Date Created: 12/13/2016
Last Updated: 12/15/2016

In loving memory of Ray Martin
1/20/1943 - 12/10/2016

Location: Omaha, Nebraska

Visits: 16,081

Ray Martin was born Beneath a Winter's Sky in 1943 to Wilbur and Elsie in Chaseley, North Dakota. Ray learned to care for his community working alongside his dad in the Martin Grocery Store. Ray fueled his faith next to his little brother, Warren, and other youth in the Bowdon Community Church of God. He planted a caring heart hosting church guests in their home with his baby sister, Betty Jo (Shrout).

Under another winter sky in '67 Ray entered into a life long partnership with the smartest, most beautiful, kindest, strongest, wisest, loving and lovable woman he could find, Nina Patrie. Freshly degreed from Warner Pacific College in Oregon, Pastor Ray extended his big heart to people in churches across North Dakota, Colorado and Nebraska before God expanded the call overseas. The Martins, now a team of 4, having added a son, Scott Ray, and a daughter Julie Joy (Stoll ) extended their love to the people of East Africa. It was under another winter sky in January of 1980 that the Martins boarded a plane bound for Mt. Kilimanjaro. It was in the Mara that Ray met his age-mate and brother Jackson Ole Teleo, and they joined Benson Shibangi. These two men, and others joined the Ray and Nina partnership to lead a dynamic varied ministry of health clinics, churches, a Bible College and even a cheese factory. This ministry today shines brightly under the African skies, in the form of schools and orphanages and vibrant, empowered Churches.

Under the gray skies In the blustery North Dakota winter of 1988 the Churches of the United Methodist and the communities of Mandan, Steele, and Arthur began to receive a blessing that lasting over 17 years. The team of Ray and Nina with the ever present collaboration of Scott and Julie came hone again. Pastor Ray brought his gentle touch to the pastoral care and community leadership of these towns.

How many babies were held in Ray's hands? How many hands did he bring together in marriages? How many hands did he hold and later lovingly mold as they took their last breaths.


Ray loved people well in each season of life, but it was the winter of people's life that Ray connected best. He studied and explored how we humans transitioned from this life to the next and then guided us through. Serving his final years of ministry as a Hospice Chaplain, Ray brought a calm to the wintery storms of people's lives, not only with the patients but the staff as well. He brought joy in the midst of sadness, he planted life in the midst of death. In the winter of 2016 he left this planet and our lives here better than he found them. Ray loved life, but he loved to love life with others especially those grandkids Dominic, Josiah, Nate, Dan and Anya!

Ray had an especial close relationship with his nieces and nephews who love him as much as he loved them.

Ray was always looking to include one more, to side with the underdog, to feed the hungry, care for the planet, to help us and feed us so we could grow. Ray's signature gesture was not a finger to hush nor a wag of disapproval, it was a thumbs up of affirmation, of encouragement, of HOPE. The family hopes to extend this legacy and invites all to join them to trust too much, care too much, live too much, because that is just the right amount.

Rather than sending flowers, plant some. If you want to express your appreciation through a gift, please do so through one of the following: Hospice House https://www.donationpay.org/hospicehouseomaha/ , Anderson University http://www.anderson.edu/support/gift or plant a tree with one of several wonderful organizations.

But most of all bring others in from the cold and hug them tight beneath the Winter's Sky.

 
 
 
 

