Spring Reflections

Among riotous spring colors, the song of birds and the noisy parenting of multiple duck families, I pause gratefully to welcome May from our patio along the Muddy Creek.

  I had purposed in April to post weekly of my rambling thoughts and simple rhythms of living.  As you may or may not have noticed, it didn't happen.  I fussed about this with my spiritual director in my April session, noting it would help if I scheduled hours in my week to sit and write, treating it as an appointment to keep.  I have written many a post in my head while jogging.  My musings are plentiful for those who care to listen.  But I've noticed these ideas don't write themselves.  With any project or goal, purging closets, cleaning up garden beds, ironing a stack of shirts, hosting a dinner party or losing weight as examples, you can't think it done. You have to do it.  Put in the time.  Work it out.  I must admit that I am a slow start at times.  I have to process the how, be sure of the why, make sure I'm convinced the sacrifice is worth it.  There are other times I jump into a project with a frenzy of energy.... but that is mostly for household chores.  So with renewed commitment to writing, I am scheduling Tuesday as my writing day.  Maybe not all day, but part of the day for sure.  It's a start.  What would you like to schedule to start?  The truth of the matter is, nothing will be different next month for either of us if we don't change what we are doing now.  

I picked up an old book of poetry at a yard sale on Saturday, published in 1931 by Robert Louis Stevenson, A Child's Garden of Verses.  The poems are delightful and I imagine someday reading them to another generation of little people.  This very short one conveys my heart of gratitude this day.

 

HAPPY THOUGHT

 

The world is so full of a number of things,

I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.

 

In spite of earthquakes and riots and other sad news, choosing thankfulness helps me reorient my perspective towards God's generous favor towards me.

 

As I think of what would go on my Happy List from the past month or so, these three come to mind.

 

1.  I enjoyed a four day get-away with four women, all married to pastors, in sunny Stuart Beach, Florida in March.  Delightful!  We talked and talked some more then prayed for one another.  There were tears and laughter.  We learn much from each other, four different decades represented in our ages, as together we wrestled with the questions we have in our journeys of faith and ministry .  I also learned not all sushi is raw fish.  Who knew? 

 

 

2.   I am grateful for a joyful Easter celebrated with all of our children present in our worship at New Life Fellowship.  Whenever we can be all together I am one happy mamma!

 

 

After church we gathered at my parents' home for the traditional ham dinner.  My brothers, their families, my aunt and the five of us make a noisy crowd at the table but the introverts among us are used to it and we savor the traditions of story telling, gentle teasing, and lots of food.

 

 

This is my beautiful niece, Caitlyn, who helped me get started in blogging and who bales me out of the technical difficulties I get myself into.

 

3.  I am grateful beyond words for the rebuilding of our creek side patio wall.  This winter the freezing heaved the rocks down the bank. 

 

 

You can see there was no way Kevin was going to put these boulders back in place.

So we bit the financial bullet and put in a retaining wall and now our patio perch along the creek looks like this

 

It is a peaceful place to be still and know God. 

 

A few days ago I finished a book by John Ortberg called Soul Keeping. 

In it he challenges readers with this discipline,

 

 "How many moments of my life can I fill with conscious awareness of and surrender to God's presence?" 

 

 It is a good practice.  I don't have it mastered.  There are too many hours in my life that I am not filled with awareness of God's presence.  But I work at it.  I ask the Holy Spirit to  prompt my remembering.  And when my stove dies (it did last week), or the car just stops (it did for Kevin two weeks ago), or someone I care about gets bad news (it happened on Tuesday), I have to ask God for his peace, his perspective, or his comfort and walk on in a posture of trust.  Even when I can't see the "how" or understand the "why", I rest in knowing I am never without his Presence, his power or his provision every hour of my life. And this patio by the creek is a grand place to sit and soak in that understanding.  

 

 The flowers of Spring are food for my soul.  Perhaps a short tour of my backyard will delight yours as well.

 

Pink Bleeding Heart with Forget-Me-Nots in background

Sugar peas are growing nicely in the raised beds Kevin made for me last summer.  In front of them are the candy onions I planted this spring and the garlic planted last fall.  In the background are some tulips in my Easter garden.  It's where I plant the lilies and tulips that are gifted to me by my children and others in Easter seasons past.

