Recently, I was perusing the Sunday paper and came across a question addressed to Ask Marilyn in the Parade Magazine. The question: "Is it really true that no two snowflakes are alike?" And her answer, "The answer is surely yes. But no two pigeons are alike, either. Or pickles or porpoises or anything else for that matter. For example, consider the human population, which is rapidly approaching seven billion. Do any of us look exactly alike? Nope--not even identical twins."
Wow. I stand in awe of a truly amazing God that literally created an infinite number of species infinitely unique. Who else could do that except a great big loving God?
Once, while traveling with my three year old through our neighborhood, we passed the pond that is in fact just a golf course water hazard. Ducks were swimming there. She looked over there at them, and she said, "Mom, look at that big giant ocean with those chickens in it." Big giant ocean? Chickens? Not quite. That pond is maybe an acre, if not less. With oceans covering more than 141 MILLION square miles of the earth's surface, she just told me that she has a pretty small view of the planet. And chickens? More than 10,000 species of birds inhabit the earth, and to her apparently they all look like chickens. Chickens! Really?
I was thinking about this conversation recently, and I realized that it's not just children that do this. I do it, too. The world is a great big place, but I've only seen a tiny part of it. In my mind, I know there's more out there (there has to be!) and yet, I'm content to think sometimes that my neighborhood represents the population of the planet. I have friends who travel the globe, pouring their lives and their pocketbooks into the lives of those less fortunate. Their stories are profound, and their pictures truly speak a thousand words. Downtrodden, poor, fatherless, all the things that I am not, and yet my tiny worldview keeps me from calling them what they are. I only have the words that I know, and this is what they sound like,
"Wow. You know someone who walks five miles a day to get water for their family?" I just walked across the room.
"You met someone who doesn't have any shoes?" I don't have any shoes that match this outfit.
"You hugged a child that has never met his mommy?" I need to remember to hug mine when she gets home from school today.
"What? What's that you say? There is no school?" And I'm praying that my baby will get in a class this Fall with some friends she knows.
Just typing these words make me sick. What a small, small view of the world I have!
The world is big, but my big giant ocean is right here in this neighborhood and all those chickens are the people who live next door to me. (Now that's a little ironic!) I may not be traveling around the world, but I can do my part right here, right next door. Opportunities are all around me. When I stop thinking of my surroundings as the big giant ocean and instead the small pond that it is, maybe I won't be so overwhelmed. Maybe instead of thinking of everyone else as a chicken I'll be able to identify the real chicken--me. It's time to get my ducks in a row.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
My First Last Time
Someone gave me a book right after I gave birth to my fourth child. The book, Let Me Hold You Longer by Karen Kingsbury begins by talking about the miracle of firsts: first smiles and teeth and baby steps, but quickly turns the message of the book into the memories of a lifetime of lasts...the last time her baby woke up crying, wanted to be rocked, etc. It ends with these words:
"I'll watch you leave and think how fast our time together passed.
Let me hold on longer, God, to every precious last."
Receiving this book at just five days post-partum, I quickly became a basket case of tears. I knew this child would be my last, and her name, Cari Jill, which literally means "Youth Flowing Like Water" reminds me every day of the precious gift that is her life. It's easy to wish away the moments, the days, the years as we yearn for a time when things will be easier, when our children will be more independent, or when we can finally realize the wishes that hover in our personal dreams. Cari Jill is just three years old, and truly I have treasured every minute. I give thanks to God everyday that he has allowed me to be her mother.
This week, however, I spent time with another mother, a mother who has just one child, a child dying of cancer. I was with this family the night before their son died, and all I could think was, "This is their last time to touch his hand, to hold him tight, to tell him that they love him." In a very real sense, this mother was holding on to what was literally going to be her "precious last." It was a very intimate and personal time, and I was an intruder. I wanted to take a picture of these two parents in the bed with their son, holding onto him for dear life while at the same time begging him to run into Jesus' arms. The dichotomy of the agony was riveting.
"I've watched you grow and barely noticed
seasons as they pass.
If I could freeze the hands of time,
I'd hold on to your lasts."
We are a society wholly focused on the firsts. We want to be the first-born, the first in line, the first place winner. In our quest to be first, we overlook the value of what it means to be last. And yet, here we are thanking God for this last time, a lifetime. What an honor and a privilege for me to be there at the last!