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From: Scott Martin Monday, January 9, 2017
Pandemonium: by Dominic Martin
Pandemonium
literally defined means wild uproar or unrestrained disorder
yet now it means something new
but let's rewind and take it back to the former
yes in definition but in history too
because in this story we're provided some context clues
Pandemonium
how uncannily apt
for how many times did we roar in laugh-
torn in our sides on his behalf
in this 7th floor apt.
how appropriately it describes these stories that we have.
My mind subscribes to the stories of grandma Nina and I
pranking him in the car, the seat heaters turned to nine and I'd
be laughing in the back as the long drive flies by.
How bout how forgetful he was, all those times
His hat, keys, handkercheif, or even his knife
"Oh golly, how'd it get there?" as he's standing in the security line
yet still so benign as his knife is handed over
How bout his "red" Prius? as he told the airport cheauffer
"It's a little more like tan" that descriptions a little closer
From this my dad and I looked and said "man, that'd look good with a red Spoiler"
It's since come off but the memory's still there
I guess you could say it came off like cards from the table thrown under his chair
It might have only happened once but the memory's still there
And every time it comes up, I'M almost out of MY chair
We're all laughing and falling over.
His memory promotes unrestrained disorder
Pandemonium
another word in a confluence of many
We don't always know where he got 'em
Even though he said he read 'em in Newsweek
nevertheless, his vocabulary compote has turned into a legacy
one that we jokingly refer to repeatedly
in characteristically shrouded yet organically pure praise
that characteristically speaks to his convivial character
I say! that man knew how to be happy!
He was a light in the dark
a light at the end of a tunnel
A witness to Christ's love
His life was PURE Pandemonium!
At least in the definition I think he knew.
That's the one I'm gonna choose
When we walked in at 1:30 in the morning and he stood up to give us hugs... the feeling I had was indescrible, one that only He can give.
He made sure to hug each of us three before he nearly fell back onto the bed.
I had not felt so much love.
We spent the next hour taking our turns or all hugging him in a dog pile.
and he could only find one word to describe it.
Pandemonium
No longer a mere wild uproar or unrestrained disorder
Now it means something so much more.
Pandemonium
now a way to describe Inexplicable Joy
Joy enough to cause a wild uproar or unrestrained disorder, sure.
but it still means more
He said, "I didn't know pandemonium could be so good."
well little did he know, it was.



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Nate(Grandson): I remember drinking chia and dunkin bagels in the early morning with babu.I remember Playing with model trains and with the little japanese trains. I remember BIking and hiking around in the forest with him.I remember Playing tennis with my grandfather. I Will continue to do these things in His memory.


Julie(Daughter): Dad I will...
stop and look at all the flowers
gaze at the stars and take the kids out to see meteor showers and full moons.
enjoy the peace of a sun rise.b
be in awe of a vibrant sunset.
enjoy holding babies and making people laugh.
throw random words that almost sound right into conversations and songs.
enthusiastically play sports and games with nieces and nephews.
try new foods cause you would.
tell people to go for it.
hold people's hand listen and be quiet when that is what they need.
see the good in people even when they can’t.
cry because it is okay.
laugh at myself as a gift to those around me.


Dan (Grandson):Babu I will ...
follow my dreams.
wake up early and see the sunrise.
play with RC stuff and continue your stories
make people laugh
make more friends because you always did when you got the chance
remember you when I eat beagles (actually means bagels)
be more happy
look at birds at daytime and stars at night


Anya (Grandaughter): Babu I will...
Keep dancing ‘cause you taught me and you were good
Sing
Wake up and have 15min with God like you
l love God with all my heart.
Love like you
Be ornery like you



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
God bless your family. Everyone I met was exactly what I pictured a family member of Ray Martin would be like! He was and is so proud of you! I told our team that the service is tentatively planned for Friday and will keep them updated.

Here are some of my memories of Ray:
I had the daunting privilege of filling Ray's position as full-time chaplain when he retired in the fall of 2012 from Alegent Hospice. I say "daunting" because I was fresh out of residency and just about every staff member would say, "Those are some BIG SHOES to fill!" After he trained me in my new position, I could see why. He would have what I called spiritual "power visits" with patients. They were often not extremely long but the look on the patients faces after we left spoke it all! Even years after Ray retired, patient families who had multiple members on hospice services remembered Chaplain Ray, his kindness, his sense of humor, his nonjudgmental presence. He had the capacity to reflect the love and compassion of God in a way I can only aspire to achieve someday. Heaven is now a richer place, and I consider myself forever blessed to have known Ray Martin.

