I wake this morning, after a night in my comfortable bed and safe from harm, to a cool Monday morning sipping coffee and planning the activities of my day. Most Monday mornings are spent rushing around getting ready for work and enjoying a busy day full of things I choose to do. Today, however, is Memorial Day. An early summer day that many, including myself, will get to enjoy off to be with our families and friends.
When I was a child, I remember that on this day we would travel to my mother's home town, stop at the same greenhouse, and then drive to the cemetery to place red geraniums on the grave of someone I didn't know - her father. Her father had died in a war as a young man serving his country. I had no idea why we were doing it, I just knew that when this day came each year that was the plan. I am now 44 years old and it wasn't until recently that the reality of what we had faithfully done those many years ago struck me with brilliant clarity.
I had never had the opportunity to meet this man who gave his life for his country, as he had given the ultimate sacrifice when my mother was just a girl. Never before had a pondered the grief and struggles of my grandmother, a young woman with five young children, left to heal their hurting souls and her own, and manage to go on without him. The realization that many, many families have had to endure this pain and sacrifice through the generations has made to truly realize what a gift these young men and women were and we should remember them today, and everyday that we walk in our freedom.
Yesterday as my husband and I were driving along a rural country highway, through several small towns, we saw American flags flying from nearly every home in these communities nestled among the corn fields. But the most striking display could be seen nearly a mile away at a cemetery in the middle of nowhere. There, they had rows and rows, at least 50, tall flagpoles waving the red, white and blue banners of our freedom and independence. With the setting of the early evening sun providing the amazing amber backdrop for this image tears came to my eyes as I remembered those who had fallen for our freedom. It was truly one of the most amazing displays I have ever seen and I thank Our Lord and Father that he led me down that path last night.
Today, as you enjoy your day off, I encourage you to take a few minutes and say a prayer of thanksgiving that you live in the land of the free. Pray for the families whose soldiers have paid the ultimate price for our freedom. Even if you do not believe in war, say a prayer of support for the safety of our soldiers who are serving in the way that our God has called them. Pray for their families back home who struggle to maintain the family while they are away. And, as always, pray for their safe return.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Thoughts from a soon-to-be Grandma
Life is good. Life is full - full of blessings, gifts and treasures of the heart.
It has been a truly full week at our household. On Mother's Day we received the news that we are going to be grandparents! Now, I have been looking forward to being a grandparent for quite a while-even though my children are only in their early twenties and it seems like only yesterday I was a new parent myself. It is exciting for me to be able to see those little ones I brought home from the hospital (and no clue what to do next) spread their wings, create their own nest and move on to the next step of their journey and become parents in their own right.
I had always imagined that it would be my daughter to have a baby first, but the news came unexpectedly from my oldest son. I received the call on Mothers Day evening. We discussed supper, how our day was and then in a very calm manner (which is absolutely the norm for Dan) he nonchalantly said, "Well, just wanted to let you know you're gonna be a Grandma." Well, I nearly flew off my chair with excitement and I could not wait to call my own mother and tell her.
Just like parenting styles, there are lots of grandparenting styles as well. My own grandparents were down to earth and simple. They did not lavish gifts of every kind on us or spend countless dollars on entertaining us, but instead we were surrounded by a love so plain and simple that the memories we made with them will go on and on. It amazes me to this day how we ever survived a week at our grandparents house with only a corn crib, a goat and a big brown bag for entertainment.
And then there are those who spend endlessly on gifts and goodies as if trying to buy the grandchildrens love and affection. Big screen TVs, video games, iPods and laptop computers for a six-year old? Whatever happened to encouraging imagination?
My children are blessed with awesome grandparents too. While they enjoy giving gifts and goodies for special occasions, their greatest gifts are the unconditional love and freedom they enjoy while making their memories. To this day, my kids live for the brief times they go to Grandma's house and just be relaxed and have fun. Where they can go out on the lake, dig up a stump, or jump from a rope into the pond. A place where driving the lawnmower for hours is fun and Grandpa spent countless hours being the 'gas station'. A place where they can just 'be' and be loved.