We know that this world is not our home, and although God has given us houses, and things, and CHILDREN even, they do not belong to us either. It all belongs to God, and our treasure is with him in Heaven. For my friends, the thing they loved the most, their only son, is there. He is in Heaven, and though they loved him here on earth, surely they can accept his new life in Heaven. Now, he is treasure there. Finding comfort in God's word, we read, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy , and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
Yes, their treasure is in heaven. Those words have new meaning for this family. And it was nothing short of pure privilege for me to hold onto them as they were holding onto their son and Jesus was wrapping his arms around all of us.
Although it was the last time we held this child on earth, I pray that God's grace will sustain this mother because it wasn't really her last time. Thankfully, God's kingdom is eternal. It has no beginning and no end. Last times are painful and full of sorrow. In 2 Corinthians 5:1, however, it says, "Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands." Perhaps that sorrow and that empty place left there by this child's passing will one day be replaced with the joy of the gift that was his life and the peace of knowing that he is with Jesus and that one day we will be too.
My first last time gave me new perspective on the events that shape a lifetime.
"I'll watch you leave and think how fast our time together passed.
Let me hold on longer, God, to every precious last."
Receiving this book at just five days post-partum, I quickly became a basket case of tears. I knew this child would be my last, and her name, Cari Jill, which literally means "Youth Flowing Like Water" reminds me every day of the precious gift that is her life. It's easy to wish away the moments, the days, the years as we yearn for a time when things will be easier, when our children will be more independent, or when we can finally realize the wishes that hover in our personal dreams. Cari Jill is just three years old, and truly I have treasured every minute. I give thanks to God everyday that he has allowed me to be her mother.
This week, however, I spent time with another mother, a mother who has just one child, a child dying of cancer. I was with this family the night before their son died, and all I could think was, "This is their last time to touch his hand, to hold him tight, to tell him that they love him." In a very real sense, this mother was holding on to what was literally going to be her "precious last." It was a very intimate and personal time, and I was an intruder. I wanted to take a picture of these two parents in the bed with their son, holding onto him for dear life while at the same time begging him to run into Jesus' arms. The dichotomy of the agony was riveting.
"I've watched you grow and barely noticed
seasons as they pass.
If I could freeze the hands of time,
I'd hold on to your lasts."
We are a society wholly focused on the firsts. We want to be the first-born, the first in line, the first place winner. In our quest to be first, we overlook the value of what it means to be last. And yet, here we are thanking God for this last time, a lifetime. What an honor and a privilege for me to be there at the last!
We know that this world is not our home, and although God has given us houses, and things, and CHILDREN even, they do not belong to us either. It all belongs to God, and our treasure is with him in Heaven. For my friends, the thing they loved the most, their only son, is there. He is in Heaven, and though they loved him here on earth, surely they can accept his new life in Heaven. Now, he is treasure there. Finding comfort in God's word, we read, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy , and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
Yes, their treasure is in heaven. Those words have new meaning for this family. And it was nothing short of pure privilege for me to hold onto them as they were holding onto their son and Jesus was wrapping his arms around all of us.
Although it was the last time we held this child on earth, I pray that God's grace will sustain this mother because it wasn't really her last time. Thankfully, God's kingdom is eternal. It has no beginning and no end. Last times are painful and full of sorrow. In 2 Corinthians 5:1, however, it says, "Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands." Perhaps that sorrow and that empty place left there by this child's passing will one day be replaced with the joy of the gift that was his life and the peace of knowing that he is with Jesus and that one day we will be too.
My first last time gave me new perspective on the events that shape a lifetime.
Steal, Kill, and Destroy?
I have written previously of our young friend dying of cancer. In the wake of what has been a particularly difficult week for their family, unanswered questions torture their souls. Why do some people have four healthy kids while we have just this one...and he's so sick? Why does it feel like God is healing everyone else's child while turning a blind eye to ours? Why? Why? Why? These questions are so perplexing because every time we see a sick person in the Bible crying out to Jesus for healing, he does it. I can't find a single example where Jesus turns a deaf ear or a blind eye to someone crying out for help. He was full of compassion and love. Even Lazarus, who died, Jesus eventually raised from the grave. Why isn't there an example where Jesus says to a friend, "I'm sorry. I just won't do it. "
I was thinking about these questions myself and talking them over with my husband one night after the kids had gone to bed. As I was pondering the implications, this is the verse that came into my heart: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10). This horrible cancer is doing all those things--stealing the very breath from his body, killing vital organs, and destroying healthy cells day by day. Quite obviously, Jesus did not mean "life" as you and I know it. Otherwise, he would certainly intervene and perform a miracle right here. We were praying for it, begging for it.