Lydia Bockus
Chaplain
CHI Health at Home Hospice



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Who is Babu to Shawn? - By Shawn Stoll (Son-in-law)

Who is Babu to me? Having only known Babu and Nina the past 17 years, it is near impossible to think of one separate from the other. (Even in my phone their contact is “Babu & Nina”.) Babu & Nina reflect Christ to me as Prophet, Priest, and King: Nina’s vision and discernment, Babu’s pastor heart, Nina’s clear decision making and kindness, Babu’s sharing the journey as peers and friends.
Babu is my father-in-law. A ferocious defender of the family, on the night I came to ask for Julie’s hand in marriage, he was sitting next to Nina on the loveseat holding a broom like some strange interpretation of “American Gothic”. But from the moment of giving their blessing they have embraced me as “their people”, with open arms and hearts. I have never felt pressure to be anything other than who I am. I did not have to earn their favor, I married their daughter, therefore it simply is.
We were celebrating Christmas in Anderson in 2004. I was working as an electrician at the time, but Babu was aware of my calling, and introduced me to his peers at AU as “a fellow theologian”. Through moments like these Babu gently encouraged me in my own pursuit of Christ, and willing obedience to His call.
All of his family are by force of birth, except for Anjie and I. We are his family by choice. So while you argue which is his favorite this-or-that, Anjie and I will rest in the knowledge that we are his only chosen ones.
Most of our conversations of depth revolved around relationship to Jesus, marriage, parenting, and pastoring. And they are usually talked out over football, coffee, or both. Babu is a Husker fan, I am a Bison fan. The two intertwine often, and Babu would often send newspaper clippings with his notes penned in the margins. This fall, my friend captured me with Babu and my dad in front of Kinnick Stadium following NDSU’s win over the Hawkeyes. It is my last picture of me celebrating with Babu.
Our last conversation took place while watching those Hawkeyes beat NE at Thanksgiving. Babu’s cancer had returned and I had some questions to ask him. Everyone else had fled, and those four hours provided the opportunity to discuss those things with Babu. As always, his opinion was insightful, allowing me another point of view on life. Babu is a great example of living and dying well. He has made a careful exploration of who he is, and the work he has been given to do, and has sunk himself into that with passion and a peace that comes from the important things settled in his own heart and mind. He has humbly lived out his role in submission to God, without comparing himself to others or trying to impress himself. Babu knew God isn’t impressed by men, and is at peace with that. Babu lived and died a willing obedience to, and faithful fulfillment of, Jesus’ call on his life, and he did it with a creative style unique to Babu.(Gal 6.4,5 from Peterson’s “The Message”)
As his family said our good-byes this past week, I realized that Babu has finished the race set out before him, and that he would soon be in the arms of Jesus, and that he would be the first among us to hold our precious Lou. She is the one grandchild that he is the first to hold, and I am just a bit envious. I will always be thankful for the time we shared in the journey together, and thankful for his example of a life well lived and died. May we all do as well, better for knowing Babu.



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Josiah Stoll (Grandson)
Babu, I remember that you:
-Told the greatest bedtime stories.
-Crazier yet, most of them actually happened to you.
-Were like some kind of expert on Sunday comics
-and the many constellations
-and all of these totally random seeming birds
-and the various sounds that they made
-Took me on these trips to Fontanel Forest
-And explained the stuff that I didn’t understand in a way that I remembered it.
And so, I will:
-Remember that God comes first, before anything else.
-Remember that Family is the second most important thing in my life.
-Remember to ask good questions, even when I don’t really understand the subject.
-Look to the skies, and remember that God set all of those stars out there, long before I was alive.
-Use these huge words that improve everyone’s vocabulary and make them laugh.
-Not take myself so seriously that I don’t get to have any fun.
-Have some great adventures, so that I can tell my grandchildren about them.
-Use a lot of onomatopoeias (sound-words), even when one doesn’t exist yet/ probably shouldn’t exist at all.
-Drink more coffee, tea, and chai.
-Introduce my grandchildren to new and unusual foods from all over the world.
-Travel a little, so I can have an odd collection of memorabilia
-Take all of those letters that you wrote to me, write them down, and then live out that advice.
-Spend more time outside my comfort zone, that’s where all the best adventures are.
-Encourage my grandchildren to be the best that they can be.



