FAMILY IS EVERYTHING

“A father loves completely, gives quietly, teaches gently and inspires deeply”.

Though not consumed by it at all, this week my thoughts have been infiltrated by quiet reminders about my dad. His birthday is Oct. 15, he would have been 105. He died in 2012 after living a pretty amazing life, taken down for the last 3 years by the horrible effects of Alzheimer’s Disease, an illness I wish on no one. This disease robs people of dignity, purpose, awareness of day to day life complete with daily routines or occasions to celebrate family experiences. Mainly, being in the midst of the disease’s throes steals precious memories and ability to communicate. As much as it deeply saddened me and my family to see our dad and grandfather live in anguish, the disease didn’t define his life. It was merely the closing chapter of his life’s book, with less words written to describe that time as compared to almost 90 years of a life that thrived.

Did my father love completely? I don’t have enough space or words to fully answer that question. In simple terms, yes. “Family is everything” was one of his last formed phrases after moving into assisted living care. Conservations during those three years slowly declined in substance. Searching for the right word became a common struggle, yet those three words often summed up every visit with him.

Quiet and gentle? Those are two very good adjectives for dad. I don’t remember a raised voice or harsh word spoken to any of us kids. Discipline came with reasonable conversations, direct instructions, sometimes with just enough sarcasm to accompany a serious facial expression to drive home his point. Physical punishment didn’t exist in our childhood years. Maybe it was because my grandfather had taken liberty with spankings that left emotional scars and a decision to “do differently” with us kids.

Did my dad teach gently and inspire deeply? I smile remembering how many times my brother Mark’s bike lay in pieces on the driveway. For some reason, Mark enjoyed taking things apart, learning how to reassemble. Dad’s only complaint was that too many times missing tools from his workbench interfered with completing his own projects. Mark was the one who dad took along on home improvement projects he did as side jobs to earn extra income for our family. Mark had the aptitude and interest in learning how to measure, plan, and build which came in handy when he built his own home years ago. Not surprisingly, dad was there to help, still able to climb a ladder and yield a hammer well into his late 60s at the time. Brother Dave didn’t get the gift of craftsmanship by any means. What he lacked in that department was made up with an appetite to read books, retain the knowledge he gained and hold conversations with anyone he met. He was a natural athlete even though he never played an organized sport. His physical strength came in handy to carry building materials. Dave was more comfortable with a book on his lap instead of a hammer in his hand.

Inspiration from dad was given mostly from example versus verbal encouragement or commentary. We knew how to love because we witnessed firsthand how he embraced family, his own as well as in-law members. Acceptance of each one seems to have come easily to him. I like to think it’s because he had seen how his parents lovingly accepted a variety of 11 sons and daughters in law as each child married. 

Dad took our family to church, too. Growing up as a kid on a farm, it was his mother who took responsibility to get the children to church. When attending in person wasn’t possible, “church” was held in the living room. She was the family’s spiritual leader for many years. My mother was raised going to church since birth and her relationship with Christ was foremost in her life. Dad joined her church after they married and that’s the one we attended until I left home. He became a trusted quiet leader in the congregation, yet I can recall times he spoke his mind at board meetings, never to condemn someone’s opinions, rather to shed common sense biblical truth on matters of discussion.

So, as I think about his birthday rolling around again, I can’t help but smile. I am deeply grateful for his life and the role he embraced in my own life teaching, encouraging, correcting, leading by example from a spirit of wonderful love.

“Family is everything”. I’d love to hear him say those three words one more time. That last time he spoke to me he was struggling. He had taken hold of my hands and looked at me with great intention as he wanted to express “something”,  trying to push aside the clouds of dementia swarming in his mind. At that moment, I didn’t need a long flowing narrative about whatever was anchoring his thoughts. Those three words spoke everything I needed to hear…love and gentle quietness in an aged mind,  surrounded by circumstances and precious memories that spanned a life worth living.

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According to census.gov the number of children living in fatherless homes has doubled in the last 50 years. That statistic is heartbreaking. It’s also a reflection that “something” has become broken in our family relationships. Whatever the reasons for this outcome, I pray that our children will become a priority to fathers everywhere.

TWO STRANGERS, ONE SANDWICH

In John’s gospel we can read about one of Jesus’ miracles when he fed 5,000 people. In reality, there was probably a greater number that dined as some scholars note that women and children may not have been included in the count. No matter where you fall on either side of the number, the miracle is of great significance considering the measure of basic groceries He worked with to accomplish serving an extraordinary meal! 

It was Jesus’ disciples who were given the task of finding food for the large crowd. Can you imagine their dismay or astonishment that the huge undertaking was given to them in such a casual manner?

“Where will we buy bread for the people to eat?” is the question Jesus posed to Philip. I’m sure he shrugged his shoulders while going directly to common sense for his response.  “We don’t have enough money”…even pointing out how long it would take to earn wages sufficient for  purchasing bread. Along comes Andrew. He’s got a solution. Perhaps he’s been out scanning the crowd looking for “anything” that might be considered an evening meal. He’s found a boy who has five small loaves of barley bread and two fish. Hardly enough to feed an entire family let alone a multitude.