The ferns ready to unfurl their fronds!

 

Lenten Rose.  I found this at the New Holland Re-usit shop.  Someone must have been thinning their beds!

 



 

  

"Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.  Praise the LORD."
Psalm 150:6

Whisper, Tale of a Winter Butterfly

Monday morning I woke to the sound of a bird singing.  It's tune was hopeful and brought a sleepy smile to my face.  In bird language it announced the assurance of Spring on its way!  It was gray outside and the schools were on a two hour delay due to the snow and freezing rain of the night before.  The bird didn't know his song should delay because his Creator wired his rhythms and it was time to sing.  Little did I know, something else was stirring!

After a Skype call with Maria (who was in Nepal on business) at noon, Kevin noticed that one of my chrysalis' had birthed a black swallowtail butterfly.  I was thrilled...... then panicked.  It is COLD and March and not a thing blooming!  What does one do with a butterfly that hatches too soon?  I posted to Facebook this question and my cousin Ed suggested the place to start was a name!  I call him Whisper, because today Spring whispered a promise to me in birdsong and a butterfly birthday.  Life is seasons and rhythms and moments marching on, offering us treasures if only we notice.  Now I have a name for the butterfly in a hurry. 

 

I put the jar containing his roommate chrysalis in the  cold garage hoping to stay another premature birth. I put an orange quarter in a saucer for its sustenance. I learned from my internet research that I can feed a butterfly Gatorade, fruit juice or sugar water (boil and cool ten parts water to one part sugar).  Soak a cotton ball or paper towel in one of these solutions and feed the butterfly.   It advised me to protect the butterfly from hot light bulbs.  Good idea.  I wonder how long he will live in my house this winter.  Their lifespans are short, usually a few weeks.  But the miracle of caterpillars and cocoons and butterflies thrill me.  And while I would have preferred he birthed at a time when he could be released to the sky, I am treasuring his beautiful wings and these thoughts he inspires.

Though it is my oversight, storing the chrysalis in a warm kitchen, his too soon emergence reminds me that I often hurry the time in cocooned waiting, impatient for the next thing, the promise of new freedom or adventure or seasons.  I hear God whisper, "Wait for my timing, Daughter-of-mine.  Trust me in the season of preparing.  Be present in the now!"  Our Lord Jesus is not hurried in the way He works in our lives.  He takes His time and makes all things beautiful according to His design and purpose for each one of us.  Jesus delights in our journeying with Him, us keeping in step with His Spirit and the opportunities He gives us to observe, participate and grow. 

My butterfly clings to the sunny window, fluttering against it as it tries to fly to the sky.  It knows where it belongs, flying free, doing what butterflies do.  Instead, it has to settle for my feeble attempts to give it an imitation life. 

I hear God whisper, "Don't settle for the imitation life this world offers.  You will wear out your wings looking for meaning in things that don't satisfy. Your longing for delight, abundance and purpose is only found in Me.  Find Me and you will find your life!"  

I can enjoy  the comforts my western culture say are necessary, a perfect family, career and financial success, a wonderful wardrobe, a beautiful home, status, position, influential friends...but my soul will suffocate with too many demands, too much to prove and no time to breathe.  Even though I have provided my butterfly with an amaryllis in bloom, a sunny window, fresh squeezed orange juice served in a pretty blue dish and protection from the elements, he still longs for something.  His fluttering at the window tells me that he knows he was meant for more.  It is distressing me and tears are puddling in my eyes as I am typing for I hear his wings beating against the windowpane.  I hate that I robbed him of his true life.

What sadness God must feel, when we trade His wonderful gift of life for fool's gold.  Jesus cautions me in Luke 12:15 to be on guard against all kinds of greed; saying "a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions."  The Message states Jesus invitation in Luke 12:31 this way, "Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions."  My longings will be satisfied only in relationship with Jesus Christ.  Psalm 46:10 invites, "Be still, and know that I am God."  From that place of relationship I am free to become who I am to be .  Accepted and beloved.  My soul breathing with freedom to play and explore this wonderful gift of life.