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
How does one begin to share a few memories or a memory about someone you have known all your life. When we were young, I thought Ray Martin's name was little Ray. That's because we had a hired man that was big Ray. As far as I was concerned, we were all part of the same family.
I was recently reminded of the time that Ray came home for Christmas from college for the first time. As he walked along the platform by the Jamestown strain station, where there was absolutely no snow, he said, "It feels so good to have snow under my feet again." That was the winter of 1961-62, and there wasn't the usual amount of white for Christmas. So when the Wonnenbergs and youth took him back to the train station Herb looked for a place to satisfy Ray's request for a snowball fight. The only place that had enough snow was a cemetery. So, we stopped, had a fun snowball fight and got him to the train on time.

Carol Patrie Bishop



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
We spent a good deal of the evening talking about many wonderful times talks experiences we had with Ray. He and I shared the in-law syndrome of having to stick up for ourselves against the Patrie spouses. We also shared the gift that we were Katherine's favorites. Yes we will miss him so much. But we will be blessed with his joyful spirit in every gathering. He has left us his stories and we each have many to share. Many are funny and some are just peaceful gentle times together.
Know we love you. He is so proud of this family of his. So are we.

We'll be together soon.
Marcia



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Fabio Ikedo · Friends with Ray Martin
Scott, it was hard to read your words about Ray's condition. During the year of our CPE residency in Omaha, your dad was always so wise, nice and friendly. He and Nina invited my family to be together in important and meaningful moments, such as Thanksgiving and Christmas. He made a great impact on my life. I am so thankful for his life, attitudes and words of wisdom. My prayers for Ray, Nina, Julie (and her family), you (and your family).



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Julie Martin Stoll with Anjie Kardatzke Martin and 5 others.
December 8 at 10:13am ·
Dear Ones,
We have felt the waves of your kind words and prayers. We have read and sniffled through all the comments you wrote on my brother Scott Martin's post. We also have enjoyed stories and experiences you have had with Mom and Dad and shared with us in person or through technology. Dad is very alert and grateful when he is awake. His kindness continuing to radiate. Breathing is still the biggest challenge and are seeing longer harder times when the lungs/diaphragm seize up. We have found tricks that are helping him get longer peaceful naps. Which is lovely. Our goal is to conserve Dad's energy as we anticipate Scott Anjie and Dominic's arrival late this evening. Please pray for their safe travels and cooperative weather. Hugs to each of you.



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Ray - by Ben Patrie
Such an apt name
It’s not often a young boy longs to see
His old uncle
But not all uncles were lit up quite like Ray

A ray
In a sometimes dark world
Who’d visit you and speak always as an old friend would
And somehow also like a grandfather
With a treasure to show, from some far off part of the world.

But I’ve come to see now, Ray, that you are the treasure.

You spoke in Kenya about your joy at seeing the place
Again
Through the eyes of your grandson,
And that was your gift
To see the world through so many different eyes

To see the truth
and speak it with humility
To be kind as a conviction

Your wisdom
like Socrates
Born out of an understanding of your own ignorance
You didn’t presume to understand
But you studied
And you listened
And you learned
And through that
you taught others to do the same.

You were an evangelist
of human goodness
You trusted too much
And that was the perfect amount

When I asked you if a group of friends and I could walk
Back from a meal to a Kenyan hostel we’d only been to once,
In Nairobi,
In the dark,
You said, "sure"

When the police stopped us
with large automatic rifles
and asked us for our passports
And told us we’d be arrested because we weren’t carrying them
And finally got around to asking us for money
On a darkened street
We stood
under the last streetlight and hoped
For something we didn’t know

And then two rays of light shined from the black
and empty end
Of the road
And it wasn’t the voice of God who spoke from them
It was a retired Kenyan air force pilot
Who worked for the U.N.
And happened to be on his way home from a meeting
When he saw three scared kids
And stopped to tell us
“You will be killed out here!”
And gave us a ride back.