I began to think, "Maybe 'life to the full' doesn't necessarily mean a physically healthy life. Intellectually, I've known this all along, but experiencing first-hand what seems to be deafening silence from God was a realization that was hard to swallow. I had to follow up my study with this verse found in 2 Corinthians 5:16-17: "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." That's God's desire for our lives--eternal glory that surpasses anything we could imagine here on earth. And that's something that, try as he might, Satan will NEVER be able to steal, kill, or destroy.
I was thinking about these questions myself and talking them over with my husband one night after the kids had gone to bed. As I was pondering the implications, this is the verse that came into my heart: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10). This horrible cancer is doing all those things--stealing the very breath from his body, killing vital organs, and destroying healthy cells day by day. Quite obviously, Jesus did not mean "life" as you and I know it. Otherwise, he would certainly intervene and perform a miracle right here. We were praying for it, begging for it.
I began to think, "Maybe 'life to the full' doesn't necessarily mean a physically healthy life. Intellectually, I've known this all along, but experiencing first-hand what seems to be deafening silence from God was a realization that was hard to swallow. I had to follow up my study with this verse found in 2 Corinthians 5:16-17: "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." That's God's desire for our lives--eternal glory that surpasses anything we could imagine here on earth. And that's something that, try as he might, Satan will NEVER be able to steal, kill, or destroy.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
A Wrinkle In Time
I just realized how old I am. I'm 36. I have aged more in the last three years than I ever even thought possible. It sort of feels like the way my mind responded when I was pregnant. One day I discovered I was pregnant and thought to myself, "Wow. I look pretty good. I'm not going to be one of those women whose dresses begin to look like a tent full of balloons." Then, one morning I woke up to find that indeed, I was that woman. Four times that happened, and four times I was completely blindsided by the realization.
This morning, I was at home with my younger daughter, and we were playing with my iPhone camera. Since this particular device also has the option of turning 180 degrees, so that a person can take a picture of herself while holding the camera I thought it would be fun to upload a new Facebook profile picture. Shock and awe are the two words I would use to describe my reaction when I saw the photograph I took. Fine lines and puffiness around my eyes and deep lines across my forehead. When did this happen? My only guess is that while I was being blindsided by the tolls four pregnancies were taking on my body, the stress of raising the fruits of that labor was taking its toll on my face.
I consistently use sunscreen and anti-aging creams on my face. All of my life I've prided myself on my young-looking skin. People used to be amazed when I told them how old I was, often commenting on how young I looked. Now, when I tell people my age, no one bats an eye. People say things like, "You look tired" when they actually mean, "You look old." I want to grow old gracefully, knowing that "the Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7). I know this is true, and yet I find myself pulling my face taut and imagining that gravity doesn't impose the cumulative property of time I know all too well.
Apparently, for the last three years I have methodically gone through both a morning and an evening routine without ever really looking at myself. Standing too far from the bathroom mirror and dim lighting have done much to feed my ego...until today. My prayer is that even now as my youth is fading and the lines and signs of wisdom and experience make their presence known, I will feel that my values and the strength of my character far outweigh the shallowness of my exterior. Believe me, I want to look young, but you couldn't pay me enough money to go back in time. Not for a second, do I regret the circumstances that have shaped the story of my life. Because we all have a desire to be known, I guess that also means that if I try to cover up, alter, or otherwise change the landscape of my countenance, I am hiding something that altogether belongs to me, that has made me the person I am today.
Coco Chanel famously said, "Nature gives you the face you have at 20. Life shapes the face you have at 30. But at 50, you get the face you deserve." I still have some years to go before I'm 50, and so I keep on going, knowing that the choices I make as well as the reactions I have to the choices that are made for me will make their impression, not just on my soul but also on my face. Doing this is a difficult thing, which is why I'm writing about it. To embrace these advancing years is a deliberate act of the will. And so, maybe on my next birthday, I'll add ten years to my real age just so I can hear someone say one more time, "Really? You've got to be kidding because you sure don't look it!"