I recently finished devouring another book, A Million Little Ways by Emily P. Freeman. You can find more about her here at her blog, Chatting at the Sky. My copy of the book has page corners turned down, highlighted sentences, my responses jotted in the margins...it is as if she wrote the book looking inside my head at the wrestling matches I have with myself and God.  Freeman eloquently reminds me that,

  "You are made in the image of Creator God and carry his Holy Spirit with you wherever you go.  You are a poem written inside the person of Christ and exist to carry out his inner desire.  You are an image bearer and you have a job to do."


I have a job to do.  You have a job to do.  Fill up with Jesus, pour out meager offerings and watch God multiply for His glory and to our delight.  Life!

A few weeks ago I was reading Luke 13:18-20, Jesus' describing the kingdom of God.  I was inspired to compose a poem like I used to in elementary school,  Haiku-style:

The Kingdom Of God

 

 Seed and yeast offered

To God becomes boughs and bread

Refreshing many.



 

Itty-bitty things, unassuming and small, when offered  to God with a  little faith become encouragement to the weary worlds we occupy. Not because of us but God through us.  I'm learning this rhythm of offering my words, my smile, my strength.....me...... to God to use for the ones He places in my ordinary life without needing to worry about outcomes, results, success or lack thereof.  In this place, being an image bearer of God with a job to do, I can flourish and fly in the freedom God planned for me.  Not limping about in an imitation world of abundance,

but truly free!

 

 

 Free as this hawk Kevin, Maria and I watched soar above the treetops but below us or at our eye level from our vantage point at 9,000 feet in the mountain of the West Elk Wilderness in Colorado.  (Photo by Maria) Free, doing what hawks do,  their lives reflecting the glory of God!

May our lives be lived in freedom and abundance for God's glory and our delight!  How are you flying today?  What is your signature style of freedom in who you are?   

 





 



Winter Peace

I braved the wind chill yesterday and enjoyed a short walk along my creek.  The sun was brilliant but not much warmth trumped the artic blast.  I wanted to capture the frozen water topped with a dusting of snow.  I'm sure our creek has been frozen in  the twenty years we have lived along it's banks but I haven't imprinted it on my mind or recorded it with my camera. Yesterday I did.  It is beautiful.  This is what the creek looked like last week before the record breaking cold.

And this is what she looked like at 3:30 yesterday afternoon. 

And downstream.

"Silver white winters that melt into Spring....these are a few of my favorite things."

I watched a squirrel scamper across this log to the other side.

 
He was much too fast for my gloved hands operating the camera so you'll have to imagine it.  There were all sorts of footprints in the snow, not all of the human kind.  I think we should invest in a trail camera just to see what might show up down by the creek while we are sleeping.


I didn't last outside but about twenty minutes. My legs were feeling the cold right through my jeans. But I soaked in the stillness and peace of the wintry landscape.

 

  I will enjoy Spring as much as anyone, but the simplicity of winter speaks to my soul and I am savoring the views.

"In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength."  Isaiah 30:15

I love candlelight any time of the year, but on a cold winter evening it is most lovely. 

 

"Your word is a lamp to my feet (my present) and a light for my path (my future)."  Psalm 199:105. My thought in italics.

My mom had her right knee replaced on Monday. She suffered with pain for several years.  Seventeen months ago she had her left knee replaced with great results and it was time to tackle the other one.   I am privileged to be her advocate and support while in the hospital and now a coach and encourager while she recovers at home.  She is a compliant patient.  Mom doesn't fight the healing journey but surrenders to the work and trusts the process of physical therapy, pain management, good nutrition and rest.  She is an example to me of patiently waiting for healing while doing her part to facilitate it.  This example of trust applies to healing of all kinds, physical, emotional, mental or spiritual healing. We do our part and trust God to do His.  Her sense of humor is intact, also helpful in the healing journey.  It's a good idea not to take yourself too seriously.  She gave Dad and I some good laughs the first day at home as she was a touch loopy from the pain medication and lack of uninterrupted sleep.  She told someone on the phone that she likes people to be cheerful and was doing her part to help that day.

I am blessed to observe the devoted care my father gives my mom.  He is tender with her, carefully recording the times she gets her pain meds, applying the ice pack to her knee, listening for her at night if she needs anything, and preparing simple meals.  After 54 years of marriage, love gets deeper and sweeter.  They celebrated their anniversary on the 11th of February, five days before her surgery. 