It wasn’t great advice to let us go, Ray.
You trusted too much.
You had faith that the world was a good place.
And sometimes the world lets you down.
Sometimes the world asks for your money in the dark.
Sometimes you can only cling to the last light on the road
not knowing.

And we don’t know, Ray.
And I learned from your life that all we know
sometimes is that we know nothing.

But choosing to trust
Even too much
Is pretty close to the definition of faith

You’re a true man of God
You don’t have to be a believer to see it
It’s plain as day
As bright as a ray
Of light on a Kenyan hill
After a rain
And I don’t know what God is like
But I hope it’s like you, Ray.
Because if he is, he’ll speak to you as an old friend
And somehow still like a grandfather
And you can chat about what a treasure this world is
And how the world is better for having had you in it.

May we use your map to seek the light?
Amen



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Janeen Ball Eventhough I haven't seen Ray and Nina for many years, I have fond memories of my times with them. I always appreciated Ray's quiet confidence and wisdom, how he loved Nina and his children and people. See you on the other side Ray. -Janeen



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Nancy Zimmerman Gardiner · Friends with Ray Martin
There are no words to describe Ray that capture his impact on people, whether his patients or teammates. He was one of those rare souls who, in his quest to understand humanity, transcended it. He was so humble and down to earth, yet so inspiring. He will be so missed.



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Lisa Wilcox · Friends with Ray Martin
Nina, Scott and Julie It was such an honor to be able to care for Ray. He was on the team when my mom was on hospice and made a hand mold for us. It was truly a blessing to be able to give back in some small way. Please know you are in my prayers!! He was such a gift to this world and everyone who knew him!



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Sandra Thorenson · Friends with Ray Martin
Ray was one of the most genuine persons I know. He also was one of the kindest, most loving and giving person I met. Dear Nina and family, Matt and I will keep you close in our thoughts and prayers. Ray was a precious man and he will be definitely missed by so many of us.



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Dec 9th (Son)
It is hard to describe the scene, 6 people in the room so at lease six ways to see it, all incomplete, all true. This account is only one perspective...mine... it is incomplete.
I have always liked circles.
April 1996, 6 people in a hospital room, Dominic Ray fought for his life. Only days old, but he fought as the warrior he would grow into. The other five people would gather around searching for a finger, or patch of skin on that infants body that was free of tubes, or needles, or monitors. Today my father counted again, one, two, three... four, five, searching each face as he counted, a smile on his face lite up the whole room. The same six as in 96, but this time five us reached out to touch my father, to connect one more time with the man who had connected us. We all sat together on the hospital bed. In 96 we prayed... today we prayed. In 96 he smiled, today he smiled. In 96 we were exhausted by our tears, today, the same blood vessels throbbed, as we sniffed and sobbed together. In 96 we beseeched that little one to stay with us to fight, we pleaded for a life to come. Today we celebrated a life well lived, we said goodbye.
In 96 I saw my father refuse to leave little Dominic as he fought on his first days, today I write as my dad sleeps, maybe his last sleep, and Dominic is laying on the floor next to this Babu's bed. The lion king sang of a circle of life and today more than ever I find myself in the middle of a circle.



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Clayton Patrie (nephew) "Scott, thank you for keeping us all updated. I'm really glad you were able to be there. Seeing everyone's comments and outpouring of love and support is a testament to what a great man your dad was! He was the real deal. It is extremely rare to have such a pure heart and life lived in such a lovely way! I know your mom, sister, and you and your families will keep that intent alive. Please know that you are all in our thoughts during this time. Even as our lives have become very distant now, I am very proud to be a part of the same family!"