Giving further instructions, Jesus has all the people sit down. The bread and fish are then blessed, the miracle of increase happens and thousands of bellies are satisfied. A little boy’s dinner–under discovery by Andrew and miraculous touch by Jesus–has saved the day. This miracle stirs the people to begin believing that Jesus “is the Prophet who has come into the world”.

What about our little boy? Other than reading it was he who had a small meal with him, no further mention is made after surrendering his bread and fish. Was he alone that day? Did his parents stay behind at home while he ventured off to join thousands on a mountainside to listen to Jesus? By now in his young life, he too had heard about “this Jesus” and wanted to witness for himself Jesus’ teachings and ability to heal people. In preparation for a long day, his mother packed him a “lunch”. 

Years ago I was returning home after spending a week in San Jose with a close friend. Because we both knew that airport food can be expensive, she packed me a light lunch which consisted of a peanut butter and jam sandwich. I think I had an apple, too. Regardless, the sandwich would suffice to tie me over until arriving in Detroit.

Seated next to me was an Asian man. We exchanged smiles and an attempt to converse with him proved cumbersome as I quickly realized his limited command of the English language. I was able to understand that he was traveling “home” to attend his father’s funeral. Of course, I offered my condolences, returning to sitting quietly. Until my stomach began to growl and the anticipation of enjoying my sandwich grew.

I opened my lunch bag, took out my sandwich. My seatmate was looking out the window. His countenance was one of sadness and waiting. I tapped his arm gently and asked “would you like half of my sandwich?” I figured if I was hungry, surely he was as well. Smiling and nodding his head as a courtesy, he accepted my small offer.

I wasn’t looking for my small lunch to “miracuously” increase. Rather, I hoped that by sharing a small meal with someone from another culture, one who was grieving as any person would do under similar circumstances, that in our few hours together  simple kindness would cross language barriers and in turn create a lasting memory to cherish. I know for me it did.

Jesus’ miracle of feeding over 5,000 people didn’t merely end with full bellies. In fact, the food He blessed produced leftovers! Enough to fill 12 baskets! I think it’s significant that each disciple had a basket to gather the leftovers…maybe Jesus’ attempt at a bit of humor to prove a point regarding trust and provision.

Sharing my peanut butter and jam sandwich didn’t leave any crumbs. All I had to show for that afternoon was an empty baggie and brown paper bag. The plane landed. I had given the flight attendant my empty “trash”. My seatmate and I disembarked but not before sharing more smiles and him nodding as a “gesture of appreciation” to me. 

Kindness and generosity can be extended to over 5,000 people. And, it can also be offered to one. One little boy’s surrender helped produce a miracle for many. I’m pretty sure when he returned home that evening he had a lot to tell his parents!

GOD HAS AN APP FOR THAT

“You’ve got mail”.

“There’s an app for that”. 

As you read these two slogans, can you hear the voice behind what’s become iconic in the world of marketing? I can. How about if I throw in this…”and now for the rest of the story”. 

Tag lines and marketing strategies target consumers in ways that entices  us  much like a cleverly designed fishing lure on the end of a line. Did you know that good marketing also uses particular colors to attract potential buyers? The science behind how we think and how we are influenced is a topic for another day. Our brains are unique, complex and integral for every aspect of life itself. So, is it any surprise that God has given us over 30 scripture verses instructing us how to guard our mind?

Jeremiah wrote “The heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is? (New Living Translation)

And in  Proverbs, “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.” (New Living Translation)

Technology is constantly changing. As an example, in my own lifetime I’ve experienced a landline in our family home which shared a line (referred to as a “party line”), cordless phones were added to homes along with standard wall or desk models, businesses had multi line phones on desks, switchboards were replaced by direct dial systems, bulky mobile phones became obsolete with the introduction of slimmer models which now include watches on our wrists. Every year phone technology is updated, packaged and marketed to us as new, better, improved performance. Mobile phones have become a common household device. Where once a wall phone’s cord limited how far one could wander for privacy, a mobile phone can go anywhere with only a few cautions. 1) do you have a good signal and 2) are you fully charged? Lacking one or both of these leaves you dead in the water. Not so with God. He doesn’t change. He’s the same, yesterday and tomorrow.

In Hebrews 4 we read “For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires.”

Perhaps the greatest double edged sword among us today is social media. Meant to bring people together, it has also become a platform where posts and comments are often mean spirited, accusatory, thoughtless assumptions made from lack of knowledge or understanding. If it hadn’t already become a major disappointment for many of us who enjoy its ability to connect with loved ones, now we have AI to contend with regarding the authenticity of information being put in front of our eyes. All of this creates a juggling act to determine what is true, what are lies, both contributing to straying into the playing field of following the human heart instead of taking our lead from God. 

Apple opened its “app store” in 2008. A trademark for their tag line “there’s an app for that” was filed in December 2009. Elwood Edwards was the voice behind “you’ve got mail” which peaked for AOL. Caller ID for telephones was invented in the 1960s and became advanced in the 80’s and 90’s. God’s Word was established before the beginning of time. 

As scriptures were written which scholars compiled into 66 books which is now our Bible, those men didn’t write what their hearts were saying. Inspired by the Holy Spirit they recorded history, poems, prophets, our four gospels, letters to various churches, and a final book describing events yet to happen. Pose any need asking how to  navigate life’s challenges and God will say “there’s an app for that”. It’s My Word.