I have been blessed to have been nurtured in the legacy of grandparents and parents committed to marriage, family and Jesus Christ and His church.  It is what Kevin and I are committed to living out for our children and the grandchildren we are praying over that are yet to come!

I finished one of my Christmas books this week. 

 

The one by Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow.  It is a gentle, thought-provoking and entertaining novel about the life story of Jayber Crow, barber and member of the Port William community written in his voice.  I will be reading more from this author. This is one of my favorite paragraphs from the novel,

"Now I have had most of the life I am going to have, and I can see what it has been.  I can remember those early years when it seemed to me I was cut completely adrift, and times when, looking back at earlier times, it seemed I had been wandering in the dark woods of error.  But now it looks to me as though I was following a path that was laid out for me, unbroken, and maybe even as straight as possible, from one end to the other, and I have this feeling, which never leaves me anymore, that I have been led."

Don't you just love the poetry of those words. And their meaning resonates deep in my spirit.  "For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose." the Word states in Philippians 2:13.  And Isaiah 46:3-4, "you whom I have upheld since you were conceived, and have carried since birth.  Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you.  I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you." says our God.  Sweet words to my soul!

I have enjoyed God's presence and beauty this week.  I hope you too are savoring your journey and mining the treasure in your life.

"You are an unceasing spiritual being with an eternal destiny in God's great universe." 

(painting by my brother-in-law, Jonathan Buch)

Learning Contentment

Something has begun to change in me as I have started thinking about my days in terms of what I could record in story form in this blog. There has been a shift in my viewfinder as I've lingered in thoughts and savored my "world", trying to articulate what matters to me.  I am experiencing a deeper contentment with my life.  But definitely not complacency as I have been stirred to imagine growing in many ways.  It didn't take long for me to notice this change as I've only published a handful of posts.  But my experience validated what a continuing education course I took in 2013 taught.  The Word of God also confirms what I've experienced.

For the past two years Kevin and I have dreamed about moving to another home with potential to realize some of our longings.  Kevin longs for a larger workshop for his woodturning, furniture making hobby.

  A property with room to stack his wood collection but not too big that he would have more yard care or maintenance.  That would take away from his hobby time.  He would enjoy an old farmhouse that he could build kitchen cabinets, add artistic wood trim, and reveal the natural beauty of wood to his hearts content throughout the place.  A house like that would be his artist's "canvas".  As for me, I think a fireplace would be the cat's meow for creating a cozy home with a huge gathering room for people plus a space for potential in-law quarters as needed. And trees.  A woodland would create the right environment for this girl. All of these dreams have had us looking at real estate advertisements, going for Sunday afternoon drives, imagining how we could finance our visions for the future.  Arranging and rearranging the possibilities.  We tried not to be discontent with our home but "The Dream" had us restless.   On our sabbatical last summer one take-away for me was to begin writing.  A dream of mine not dependent on fireplaces or woodlands.

I began spending time keeping company with Jesus, being still and meditating on Him and a section of the scriptures.  While the weather was warm and sunny I often sat outside.  I embraced slowing down, not hurrying thorough my days.  I tried to be mindful of moments, really seeing my surroundings, enjoying my health, family, friends and home.  I started to savor the view out my car window as I motored about going here and there. When I ran, I looked about with an eye as to what picture would capture my feeling that day.  My life began to unfold in my eyes like a story.  Our spiritual directors at Potters Inn would tell us that our life stories are sacred.  As they sat with us and asked us about our stories, actively listening, we sensed in a fresh way our belovedness to God.  Experiencing those moments of being heard confirmed in our hearts the importance of being with people and listening to their stories with empathetic hearts.  Sometimes that is enough for someone to take courage and go at life again.  Their pain (or confusion or joy or sadness or disappointment or hopes or dreams) was validated in the eyes of the engaged listener and it tells them they matter, they have been seen.

In my own fresh practice of savoring my life with appreciation and the lens of my little canon camera or smartphone something began to shift.  My satisfaction with my home grew.  Instead of being frustrated with my home's limitations I could appreciate what it offered us, warmth and sanctuary.

 Instead of longing for a rustic house in a big woods I notice how precious my view out the back of our house is to me, the creek that meanders through the fields and trees and sparkles in the sunlight.  This creek has provided hours of fun for our children; fishing, swimming, rearranging rocks, hunting crayfish.

