgin, lived on our earth, died for our sins, risen to grant us new life.

The last verse of “O Holy Night” exclaims:

Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!