His 10 commandments pretty much sum up how to live a life of integrity. They keep us from putting other ‘gods’ or things above Him. They keep us in proper boundaries for healthy relationships and conduct inside our businesses. The first four rules focus on our relationship with God, the other six focus on our relationship with people.

My personal Bible has pages that are worn, notes in margins, words or phrases circled, highlighted, or underlined. The binder is currently held together with clear packing tape. My Bible is my “go-to” for a continuous desire to know God and His love for me, encouragement for days I’m weary, finding promises to pray over our children and grandchildren. The comfort of holding my aging Bible on my lap will never fade. Yet, as much as I love my version of scriptures, I admit I have an app for the Bible on my mobile phone, too. I can carry all 66 books in a slim package known as my Smartphone.

Technology has given us every opportunity now to have God’s Word with us. The Bible has been translated into over 7,378 languages! That is mind blowing. The YouVersion app for reading the Bible is available in 2,456 languages!

If you ask me, “there’s an app for that” is playing very well into advancing God’s Word. Even Paul understood that mankind will have no excuse for acknowledging God’s power and authority. I leave you with  Romans 1: 20 “For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see His invisible qualities–His eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.” 

HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW?

My novice gardening skills teach me a lot about life in general and when I reflect into a deeper spiritual aspect of daily circumstances, I gain further insight.

This morning, in the coolness of early temperatures under beautiful sunshine and blue skies, I watered a variety of plants on the west side of our home as they are still under shade until the sun moves and lights up the area. We’ve got a few shrubs, some perennials, ground cover and annuals across the front of the house. As I watered I could see where heat damaged a few of the plants. Some are missing flower buds thanks to a bunny or deer. Missing potential blooms makes me sad. Afterall, the reason for planting them was to add color to our home and for personal enjoyment. The shrubs are a bit misshapen due to deer munching on their branches. A couple annuals appear pushed up from level ground, maybe a mole or chipmunk. The butterfly bush always appears unscathed and has a perfect shape as its branches climb higher; our own pruning each year seems to be a key care factor!

Not to be ignored, are the perennial “weeds” that always show up each year. There’s plenty of wild carrots scattered among the plants. Poison ivy is relentless and pops up unexpectedly each summer. Thankfully, my husband has a keen eye for this unwanted vine and takes great care to rid it from our yard.

In John 15 beginning with verse one we read “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardner. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful”. Who is the true vine? It’s Jesus. In this parable He refers to the Father as the “gardner”, the one who tends to the branches on the vine. In application to you and me, God tends to our lives, too.

He desires for you and me to live and grow enjoying an abundant life. To accomplish this, He offers protection from the evils of the world by surrounding us with a hedge. He feeds and waters our spirits when we read scripture on a daily basis. When we begin to grow tired, spindly instead of well rounded fullness, He comes gently to prune away “dead” things that hinder healthy growth. Before “someone” or “something” can come along to snatch our joy, destroy what’s about to bloom in our lives, He offers protection. When we walk on unlevel ground, He’s quick to come alongside and gently nudge us back on a good path.

I’ve lost some plants this year. Some annuals didn’t make it either by my own doing, weather, or critters. Others, like the tomato and cucumber plants appear to be thriving, covered with blooms that will turn into luscious fruits in the coming weeks. Their ability to grow and flourish makes me happy. Periodic watering along with checking for bugs who enjoy eating vegetable leaves, is crucial to their success.

Staying connected to God is vital for you and me. This is why reading and studying scripture regularly is important and although doing so enriches us personally, what we read and learn is the task of telling others about Christ. Research shows that almost 57% of Americans do not attend church on a regular basis. While I might assume that our pastors would love seeing every pew or chair filled every Sunday, the greater desire is that more and more people come into a relationship with Christ. Each believer becomes a number in man’s eyes, but to God every person walking in salvation has their name written in the Book of Life. (Revelation 20:15) God’s goal isn’t to fill churches with people merely to offer bragging rights regarding attendance; His desire is far greater with the filling of His Kingdom with redeemed souls.

Plants suffer fate due to a variety of conditions. Some bloom even though they’ve gone through stress. Some fight for space among unwanted weeds or other overgrowth. Others display damaged leaves from being munched on. Most will survive and offer vibrant colorful blooms until their season comes to an end. People are resilient, too. Many of us have lived through tough seasons, losses of family or jobs, unexpected attacks when our guard is down. This is why we all need Christ. We all need His Father. Both offer a world where we can choose to be connected with them and reap the benefits of being cared for by a faithful shepherd. 

Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners–of whom I am the worst. (1 Timothy 1: 15)

Who are the sinners? Every person from time’s beginning, present, and future. In God’s math that’s 100%, yet according to man’s statistics, over half of Americans have or continue to reject Christ. That’s a loss that bears attention and great care no matter the cost.