 

  The Muddy Creek has been my friend for the past twenty years.  The sounds of water rippling over the rocks comes through our open bedroom windows during the summer, sending me off to dreamland.   I noticed how often I now thanked God for our third of an acre of paradise, grateful that He planted us here and ashamed that I had valued the gift so little. Writing and illustrating (in a limited way) what is happening in my life these days has released in my soul an deeper love for my Jesus, my family and friends, my church, my home....my life.  It is an extravagant gift. This abundant life I live has less to do with my possessions and more to do with my perspective.  Let me assure you that this continues to be a journey for me because I do appreciate possessions and comfort.

I remember what I learned at a conference in 2013 on Developing Positive Emotional Habits, sponsored by the Institute for Brain Potential and presented by Brian E. King, Ph.D. One of the emotional habits of happy people, he says, is reflecting on joy filled states of being, such as in making photo albums or scrapbooks or reminiscing with friends and family.  Dr. King stated that "When you tell a story about your life, it encourages you to live a better story."  As I understand this,  it is not that you are creating a fake person in how you present to the world, masks and all, but instead it is way of being in which you "strive to create positive hopes and expectations."  His words not mine in those quotation marks.  One of the interventions taught at this seminar is developing the habit of savoring.  It is the practice of looking about and noting the things you take for granted, being mindful of the good feelings these produce and thoroughly enjoying them.  Dr. King writes, " Happiness does not lie in the things themselves but in the relish we have of them." My experience in writing this blog gives witness to the change in my heart as I have become more focused on my present circumstances instead of living in longing for some future ideal.

I've been soaking in the gospel of Luke the past month and these words of Jesus have been reverberating in my soul.  I read from my beloved NIV then often reread the same words from The Message.

These are a smattering of phrases from Luke 12:22-32 that call us to savor what matters, to be fully present in our lives, in the paraphrased words of  The Message,

"Look at the ravens, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, carefree in the care of God.  And you count far more......Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers.  They don't fuss with their appearance-but have you ever seen color and design quite like it?......What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God's giving....Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You'll find all your human concerns met.  Don't be afraid of missing out.  You're my dearest friends!"

I am enjoying contentment deep in my soul....most days.  It is a journey I am on, this being present and responsive to God's daily gifts to me.  It is a satisfying place to live.

"Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need."

                        Sarah Ban Breathnack

 

Listening For My Name

A new year has unfolded before me and I finally have a day to catch my breath and linger in my thoughts.  The season of Christmas celebration was rich with family times,

worship services,

food and gifts,

 
I am grateful for every bustling moment filled with hugs, laughter, happy tears and the gatherings of loved ones.

  The rhythm of the seasons refresh me and I appreciate that the stark, black and white beauty of the winter months follow the faster pace of December.  These quieter months with the shorter daylight hours invite me to slow down, reflect and hibernate with my thoughts.  And a good book or two.  I received three books for Christmas. Happy me.

When I sit still with Jesus and His Word I've been paying attention to the words He spoke while walking this earth.  The red letter words in my NIV Bible.  And I wonder what His voice sounds like.  In John 20, verses ten to eighteen, the writer describes Mary wailing at Jesus' empty tomb in despair over His death and now missing body.  Jesus stands there and speaks to her but she doesn't recognize Him until He speaks her name.  Then she turned towards Jesus.  Then her despair becomes astonished joy and hope. This account consistently makes me wonder what my name would sound like spoken out loud by Jesus.  His Spirit does call to my spirit daily and He invites me to turn towards Him, to know His alive, active presence in all my life circumstances. But I look forward to hearing my name out loud from the mouth of Jesus. Can you imagine??

Jesus spoke the continents into being with His words.  He spoke hummingbirds and puffins and strawberries and aspens and zebras into being.  And when He knew me and my name, even before I was birthed, He spoke Melanie into being.  And each one of us.  