It's going to seem like forever until January gets here and that new life arrives. I hope and pray that I can be a great balance of styles of grandparenting. I know that while I may not have the funding required for lavish gifts, God has blessed each of us with the one thing that money cannot buy - love. God's love is free and is meant to be shared with those around us.
So bring on the granchildren because I've got a bank full of love just waiting to be shared!
It has been a truly full week at our household. On Mother's Day we received the news that we are going to be grandparents! Now, I have been looking forward to being a grandparent for quite a while-even though my children are only in their early twenties and it seems like only yesterday I was a new parent myself. It is exciting for me to be able to see those little ones I brought home from the hospital (and no clue what to do next) spread their wings, create their own nest and move on to the next step of their journey and become parents in their own right.
I had always imagined that it would be my daughter to have a baby first, but the news came unexpectedly from my oldest son. I received the call on Mothers Day evening. We discussed supper, how our day was and then in a very calm manner (which is absolutely the norm for Dan) he nonchalantly said, "Well, just wanted to let you know you're gonna be a Grandma." Well, I nearly flew off my chair with excitement and I could not wait to call my own mother and tell her.
Just like parenting styles, there are lots of grandparenting styles as well. My own grandparents were down to earth and simple. They did not lavish gifts of every kind on us or spend countless dollars on entertaining us, but instead we were surrounded by a love so plain and simple that the memories we made with them will go on and on. It amazes me to this day how we ever survived a week at our grandparents house with only a corn crib, a goat and a big brown bag for entertainment.
And then there are those who spend endlessly on gifts and goodies as if trying to buy the grandchildrens love and affection. Big screen TVs, video games, iPods and laptop computers for a six-year old? Whatever happened to encouraging imagination?
My children are blessed with awesome grandparents too. While they enjoy giving gifts and goodies for special occasions, their greatest gifts are the unconditional love and freedom they enjoy while making their memories. To this day, my kids live for the brief times they go to Grandma's house and just be relaxed and have fun. Where they can go out on the lake, dig up a stump, or jump from a rope into the pond. A place where driving the lawnmower for hours is fun and Grandpa spent countless hours being the 'gas station'. A place where they can just 'be' and be loved.
It's going to seem like forever until January gets here and that new life arrives. I hope and pray that I can be a great balance of styles of grandparenting. I know that while I may not have the funding required for lavish gifts, God has blessed each of us with the one thing that money cannot buy - love. God's love is free and is meant to be shared with those around us.
So bring on the granchildren because I've got a bank full of love just waiting to be shared!
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Happy Mothers Day!
It's hard to imagine what life would be like without your mom. My heart aches for those who have gone through this transition in life where mom is no longer there so you can reach out for her, call her on the phone, laugh and go shopping with her. Our lives are formed, loved and nurtured by the strength of our mothers. Most dedicate their lives to the enormous task and responsibility that God has given them.
I hadn't really thought about this much until one day I realized that God trusted me the responsibility of caring for His children. You see, they are not my children, they are His. We are all His. He has entrusted this task to so many wonderful women that touch not only their children's lives but are icons of strength and dedication to others who will take on this job one day. No small fete by any means.
I have had the pleasure to see many models of great motherhood throughout my forty-four years of life, beginning with my own mom. My mom is a hard-working, extremely loving and friendly gal who, I know, has touched many, many lives other than my own. I have seen her care lovingly for her own mother in her later years and during her trying times before she went to the Lord, and I have seen her struggle through her own pain to be there for her grandchildren to make and maintain strong bonds and memories that they will never, ever forget. I truly cannot think of a stronger model of motherhood than my own mom. (Thank you mom, you're the best)
How many 'styles' of mothering are there? Equal to the number of stars in the sky. I have seen strict, orderly, and disciplined mothering: everything in order, a place for everything, and big trouble if you don't follow the rules. I have seen laid-back mothering: a house of chaos, fun, full of love of life and each other. And I have seen mothers who have created a great balance of all of this and more. The list can go on and on as we each have been given gifts and talents from God. We are all unique in how we handle the tasks set before us, but we pray and move on, in hopes that the results will be pleasing to God.