4TH OF JULY, A LETTER 

Dear Dad:

In our great nation of 50 states–America–we will celebrate 250 years of “freedom”, commemorating the American War of Independence many years ago in pursuit of being released from British rule. It seems being taxed heavily without having a ‘voice’ regarding its revenue rubbed early inhabitants of our beautiful country the wrong way. Many hard and gruesome battles were waged, yet strong and determined men–many of them mere teenagers–fought valiantly and in harsh conditions to gain victory for a passion woven by deep threads of unity in their hearts, minds, and souls. Much has changed in a young country established as a sovereign nation who founded herself with a Declaration of Independence penned by a committee of five men and later signed by 56. Thus, America was birthed and began further growth and establishment among great nations of the world at that time … .and much has changed.

Today, I’m imagining writing a letter to my dad whose been gone since 2012. At age 90 he lived through his own hard years, the Depression Era, World War II and the Korean Conflict. Either of those events could have claimed his life. Thankfully he escaped severe sickness and even death. Reflecting on his life–and the life of America–has me wondering the depth of conversation we’d have regarding his experiences in America compared to these mere past 13 years he’s been gone, where admittedly, indeed much has changed and in full disclosure–not everything has been in a positive direction.

As July 4 rolls around for the 250th time since the first celebration of being severed from British rule, although parades and fireworks abound from coast to coast, is it possible that hot dogs in backyard barbeques, sparklers in the waving hands of children, businesses open as usual on this grand holiday detract from the significance of this day that I believe was a miracle in the making? 56 men embraced being courageous by signing a document that resulted in them being designated as “treasonists” by the British Crown,  with most of them ending up living in poverty from having their property and estates destroyed during the conflict.

Dad, I fondly remember how you loved singing all the great patriotic songs that have been composed about America. “America the Beautiful” was one of your favorites. I remember being taught this song in grade school, too. This and songs like it were a major part of our music curriculum. Until today, I did not know it was originally a poem written in 1893 by Kathleen Lee Bates after she had taken a trip to Colorado and had climbed Pikes Peak. Imagine her awe and wonder as she gazed across such beauty. Thankfully, her verses tell us of the majesty and beauty captured by her eyes. Sadly, dad, I’m not sure these patriotic songs are being taught in music classes now. 

And how about our national anthem, dad? Written in 1812 by Francis Scott Key as a poem after his witness of a 25 hour bombardment against Fort McHenry by the British, he saw our flag still flying amidst the ashes of battle. It’s a song that has been sung with many variations at all kinds of events, remains revered by most Americans, yet within a few recent years, deeply disrespected as though honoring the legacy of America’s history outweighs freedoms July 4th ushered in for all fortunate to be alive….Sadly, dad, I’m not sure our children know all the words to our anthem.

I can still see you when your hand was placed over your heart when the anthem was part of an important event. In addition, there’s memories of learning the Pledge of Allegiance that I recited every morning in grade school. By junior high this practice disappeared. Until today, dad, I didn’t recall that the pledge we now recite originated in 1892, composed by a Baptist minister, Francis Bellamy.  Go figure, dad, a ‘man of the cloth’, who was trained and educated to serve one God and one kingdom, penned words in support of being in full support of America. The pledge had a few revisions to it, and in 1954 President Dwight Eisenhower encouraged Congress to include “under God” in the wording. Wow, dad, I was one year old when he did that. Now, at age 72, I wonder if all our school children are being taught the pledge let alone reciting it to jumpstart a new school day.

As you can see and read, I’d have a lot to talk to my dad about regarding July 4. By no means am I an adequate student of American history. Thank goodness for easy access to online research using internet resources to revisit topics and facts that have long escaped my memory from all teachers tasked with instructing me on American history, leaning heavily on emphasising tremendous dangers and sacrifices by brave men and women to give us a great nation–not perfect by any means–yet still a country that people from other parts of the world still want to come for a chance to thrive and live in a style of “freedom” that once was foreign to many and now at great cost by those who take advantage of its benefits.

But, dad, as much as you and our family enjoyed many 4th of July celebrations together, there is but one kind of “freedom” that overshadows that which was gained by over 25,000 American deaths. With One death, about 2,000 years ago, One man crucified on a cross, gave His life with shedding of blood that dripped down a beaten and tortured body, so that mankind could be “free” from sin’s penalty. He didn’t choose to enter the battle. He did so under great pain of obedience. He accomplished a promise and new covenant spoken by His Father. 

Thousands of hymns and songs have been written honoring His accomplishment. For many years churches, schools, universities, military choirs have sung these great compositions. Sadly, dad, our halls of great learning are becoming a different kind of quiet as the secular approach to instruction has pushed God out of daily instruction. Is it possible, dad, that our “one nation under God” can prevail? I wish you were here to encourage me that it can, if we were to humble ourselves before Almighty God and seek Him rather than the desires of our own selfish motives, we stand a chance of prevailing.

Dad, thank you, for teaching me about being a patriot, loving an imperfect country, but above all, surrendering my life to an ALL PERFECT God, the One Who had His eyes on brave men and women 250 years ago….the One Who watched as His Only Son carried out your plan of salvation for mankind. Even when I don’t understand what I see and hear in today’s headlines regarding America, I still have hope. Even when I don’t comprehend what I perceive as God’s silence in all of our struggles, I am grateful for my freedom…first and foremost that which comes from God…and secondly from a 250 year old concept birthed in the minds of brave men and women.