I love to hear the voice of Kevin saying my name.  Or Jeremy, Maria, Mechelle.  When my cell phone rings and there, on the other end of the line, is the voice of one of my loved ones, my soul sings.  And so I wonder what Jesus' voice sounded like when His human body walked this globe.  Was the pitch musical or raspy? Was His voice soft or firm or loud?  I imagine it firm but gentle, with a smile in its tone.  Medium to low in pitch.  Easy to listen to with an invitation to courage and believing.  When I pause daily to sit with Jesus, His "voice" reorients me to who I really am;  beloved and chosen, redeemed and forgiven, free and secure in Him.  No need to strive or work for favor.  I am His delight.  Each one reading this as a Christ follower is too. 

In 2015 I want to listen for my name as much as I call out His.  I want to savor His presence in quietness, in stillness.  Even though I know God is always with me, I want to enjoy being with him without an agenda, moments of simple togetherness.

 

In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength.
                                                  Isaiah 30:15

Treasure In An Attic

This week, on a rainy, raw Monday, I decided to begin a purging of our attic.  I was inspired by the days I spent helping my parents sort through fifty plus years of belongings before they moved into a smaller home this past summer.  Out of sight, out of mind is very true in this case.  When an unused toy, decoration, or treasure is squirreled away in a dark attic, there it stays until a moving day comes along and the dusty boxes require decisions to be made: keep it, give it away or throw it away. It's a huge job.  This burden of stuff.  But that will be for another discussion.

So Monday, in the spirit of traveling this life journey of mine with less baggage and for sharing the memories that might be hiding in my attic, I opened the attic door and took stock.  I saw boxes of Christmas decorations, a highchair and crib, Easter baskets, luggage and many boxes and bins holding toys and school memorabilia belonging to Jeremy and Maria.  I decided I would start with Jeremy's bins.  Since he and Mechelle have their own attic as homeowners, I would relinquish to them the keepers of his memories. 

Lugging bins downstairs, I found he had an elementary bin, a high school bin and a college bin. 

There was a box of trophies.

 

And a bin of greeting cards he received through the years.

 

  In this bin was where I lost myself a rainy Monday in November. As I sorted and read cards it became apparent to me that our son was the recipient of much love, prayers and nurture in the village that surrounded him through family, school, neighborhood and church.  I was overwhelmed with the blessing of this community.  Realization dawned that Kevin and I had so much support as Jeremy's (and Maria's) parents. The support we took for granted at the time, but now, with 20/20 vision looking in the rearview mirror and documented in the saved cards, it was undeniably influential in our lives as parents. 

I started sorting cards in piles.  The cards on top were the most recent and they included sweet ones from his then girlfriend, Mechelle--I didn't read them, well, not all of them...no surprises, just reminded me again what a treasure our daughter-in-love is to our son and to our family.  Sweet Love.

I found cards from Maria to her brother.  I was reminded of the special relationship they had growing up together.  They were a team.  They sometimes remind me that we brainwashed them.  We would tell them they have to work things out.... someday they won't have Dad and me but they'll have each other so, Be Kind!  And, with God working in their little hearts, they got it.  Now a team of three, they enjoy a love and friendship that runs deep in their souls.  Siblings are a treasure and our first opportunities to figure out how to live and love together.  Sibling love.

Another pile of cards grew quickly, those from the Grands.  The Grands are Jeremy's grandparents Horning and Martin.  He received cards on e.v.e.r.y holiday.  With cute pictures of bikes, deer, drums or fishing rods.

 

  Boy things.  But inside the cards, handwritten notes of love, pride in his choices, and encouragement for growing well. He had, and still has, such cheerleaders in the Grands.  These carefully chosen cards reflect the very active presence they had in Jeremy's life, his milestones and his accomplishments.  They attended concerts, sports activities, graduations, and blessed Kevin and I with countless hours of babysitting when the children were young. Jeremy is blessed as he still has their very active presence in his life.  So much unconditional love.

The next pile wasn't big but the weight of wisdom and love contained in the cards was pure gold.  This stack of cards was from the GreatGrands.  Jeremy was fortunate to know two great-grandfathers and four great-grandmothers.  He tells me his memory is sketchy and he doesn't know what he actually remembers of them and what is from pictures and stories.  But they knew and treasured his little life. My maternal grandmother, Grandma Good, wrote loving notes in her cards to Jeremy.  Words that reflected many years of faith in God and the joy in choosing to serve Him.