This morning, I was at home with my younger daughter, and we were playing with my iPhone camera. Since this particular device also has the option of turning 180 degrees, so that a person can take a picture of herself while holding the camera I thought it would be fun to upload a new Facebook profile picture. Shock and awe are the two words I would use to describe my reaction when I saw the photograph I took. Fine lines and puffiness around my eyes and deep lines across my forehead. When did this happen? My only guess is that while I was being blindsided by the tolls four pregnancies were taking on my body, the stress of raising the fruits of that labor was taking its toll on my face.
I consistently use sunscreen and anti-aging creams on my face. All of my life I've prided myself on my young-looking skin. People used to be amazed when I told them how old I was, often commenting on how young I looked. Now, when I tell people my age, no one bats an eye. People say things like, "You look tired" when they actually mean, "You look old." I want to grow old gracefully, knowing that "the Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7). I know this is true, and yet I find myself pulling my face taut and imagining that gravity doesn't impose the cumulative property of time I know all too well.
Apparently, for the last three years I have methodically gone through both a morning and an evening routine without ever really looking at myself. Standing too far from the bathroom mirror and dim lighting have done much to feed my ego...until today. My prayer is that even now as my youth is fading and the lines and signs of wisdom and experience make their presence known, I will feel that my values and the strength of my character far outweigh the shallowness of my exterior. Believe me, I want to look young, but you couldn't pay me enough money to go back in time. Not for a second, do I regret the circumstances that have shaped the story of my life. Because we all have a desire to be known, I guess that also means that if I try to cover up, alter, or otherwise change the landscape of my countenance, I am hiding something that altogether belongs to me, that has made me the person I am today.
Coco Chanel famously said, "Nature gives you the face you have at 20. Life shapes the face you have at 30. But at 50, you get the face you deserve." I still have some years to go before I'm 50, and so I keep on going, knowing that the choices I make as well as the reactions I have to the choices that are made for me will make their impression, not just on my soul but also on my face. Doing this is a difficult thing, which is why I'm writing about it. To embrace these advancing years is a deliberate act of the will. And so, maybe on my next birthday, I'll add ten years to my real age just so I can hear someone say one more time, "Really? You've got to be kidding because you sure don't look it!"
What Every Room Needs
Right now, I'm sitting by myself in a quiet house. I'm at the desk in my kitchen, typing away on my laptop. I could just as easily move this computer to the living room or my bedroom and feel just as comfortable. I recently noticed that every room in my house has two things in common. I think I did this unconsciously, but now that my mind's eye has turned its attention to it, I can't help but dwell on this common theme. Not surprisingly, it has become a common theme in these blog posts, as well.
The two things? A clock and a mirror. Every single room has them. Why? I don't know. I like to look at myself, and I don't want to be late? Maybe. When I placed them there, it was simply because I like the extra light a mirror brings to a room and the tick-tock of a well-placed clock just says "Welcome Home" to me. But maybe it's more than that.
Maybe God wants me to think of him when I saunter through the rooms in my house. After all, Genesis 1:27 says, "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them." I love that. I was made in the image of God, so every time I look at myself, what I see needs to represent the one who made me. I know several people, who, when I look at them, I honestly feel like I am gazing upon the very face of Jesus. The Bible is clear that even "as water reflects a face, so a man's heart reflects the man". (Proverbs 27:19) These people possess a countenance that is so peaceful and their words are so full of joy, that without them ever even saying it, I know that they are Christians. This is how I know it: "And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit". (2 Corinthians 3:18) I may not be able to see my heart in my mirror, but it daily reminds me of the importance of what my life reflects.
The clock, too, is a reminder of what my life reflects. How am I using these precious days I've been given to bring glory to God? I actually took a week-long break from writing this post, and in that time, our family switched from cable to satellite TV. This new electronic equipment has no clock attached to its face, so alas the first paragraph I wrote is a complete lie. You wouldn't believe how this lack of a prominent timepiece has unnerved our family. The kids claim they don't know what time they're supposed to go to bed, and I am suddenly aware of how many times a day I absent-mindedly glance at one of the many clocks in our home. I need to know how much time I have left. And not knowing how much time I have left has caused more than a little bit of anxiousness. If only I could be like Hosea, "Sow for yourselves righteousness, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the Lord, until he comes and showers righteousness on you. "--Hosea 10:12 (emphasis mine).