Dad, part of me longs for my childhood days when I sat on your lap, ears covered, to be shielded from the loud fireworks display we enjoyed as a family. Now, I long for the day we will be united in heaven where we will sing worship songs together, honoring Christ. Hopefully we’ll get to belt out a rendition of “America the Beautiful”, too. Somehow I don’t think God will mind…

FATHER’S DAY & GOD’S GREAT LOVE FOR YOU

Happy Father’s Day to all the men who are in this role as a parent whether you’ve had children of your own, through adoption or blended family, even mentoring through many programs that target improving the lives of our most valuable resources–our children.

You’ve read many of my articles which have highlighted memories and insight I hold dear to me regarding my own earthly father. I was blessed and fortunate that God gave him to me and wired him to be gentle, loving, kind, faithful to my mother and our family. He possessed a work ethic to be admired and a love of country often reflected by his wanting to sing all the patriotic songs when we were together as a family, especially as age and dementia robbed him in his later years. In fact, as a tribute to him at his funeral, we sang “America the Beautiful” as one of the songs, a favorite of dads. I have nothing but good memories when I think about my dad.

Yet, sitting here this morning to write about Father’s Day, I cannot acknowledge that not everyone has had or is in a healthy relationship with an earthly father. The fallout of a disjointed or broken relationship  often reflects how one views God, making it difficult to refer to Him as “Father”, seeing Him as a good good Father versus one who is always angry or one who seems cold and distant, not interested in a hurting child or adult’s life. Nothing could be further from the truth. And to understand God’s deep affection as a Father we need look no further than the Lord’s Prayer.

In this prayer that Jesus taught to His disciples, He began with two words…”Our Father.” With the help of a teaching from a favorite ministry site–”Walking the Text”*–I unpacked some key takeaways that gave me deeper revelation about this prayer most of us know and which is used in churches worldwide. 

The word “our”–as used here–is communal in meaning, indicating that “we” join God and others when we say “Our Father”. We enter a much bigger story than merely our own. God invites us into His story which involves over 8 billion people around the world.

Furthermore, God is for all people. “Our Father” is family language. It’s intimate. The Jews in Jesus’ days would have understood this language. They had the Old Testament scriptures that established understanding this intimate relationship. In the Book of Exodus we read the account of Moses being sent to Pharoah by God to get His people out of slavery. Moses was instructed to tell Pharoah “This is what the Lord says: Israel is my firstborn son, and I told, “Let my son go, so he may worship me.” Later, Matthew recorded the events when Joseph took Mary and Jesus to Egypt to escape Herod’s murder plot against the Christ child. “Out of Egypt I called my son.”  In a passage from Isaiah Jews would have read “but you are our Father, though Abraham does not know us or Israel acknowledge us you, Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer from old is your name.”

So, there’s a lot going on when Jesus instructs us to pray daily the Lord’s Prayer, opening our time with God by addressing Him as “Our Father”. Though we cannot “see” God we need look no further than Jesus in order to comprehend who He is for us. John recorded for us Jesus’ own words: “If you really know Me, you will know my Father as well. From now on, you do know Him and have seen Him.”  Later, in Hebrews we read “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His being, sustaining all things by His powerful word….”

Maybe you have or had a wonderful earthly father like me. Perhaps the opposite is true. But this is what I know…God IS a good good Father and whether you were born into a family of faith, came into relationship with Him late in life, or you’re still questioning His goodness because of deep hurt and preconceived thoughts, He is still for you and not against you. You can be part of His story, too. All it takes is a humble and willing heart to step out of pain or anger, into His circle to hear of His deep abiding love for you as expressed by the psalmist in chapter 2. “I will proclaim the Lord’s decree: He said to me, ‘You are my son; today I have become your father.” (vs. 7)

I love when scriptures connect the dots..from old testament accounts and prophecy…to the very lips of Jesus sitting as He taught His disciples a new way to pray, relying and bringing to their minds  old truths familiar to each one of them.

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*I relied on a teaching on The Lord’s Prayer from the ministry “Walking the Text”. You can find them on YouTube. I highly recommend their team of teachers who bring scripture to life in ways that expose the depth behind contexts too often overlooked or misunderstood. 

SAWDUST MEMORIES

Ah, the arrival of hot sticky summer days and evenings is one of those changes in Michigan seasons that awaken more memories from my childhood. Dad arrived home from work promptly at 5:15 pm and the five of us sat down to supper no later than 5:30. There was no central air conditioning in the house, mom moved a floor fan from room to room to help cool her daily tasks. On extremely hot days we often ate our evening meal in the breezeway which afforded some relief from heat. After eating, most nights you’d find my dad out in the garage working on some “project”. That was his workspace for power tools and more importantly, an escape from any stresses that built up during his work day as the chief building inspector for the City of Saginaw.

With the garage door open, table saw or other smaller power tool humming along, his quiet constant whistle accompanied whatever buzzing sound came from his variety of woodworking tools. The openness of the garage allowed him to see any of numerous kids riding by on bikes, others out for a walk around the block, neighbors mowing lawns. Sometimes one of the youngsters would pop in to say hello to him, ask some silly questions and bounce along, returning to their bike or walk. On one particular evening dad’s work was interrupted by a pair of young men out canvassing for their church. The question they posed to my dad was “do you think God has ‘anything’ to do with what’s going on in the world?”