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Scott Martin (son): Dec 6th
Just a few minutes ago I stood in front of my students and staff and shared that my father, Ray Martin is losing his final battle with cancer. Of course, I cried, and it was really hard, I would rather just get on a plane and sneak off with my family. But what has happened is as much a testimony to my as anything else. Sniffing like a fool, and with tears streaming down my face I stood and hugged student after student, many with tears of their own expressing love and appreciation and commitment to prayer for me, and Anjie Kardatzke Martin and Dominic Martin and my mom Nina Martin and my sister Julie Martin Stoll, many by name. We are not alone in our suffering because along the way people connect us, or teach us how to connect. My mom and dad taught me, and I am honored to pass that on to many many more, who I hope, in-turn will continue that legacy. I stand on a mountain, a mountain of good work and wisdom build by many before me, so that I could stand tall and lift others up with me. I just want to shout from this mountaintop, "Thanks DAD, I love you, and you are indeed leaving this place FAR BETTER than you found it. We will care for each other, because you cared for us, and taught us how to love each other. As you join that heavenly choir, we will make a joyful noise here on earth. As you gather with believers, from every nation, and can communicate without the barrier of language and culture - we who remain will continue to deconstruct the barriers that separate us, and look to what unites us. As your light dims and finally goes out, we want you to know that because of you our lights will burn brighter. May the trees you planted (and pruned) bear everlasting fruit to the glory of Jesus Christ our Lord."



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Shawn Stoll:
This is a bit long, but just wanted to share my reflections on my father in law who passed peacefully Saturday.
Who is Babu to me? Having only known Babu and Nina the past 17 years, it is near impossible to think of one separate from the other. (Even in my phone their contact is “Babu & Nina”.) Babu & Nina reflect Christ to me as Prophet, Priest, and King: Nina’s vision and discernment, Babu’s pastor heart, Nina’s clear decision making and kindness, Babu’s sharing the journey as peers and friends.
Babu is my father-in-law. A ferocious defender of the family, on the night I came to ask for Julie’s hand in marriage, he was sitting next to Nina on the loveseat holding a broom like some strange interpretation of “American Gothic”. But from the moment of giving their blessing they have embraced me as “their people”, with open arms and hearts. I have never felt pressure to be anything other than who I am. I did not have to earn their favor, I married their daughter, therefore it simply is.
We were celebrating Christmas in Anderson in 2004. I was working as an electrician at the time, but Babu was aware of my calling, and introduced me to his peers at AU as “a fellow theologian”. Through moments like these Babu gently encouraged me in my own pursuit of Christ, and willing obedience to His call.
All of his family are by force of birth, except for Anjie and I. We are his family by choice. So while you argue which is his favorite this-or-that, Anjie and I will rest in the knowledge that we are his only chosen ones.
Most of our conversations of depth revolved around relationship to Jesus, marriage, parenting, and pastoring. And they are usually talked out over football, coffee, or both. Babu is a Husker fan, I am a Bison fan. The two intertwine often, and Babu would often send newspaper clippings with his notes penned in the margins. This fall, my friend captured me with Babu and my dad in front of Kinnick Stadium following NDSU’s win over the Hawkeyes. It is my last picture of me celebrating with Babu.
Our last conversation took place while watching those Hawkeyes beat NE at Thanksgiving. Babu’s cancer had returned and I had some questions to ask him. Everyone else had fled, and those four hours provided the opportunity to discuss those things with Babu. As always, his opinion was insightful, allowing me another point of view on life. Babu is a great example of living and dying well. He has made a careful exploration of who he is, and the work he has been given to do, and has sunk himself into that with passion and a peace that comes from the important things settled in his own heart and mind. He has humbly lived out his role in submission to God, without comparing himself to others or trying to impress himself. Babu knew God isn’t impressed by men, and is at peace with that. Babu lived and died a willing obedience to, and faithful fulfillment of, Jesus’ call on his life, and he did it with a creative style unique to Babu.(Gal 6.4,5 from Peterson’s “The Message”)
As his family said our good-byes this past week, I realized that Babu has finished the race set out before him, and that he would soon be in the arms of Jesus, and that he would be the first among us to hold our precious Lou. She is the one grandchild that he is the first to hold, and I am just a bit envious. I will always be thankful for the time we shared in the journey together, and thankful for his example of a life well lived and died. May we all do as well, better for knowing Babu.



From: Scott Martin Thursday, December 15, 2016
Short tribute video for my dad: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UEKazCc2Gn4

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