Time to seek the Lord--that's a sobering thought. So often I set aside time to seek the Lord...when I have time. How backwards is that? I sit here in my comfortable house and wonder to myself, "how much time before the kids get home from school?" Then, it's "How much time before I have to start dinner"? And finally, "How much time before the kids go to bed and I can steal a few minutes for myself"? Becoming more intentional about writing this blog has actually helped me to become more intentional about life in general. The fact that I have free time at all is a gift I should not take for granted. Today, I pray that I will use this gift to seek the Lord, not only because of what I think I will find, but also because of what I know I will begin to see in the mirror.
The two things? A clock and a mirror. Every single room has them. Why? I don't know. I like to look at myself, and I don't want to be late? Maybe. When I placed them there, it was simply because I like the extra light a mirror brings to a room and the tick-tock of a well-placed clock just says "Welcome Home" to me. But maybe it's more than that.
Maybe God wants me to think of him when I saunter through the rooms in my house. After all, Genesis 1:27 says, "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them." I love that. I was made in the image of God, so every time I look at myself, what I see needs to represent the one who made me. I know several people, who, when I look at them, I honestly feel like I am gazing upon the very face of Jesus. The Bible is clear that even "as water reflects a face, so a man's heart reflects the man". (Proverbs 27:19) These people possess a countenance that is so peaceful and their words are so full of joy, that without them ever even saying it, I know that they are Christians. This is how I know it: "And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit". (2 Corinthians 3:18) I may not be able to see my heart in my mirror, but it daily reminds me of the importance of what my life reflects.
The clock, too, is a reminder of what my life reflects. How am I using these precious days I've been given to bring glory to God? I actually took a week-long break from writing this post, and in that time, our family switched from cable to satellite TV. This new electronic equipment has no clock attached to its face, so alas the first paragraph I wrote is a complete lie. You wouldn't believe how this lack of a prominent timepiece has unnerved our family. The kids claim they don't know what time they're supposed to go to bed, and I am suddenly aware of how many times a day I absent-mindedly glance at one of the many clocks in our home. I need to know how much time I have left. And not knowing how much time I have left has caused more than a little bit of anxiousness. If only I could be like Hosea, "Sow for yourselves righteousness, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the Lord, until he comes and showers righteousness on you. "--Hosea 10:12 (emphasis mine).
Time to seek the Lord--that's a sobering thought. So often I set aside time to seek the Lord...when I have time. How backwards is that? I sit here in my comfortable house and wonder to myself, "how much time before the kids get home from school?" Then, it's "How much time before I have to start dinner"? And finally, "How much time before the kids go to bed and I can steal a few minutes for myself"? Becoming more intentional about writing this blog has actually helped me to become more intentional about life in general. The fact that I have free time at all is a gift I should not take for granted. Today, I pray that I will use this gift to seek the Lord, not only because of what I think I will find, but also because of what I know I will begin to see in the mirror.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Too Many Kisses
TOO MANY KISSES
It was getting close to bedtime and the baby girl, who really was a big girl now, gave Mommy and Daddy one little kiss before she ran off to play a few minutes more.
Mommy and Daddy were talking in the living room. They were just saying that it was almost time for someone to go to bed. Before they finished the sentence, the little girl was back…for one more kiss. Mommy and Daddy looked at each other and smiled.
Their baby girl had kissed them and run to play.
It wasn’t long before she was walking tiptoe across the room again. She looked at Mommy with her big brown eyes. Then she ran to her and kissed her right on the lips.
“That’s too many kisses”, Mommy said. But already, the girl was off, playing with her dolls and paying no more attention to Mommy.
In another minute, she was standing in the living room again. This time, she said, “Are you good, Daddy?”
“I’m good,” he said, and smiled at his baby girl. “Do you need a kiss, Daddy?”
“Yes, baby, I love kisses.” She gave him a quick hug and pecked his cheek. Again, she ran off, for it was very close to bedtime, and she did NOT want to go to bed.
“Love…”, Mommy said. “I think it’s time for bed.”
Very quickly she was with them again. She gave her mommy a little kiss, and she gave her daddy a little kiss.
“That’s too many kisses,” Daddy said. “It’s time for bed.”
She didn’t hear him. She was already in another room, playing quiet as a mouse.
But before long, Mommy and Daddy saw their baby girl standing in the doorway. She had more kisses to give! This time, she kissed mommy TWO times! Then she kissed Daddy TWO times! Everybody laughed.