Dad was quick on his feet, always. Whether a person needed some spontaneous wit or a word of encouragement, he was your man. Therefore, there was no long hesitation to give these guys an answer. “Anything?”, dad repeated. “Well, He has “everything” to do with our world.”  I remember their awkward long pause. Apparently their cheat card didn’t tell them how to respond to such a simple statement.

Maybe you’ve pondered the same query that “anything” and “everything” pose to us regarding God’s role in the world. This conversation my dad had took place in the 60s and by then I was finishing my junior high school years, old enough to see for myself all the changes taking place in our nation such as:

  • 1964 Civil Rights Act Passed
  • 1964 Beatles Arrive on the Scene
  • 1968 Martin Luther King Assassinated
  • 1969 Moon Landing & Woodstock Festival make headlines
  • Viet Nam War Rages

From my own viewpoint, every daily headline in the Saginaw News was of great significance. Indeed, the 60s brought about a lot of change, yet nothing then or now came as a surprise to God. Not once has He ever wrung His hands and whispered “well, I didn’t see that coming”. 

Paul writes in Colossians 1: 16 “For in Him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” Who is Paul writing about here? That person is Jesus Christ.

Whether we are contemplating nature, other countries, kings and presidents, other people groups, Jesus is part of it all. Those things we see and cannot see, He’s in it. Those rulers and presidents you dislike? He’s over them, too. And though circumstances might look very chaotic? He’s actually holding them together. I take great comfort in that fact as I have given too much energy scratching my head or wringing my hands with deep worry regarding current events in our country.

I need to remember the soft comforting sound of my dad’s whistle as he putzed in the garage. Working with his hands gave him an outlet to express his artistic side while relieving stress. Anytime I smell clean sawdust, I can see him cutting boards, sweeping the garage floor before closing the door and retiring for the evening. By the 60s, dad had lived and served through World War II and later the Korean Conflict. His government had sent him around the world facing some horrible times before peace came and he returned home safely. It’d be years before he shared some of his experiences that could have ended his life.

Yes, a pleasant soft whistle. Hot summer evenings. Open air flowing through the garage. An occasional visitor to interrupt his time, always welcomed with a warm smile and kind truthful answers to life’s serious questions. Because life can be hard, but with God in it all, everything is good and running according to plan

DAILY BREAD, LIFE’S STAPLE

Drive down any country road now and chances are you’ll see recently popularized “small farm stands” in a front yard close to a homeowner’s driveway. These quaint cute structures come with all kinds of pretty motifs to attract our eyes…some are rudimentary in nature while others are quite lavish. Neatly arranged shelves are offering homebaked goods–primarily sourdough breads–jams and jellies, farm fresh eggs. There’s no need for the stand to be “manned” with someone to collect money, today’s technology which says “there’s an app for that” has taken out all manner of inability to pay without cash. Venmo QR codes neatly posted on a piece of stationery eliminates person-to-person payment. Grab what you want from the stand, pay via using your smart phone and be on your way! All that’s truly left in the mix is complete honesty to pay for what you’re taking. In other words, the good ole honor system.

Who doesn’t like bread? I know that I do. I grew up with a mother who didn’t  enjoy making bread, however, a fair share of wonderful small bakery owners benefited from her regular weekend visits. A favorite was Miller’s Bakery on State Street in Saginaw. Mom could purchase a variety of rye or pumpkernickel breads along with a standard loaf of white. Or, she could buy Spatz’ bread at our local grocery store. This latter bakery is still in business in Saginaw. The original building looks much the same as it did in the 50s and 60s; the recipe hasn’t changed nor the waxy paper that holds each precious loaf. If you haven’t eaten a slice of Spatz bread you haven’t lived. Toasted or made into a sandwich–the best is egg salad or a BLT–your taste buds will explode. Soft at first, if not used within a few days, you best turn it into a bread pudding as its moisture has slowly dried out or create a french toast breakfast. No one wanted their Spatz bread to go to waste, it was too good.

Reading through the gospels we find a few instances where Jesus miraculously fed thousands of people with only a few loaves of bread. A couple of times He had several fish, too. Before “breaking” the bread, He held it up and thanked His Father for providing it, and then had the disciples distribute chunks of the blessed meal to the people. Men, women and children each were fed and I have to believe their bellies were adequately filled. If providing a meal to thousands of people isn’t enough of a miracle, further reading of these accounts mentions that the disciples “gathered the leftovers, filling baskets”. No reason or explanation is given as to why there were portions of bread left unwanted. Furthermore, no indication if the bread was kept for another day or used up within a day or two.

In the Lord’s Prayer, we are instructed to ask God to “give us this day our daily bread”. Why would that phrase have resonated with the disciples and other Jews?  Jesus was purposefully triggering their minds to remember when God delivered their ancestors out of Egypt and when the people cried out to God for food He gave them “manna from heaven”. The children of Israel ate manna for 40 years! Manna was a supernatural provision which sustained them while wandering in the wilderness. (Exodus 16: 35) There was one strong stipulation about the manna; they were told not to store it, gather it daily in the early part of the morning when it appeared on the ground, eat and do the same every day.  Those who disobeyed soon found out that stored manna was a breeding ground for worms as well as rotting.