I have the pleasure of being mother to three of God's children and I thank Him every day that he has given such a treasured gift to me. They have grown into young adults now, each different from the other, with special gifts and talents unique unto themselves, and yet they are closer now than ever before.
My prayer for Mothers Day: Heavenly Father, thank you for giving me the opportunity to care for Your children and for all the mothers who have touched my life. I lift up to you all mothers on their special day. Continue to strengthen and guide them on their journey through the trials and tribulations of motherhood. In your name I pray, Amen.
I hadn't really thought about this much until one day I realized that God trusted me the responsibility of caring for His children. You see, they are not my children, they are His. We are all His. He has entrusted this task to so many wonderful women that touch not only their children's lives but are icons of strength and dedication to others who will take on this job one day. No small fete by any means.
I have had the pleasure to see many models of great motherhood throughout my forty-four years of life, beginning with my own mom. My mom is a hard-working, extremely loving and friendly gal who, I know, has touched many, many lives other than my own. I have seen her care lovingly for her own mother in her later years and during her trying times before she went to the Lord, and I have seen her struggle through her own pain to be there for her grandchildren to make and maintain strong bonds and memories that they will never, ever forget. I truly cannot think of a stronger model of motherhood than my own mom. (Thank you mom, you're the best)
How many 'styles' of mothering are there? Equal to the number of stars in the sky. I have seen strict, orderly, and disciplined mothering: everything in order, a place for everything, and big trouble if you don't follow the rules. I have seen laid-back mothering: a house of chaos, fun, full of love of life and each other. And I have seen mothers who have created a great balance of all of this and more. The list can go on and on as we each have been given gifts and talents from God. We are all unique in how we handle the tasks set before us, but we pray and move on, in hopes that the results will be pleasing to God.
I have the pleasure of being mother to three of God's children and I thank Him every day that he has given such a treasured gift to me. They have grown into young adults now, each different from the other, with special gifts and talents unique unto themselves, and yet they are closer now than ever before.
My prayer for Mothers Day: Heavenly Father, thank you for giving me the opportunity to care for Your children and for all the mothers who have touched my life. I lift up to you all mothers on their special day. Continue to strengthen and guide them on their journey through the trials and tribulations of motherhood. In your name I pray, Amen.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Believe and Belong
I remember when I was younger how hard I would strive to be a part of something. It might have been the choir, the cheerleaders, or just the 'in' crowd. I believe that each of us has a yearning deep within to belong and be a part of something special. Not all of us, however, are accepted into the 'in' club or the socially 'cool' cliques that are all around us.
In a post I made a few months back, I mentioned my friend Joe and what a difference he made in the way I look at life just by sharing one hour of worship time with him. (original blog posted below) Joe is very special in many ways.
Recently, after months of patiently waiting and learning, Joe officially became a member of our church. I am blessed to be one of his sponsors and, as such, Joe and I have become very close over the past few months. He was so excited to be joining our church that every day I would get the count down on how many days, weeks or months were left until the day. We would chat online, by text or by phone several times throughout each day about things involving membership in the church.
Every conversation included the same questions, "What's it like to be a member of the church?" and "What does it feel like to be a member of the church?" To Joe, joining the church was like being included in the socially 'cool' group or the 'in' crowd.
Now, I had never pondered these particular questions as he related them to the church, so I stumbled to find words that would explain it adequately for him. I described membership as being welcomed into a huge family that includes not only those of us in our congregation but all of God's children everywhere. The feeling, for me, is similar to going home to your parents house where you are welcomed with arms wide open and accepted unconditionally with all your flaws and imperfections included. The only requirement is that you believe and want to follow Jesus.