“My goodness,” Mommy said. “That’s too many kisses. I think it’s time for bed.”
The little girl just smiled her sweet little smile. She ran away.
Soon she was back, though. “I need to give you a kiss, Daddy. I need to give you a kiss, Mommy.”
“No”, they said together. They were being so patient. “You NEED to go to bed!”, Daddy said.
“Kisses!” she yelled. “Kisses!” And she kissed them each again.
“Love, that’s too many kisses. It’s time for bed.”
Her mommy picked her up, but she wriggled free. She ran to her Daddy, jumped in his lap, and squeezed his neck tightly. “One more,” she said. “Just one more kiss.” Daddy smiled and held her close. He carried to bed, and when he had tucked her in, he gave her hundreds of little kisses. Mommy came, too. She kissed her and kissed her until she laughed and laughed.
“That’s TOO many kisses, Daddy. That’s too many kisses, Mommy”
“There’s no such thing as too many kisses,” Daddy said.
And so she kissed them both one more time before she closed her eyes and finally went to sleep.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Time Will Tell
My grandfather was 83 years old when he died last week. Eighty three....That seems like a long time to live to some, and certain doctors and nurses told my mom as much when they were discussing his health with her. Is it? Well, that all depends on your view of time. Do you consider our time here on earth as "doing time" or " the time of your life"? Was he ready to go? I don't know. He was tired, yes, but READY? I don't think so. You see, this is how my grandfather viewed time....
When he and my grandma moved here last year, my mom spent many of her days helping out at their house. She often complained of the time it took my grandma to get herself ready in the morning. The process apparently took hours! On one such occasion, my mom said to my grandpa, "Boy, mom sure does take a long time to get dressed!" But when my grandpa heard this, he said, "Yes, but when she comes out, IT'S WORTH IT!" Wow--what a testament to the enduring love and affection felt from a husband toward his bride of 64 years!
On the flip side, my grandpa had been very sick for some time, and worse, no one could really diagnose what exactly was causing all of his health problems. On the morning that he passed, a CT scan revealed a large tumor on one of his kidneys. When my mother told him of the diagnosis, he sadly declared, "Well, I guess this is the end of me."
No, Grandpa! This is the beginning of you! Here, where time crawls and time eludes and time flies and time sometimes stands still (as it did that morning)--this time is coming to an end, but the promise of forever and a time that does not end, awaits my grandpa. Surely, in heaven he is having the time of his life! "For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night."--Psalm 90:4. This verse has profound meaning, not only because of the element of time, but you see, my grandpa was blind, too, and in heaven, he will see clearly what could only be felt here on earth.
He has passed from this world where so many of us spend our days as if we're doing time, waiting out the minutes and hours. Not me: I want to be very careful how I live--"not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." I miss my grandpa, but he gave me a great gift. He loved my grandma and he loved me, and I live knowing that one day, I too, will enjoy a new beginning. Let's live like we are having the time of our lives!
When he and my grandma moved here last year, my mom spent many of her days helping out at their house. She often complained of the time it took my grandma to get herself ready in the morning. The process apparently took hours! On one such occasion, my mom said to my grandpa, "Boy, mom sure does take a long time to get dressed!" But when my grandpa heard this, he said, "Yes, but when she comes out, IT'S WORTH IT!" Wow--what a testament to the enduring love and affection felt from a husband toward his bride of 64 years!
On the flip side, my grandpa had been very sick for some time, and worse, no one could really diagnose what exactly was causing all of his health problems. On the morning that he passed, a CT scan revealed a large tumor on one of his kidneys. When my mother told him of the diagnosis, he sadly declared, "Well, I guess this is the end of me."
No, Grandpa! This is the beginning of you! Here, where time crawls and time eludes and time flies and time sometimes stands still (as it did that morning)--this time is coming to an end, but the promise of forever and a time that does not end, awaits my grandpa. Surely, in heaven he is having the time of his life! "For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night."--Psalm 90:4. This verse has profound meaning, not only because of the element of time, but you see, my grandpa was blind, too, and in heaven, he will see clearly what could only be felt here on earth.
He has passed from this world where so many of us spend our days as if we're doing time, waiting out the minutes and hours. Not me: I want to be very careful how I live--"not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." I miss my grandpa, but he gave me a great gift. He loved my grandma and he loved me, and I live knowing that one day, I too, will enjoy a new beginning. Let's live like we are having the time of our lives!
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