She faithfully prayed for my family and she and grandpa loved when we would drop "the children" off to play at their home while Kevin and I attended a Bible study or elder team meeting.  The wealth of collective life experience in the GreatGrands and their encouragement of our boy is a legacy cherished.  Ageless love.

The stack of cards from aunts, uncles and cousins grew. I recalled the countless hours Jeremy played with his Martin and Horning cousins.  He had a circle of playmates, rich in imagination and energy, to learn about give-and-take, sharing and negotiation.  All of it in the safe and secure boundaries of a grandparent's or aunt's and uncle's care.  Family love.

Their were greeting cards from next-door neighbors, coaches, his drum teacher and his schoolteachers.  Cards that expressed respect, encouragement and blessing.   Thoughtful notes of care were added to the pile from youth group leaders and Sunday School teachers. Then I noticed how many cards were added to the stack from his prayer partners from church.  Jeremy was privileged to have prayer support from two wise older men from New Life Fellowship, Luke Landis and Marty Longenecker.  Both men have since moved to heaven, but the notecards, the words of love and faith...I'm blinking back tears as I type.  These men would notice in the newspaper when Jeremy made honor roll and affirm him.  They encouraged his participation on our worship team at church as the drummer.  Jeremy knew they were praying over him daily.  Jeremy knew they cared about his life.  Community love.

I found cards from Kevin and me with handwritten words that barely captured the depth of love in our hearts for our beloved son.  We verbalized daily our love for him and were intentional in speaking out loud our pride and joy in his being.  Being our boy, our terrific teen, our son!  These colorful papers document our journey as his parents, celebrating the seasons in his life and our growing, deepening relationships  from dependent infant to independent adult.  More unconditional love.

More tears moistened my eyes when, at the bottom of the bin, I found the congratulatory cards sent to us on the birth of our bouncing baby boy.  I spied handwriting I recognized, handwriting I hadn't seen in awhile, from my Aunt Sherrill.  Aunt Sherrill had the gift for sending thoughtful notes and cards.  We had to say good-bye to her when Jesus took her home to heaven this past September, but her words speak to us still.  In the two page note to us, she quoted a blessing friends sent her on the birth of her son,

"May your precious gift from heaven always know the meaning of true happiness and laughter, companionship and love.  May you find that day by day your lives are richer too.  Because that precious little gift was sent by God to you."

Generations of love.

Jeremy learned about true happiness, laughter, companionship and love from all these people who so generously and kindly invested in his life.  And most assuredly Kevin and I have experienced the priceless joys of being Jeremy's parents, this precious gift from God.  But one thing is clear, each one of us had a choice as to how we would use our lives to invest in his.  We could choose to be present or absent, to speak words of life or words of death, to nurture or to destroy.  Sobering, this powerful influence we wield.

This bin full of memories reminded me of some very important things.  These cards represented to me ordinary people who chose to invest in an infant, then a child, then a teen, then a man (as well as his parents!). It reminded me that our words matter.  Our presence matters.  Our prayers matter.  The time we take to encourage and affirm, to mentor and to teach, to play, pray and listen matters.  When we invest a thread of our love in the tapestry that makes up an individual's life, we cooperate with God in His purposes for them.  I am overwhelmed with the wonder of it all. It is serious business, this loving one another.  I am reminded of the classic Christmas movie, "It's A Wonderful Life" and the discovery of the main character, George, that his life made a powerful difference in the outcome of other's lives.  We must leverage our influence in the lives of others for their good and God's glory.  People matter.  Stuff, not so much. 

"It's far easier to raise strong sons than heal broken men."  Frederick D.

Our son Jeremy is a good, kind, loving, giving, humble darling of a man!  I may be a bit biased (just a tad bit), but the investment into his life from the village around him is reaping huge dividends.  He loves Jesus, his wife and family with all of his heart.  He is a man of integrity.  He knows what the important things in life consist of...people and God Almighty.  Our roles as Jeremy's parents were easier because of those who invested in our son's life, supporting our parenting and speaking truth and grace over him.  I have a heart full of gratitude as I type these words. 

The Grands, Jeremy and Mechelle, Maria, and Kevin at the head of the table.

 

 



My attic is a little emptier.  But there is another bin of cards...our sweet Maria's bin of love, loaded with documentation of all those dear ones who invested in her life.....that will be for another rainy day.