Their hoarding was an act of disobedience. Daily manna taught the importance of relying on God for daily provision rather than hoarding for the future. 

Jesus “broke” a few small loaves of bread to feed hungry people. The next time His twelve disciples witnessed another “breaking of bread” under supernatural circumstances was during their last supper together. Up until this time they’d heard Jesus refer to Himself as the “bread of life”, His miraculous feeding of thousands with leftovers, and now, using “bread” to establish an allegory to describe His broken body which would be crushed under the weight of crucifixion, all events they had no comprehension of as they reclined around their passover meal.

At the end of Jesus’ last meal with His closest friends, many shared experiences from about three years of ministry filled their minds. Bread–an important staple in their diets”–has gone from filling thousands of bellies with miraculous assistance to becoming a symbol to remember Jesus’ broken body. It was a command that now became an opportunity for obedience. Just as they gathered up “leftovers” on hillsides, now they would become voices of the gospel message, telling others about remembering Christ when “breaking bread”.

The next time you sit down to enjoy a truly great slice or hunk of bread, take a few moments to thank God for all that He provides. A variety of common ingredients of wheat or rye, mixed with yeast and water, shaped and baked into small or large loaves, is a delicious addition to any meal. Breathe in delectable aromas of freshly baked bread just out of the oven. More importantly, as you bite into your lil slice of heaven, thank the One who gives us daily bread…over and over again. 

Sometimes there’s leftovers. That’s God’s bounty. That’s evidence of His ability to provide. 

PERSPECTIVE, WHAT’S YOUR VIEW?

Perspective. A mental view or outlook.

Recently my husband and I attended the funeral for one of my oldest cousins who passed away at the age of 88. Otto was born and raised in Millington and remained in that community his entire life, worked a variety of jobs and enjoyed many hobbies. His funeral was held in the church he attended all his life, St. Paul Lutheran and he was buried in the church’s cemetery nearby. Since we were in that area which is very close to Otter Lake, the last home where my grandparents lived, we took time to drive past the house where many childhood memories were created on Sunday afternoon visits. In contrast to living in the city, their country home offered trees to climb, berry bushes to pick ripened fruit, chickens to feed, kittens to cuddle, endless outdoor games playing with cousins. 

Driving past the house evoked all those memories, but they got tangled up in the disappointment of its present day condition. Gone are the fruit trees. The front yard is overgrown now with shrubs and tall grass. Old cars and a broken down travel trailer made for a sadly adorned front lawn. The lone garage door is crooked on its tracks. A house once teeming with energy and laughter, both wrapped in tremendous love and joy, is gone. And, a reality I had held on to for many years was also gone. As a child, I had always told people “how far back off the road the house sat”. Now, as an adult, I recognized that perception was not true. The house is much closer to the road than I originally thought. My ability to judge distance was skewed by childish measurements along with my grandparents admonishing us kids to never play near the road which stemmed from a tragic accident in the 40s which claimed the life of an older cousin.

So, my recent visit to their last home is giving me a good lesson on perspective.

Things are not always as they appear and life has many opportunities from which to learn and grow. Therefore, I made a quick investigation into scripture to see if God has anything to offer us regarding perspective. No surprise here, He does.

I found three very good takeaways. First, perceiving how we can view life. Proverbs 3: 5-6 says “ Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight”. Our commands given here are to “trust”, “lean not”, “submit”. The benefit of doing so is a “straight path”.

Secondly, a good perspective in life when we face trials and suffering comes from James 1: 2-4. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything”. It would never be my intention to underplay anyone’s suffering; I’ve had my share of trials and hardships. Life is hard at times and some experiences–those that are most painful– are beyond our control. How we respond comes from the ability to stand firm or cave to pressures. Once again, I think back to my Grandma Jewell whose last months of life were under the care of a nursing home as her body battled bone cancer. Often, in deep pain, she could hear other residents crying under the weight of their own suffering, and from the depths of her compassion for others, instruct the nurses to care for others first over her own needs or ask “do they know Jesus….” so she could pray for comfort and salvation.

Lastly, perspective points to thoughts of eternity. Colossians 3 1-2 describes it this way: “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.” Once I came to fully understand the concept that Paul writes about here, it allowed me to coin a phrase I’ve often used to weigh the heaviness of situations. “In the light of eternity, will ‘this’ matter?” That simple question has saved me from many worrisome nights or agonizing over things out of my control. 

So, even though I feel sad regarding the disarray of my grandparents’ home in Otter Lake, I’m thankful for 14 years of memories with every Sunday visit, meals at their table prepared by a grandmother who cooked and baked during the week anticipating several of her children’s families to be at her table and spill into the living room of their modest home. I’m grateful for her example when facing death, for she had learned at a very young age to adopt the wisdom of Proverbs commands. Grandma Jewell trusted, she leaned on God during everything in life, and she accepted the path God laid down for her. Her path had sorrows, pain, and a fair share of disappointments I’m sure,  but true to her nature, she spoke mostly of life’s joys and hope, her hope in Jesus…and always with a twinkle in her eyes.

I think she’d be very sad to see, now, how her modest home in Otter Lake has become compared to the vibrant years she and Gramp tended to. Yet, more importantly, she’d wonder about the people living inside its concrete walls  and ask, “do they know Jesus?” 

BLOOM WHERE YOU’RE PLANTED

Before the current return with these much cooler temperatures we are experiencing–still calling our furnace to run, warming our home–enjoying sunny warm days prior to this week allowed for some outside yard work. Taking a few afternoons to work in short segments, I was able to rake debris, pull weeds, and locate perennial growth to ensure plants survived winter’s cold. In one area, after removing debris and weeds, I found a couple perennials that looked out of place and moved them for a more balanced “look”. I moved one plant from the west side of the house to the back, which gets morning sun.  I found hostas were crowding a columbine so that flowering plant was moved to an area next to the deck. As much as I would prefer more sun and higher temps, I’m watching these new transplants establish quickly to their new spots, perking up under recent gentle rains that fed their root systems. I’m still very much a novice gardner; I rely on learning from others who possess more knowledge than me or I search for advice via the internet. I learned years ago that moving a plant is beneficial. Though it will look tired and under stress, the presence of those actually causes the plant to fight for survival, driving its roots to action in order to survive. I can’t help but think I’ve experienced the same transition. I, too, was transplanted.

Our family moved from Saginaw to Fowlerville in 1989. A job opportunity came along for my husband that was much needed for us. We always thought we’d live our entire lives in Saginaw, raise our two children there, and retire. But God had other plans. Prior to our move, I was not familiar with Livingston County at all. I’d heard of Brighton. One of my aunts lived in Fenton for many years. When I told a childhood neighbor about our move he let me know he purchased a farm tractor in Fowlerville. These were the extent of what I knew about the county where we’ve now lived for 37 years.

Looking back over those thirty plus years I can definitely see God’s hand on my life when He picked me up and moved me 70 miles south of everything I had come to know. It was hard leaving behind our children’s two sets of grandparents and my husband’s elderly grandmother. We left a church family. I surrendered a 20 year banking career in order to begin my journey as a stay-at-home mom of our two young children. My husband was settled in his new job. We took occupancy of our home in January and by the end of February all our boxes were unpacked with everything put in place. On a cold wintry afternoon I found myself sitting alone in our living room, waiting for the school bus while our toddler son napped, suddenly wondering “what now?” Besides my husband’s employer, I knew absolutely no one. We’d been to a church in town for a few weeks with no connections made, other than a visit from the pastor to welcome us. For the first time in my life I felt truly alone and isolated. Like one of my transplants, I had a choice to make. Give up and into the dangers of isolation or take action. I chose the latter.

Within a few weeks following my afternoon alone in the living room I found a notice in the local paper about a Christian Women’s Club. Seeing that “free” childcare was an option–and much needed for a person like me with no friends to help–I jumped at the opportunity to swap comfy “mom” clothes to get “dressed” to be around other like minded women. This group became a lifeline for me and I formed several wonderful friendships that lasted a long time until the club disbanded.

At our church in town, the organist took a liking to me and invited me to a bible study that was composed of women from all ages and church backgrounds. We met every Wednesday to learn directly from scripture–no added curriculum–and prayed for one another’s requests. The wisdom and love I found in this group of women was nothing I had experienced in my Christian life. It was here that one of the older women told me her daughter lived around the corner from us who had a daughter the same age as ours, a possible playmate. Out of desperation I called to introduce myself and ask if a playdate could be arranged. The rest is a history of rich friendship between our families and although they’ve since relocated to South Carolina, we remain “tightly” knit together, sharing in life’s joys and sorrows.

After almost two years at the church in town we relocated to our current one, a decision that was difficult to make but necessary for the benefit of our spiritual growth. We quickly became more involved in ministry. We gained additional adult friends as well as our children’s ability to be around more kids their ages. As we became more established, I had the privilege to teach bible studies to women, be part of the worship team, attend retreats and send our kids to camp in the summer. All these activities took me away from the previous fear of being alone and isolated, to a thriving environment that nurtured not only me, but that of my family. Being a “newcomer” for a while in our new home also made me sensitive and aware when new families moved to our area, causing me to be intentional in saying “hello”  to “new faces” and several times I hosted small lunch dates in our home, inviting a new woman to meet some of my friends. I did this to help her begin her own process of being able to send her transplanted emotions and needs deeper and wider in order to thrive once again.

The Bible doesn’t have specific scriptures that define the common phrase “bloom where you’re planted” but there are those that reflect the image portrayed in “blooming”. Psalm 1: 3 says “They are like trees planted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season. Their leaves never wither, and they prosper in all they do”.  Who is the ‘they’? It’s those of us believers in God who don’t follow the advice of sinners, or stand around with them, or join in with mockers (verse 1).

What are the benefits of avoiding these kinds of people? We won’t wither. We will prosper. We will bear fruit in every season (verse 3).

So, was my sitting alone that cold wintry day a challenge? Definitely. Moreso, it became the very catalyst I needed in order to pursue an abundant life I could have missed out had I not found ways to step out of loneliness and discover the riches my newly found small town living quickly awarded me. As I said, that was 37 years ago and every year I maintain that “more of the best is yet to come!”