It has now been 9 days since Joe joined the church and not a day goes by that he doesn't tell me how happy he is to be a member of the church. Being a part of the body of Christ is one of the 'coolest' groups I know and the rules are simple - Believe and Belong!
Original post: Rejoice and Be Glad In it! 12/01/08
In a post I made a few months back, I mentioned my friend Joe and what a difference he made in the way I look at life just by sharing one hour of worship time with him. (original blog posted below) Joe is very special in many ways.
Recently, after months of patiently waiting and learning, Joe officially became a member of our church. I am blessed to be one of his sponsors and, as such, Joe and I have become very close over the past few months. He was so excited to be joining our church that every day I would get the count down on how many days, weeks or months were left until the day. We would chat online, by text or by phone several times throughout each day about things involving membership in the church.
Every conversation included the same questions, "What's it like to be a member of the church?" and "What does it feel like to be a member of the church?" To Joe, joining the church was like being included in the socially 'cool' group or the 'in' crowd.
Now, I had never pondered these particular questions as he related them to the church, so I stumbled to find words that would explain it adequately for him. I described membership as being welcomed into a huge family that includes not only those of us in our congregation but all of God's children everywhere. The feeling, for me, is similar to going home to your parents house where you are welcomed with arms wide open and accepted unconditionally with all your flaws and imperfections included. The only requirement is that you believe and want to follow Jesus.
It has now been 9 days since Joe joined the church and not a day goes by that he doesn't tell me how happy he is to be a member of the church. Being a part of the body of Christ is one of the 'coolest' groups I know and the rules are simple - Believe and Belong!
Original post: Rejoice and Be Glad In it! 12/01/08
Today is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it
Psalm 118:24
I have heard this Psalm many times, but it has never struck my heart as true as it did this morning.
I woke up early as I usually do on the weekend, around 5:30 am, to find everything covered in a beautiful blanket of white this morning. This was a beautiful sight as today is the first Sunday in Advent and we were full on into the Christmas season. I left my house a little early so I could 'run in to Wal-Mart' and get a few things. I found myself grumbling all the way because the roads were slushy, it was cold outside and it was still snowing and that leads to a bad hair day. After an hour at the store, I headed off to church, gathering my thoughts in the car as I went and preparing my heart to hear the words that would be spoken there that day.
For the past few months, we had the pleasure a very special guest attending our services. Out of respect for his privacy, I will call him "Joe", although anyone who shops regularly at our local Wal-Mart will recognize him just by the description. Joe was born with certain challenges that might have held back others - but not Joe. This blonde-haired, blue-eyed ray of sunshine beams right into each of our hearts when he is around. He is forever cheerful, upbeat, caring, and worships with all his heart and soul. There is utterly no human way that you can speak to him and not walk away with a smile in your heart. This brings me to the Psalm mentioned above - . . . "let us rejoice and be glad in it."
I chose a seat close to the outside of the row of pews, as I was the reader that Sunday morning and I would need to be able to get out easily. I was the only one in that row until Joe came and asked if it was okay if he sat with me. What an honor that felt like! Now, from the very moment we sat down, he never left my side. In fact, he moved in closer, as if to say, "I'm right here if you need me."
The service began and as we normally do we start off with a hymn. Joe is quite accomplished on the piano and reads music quite nicely, so no sooner than the organ started playing, Joe's voice rang out next to mine with such joy and abandon I couldn't help but smile. Why can't we all just sing with joyful abandon like that? When the first prayer began, Joe reached over and grabbed my hand tight. I was surprised at first but gladly accepted his hand knowing that there was genuine sincerity in his offering it to me. We held hands tightly with every prayer that followed, and if he forgot, I reached over and took his hand. Rejoice and be glad in it!
Upon returning to my seat after I had finished the readings for the day, he heartily hugged me and said, "That was awesome!" He had me beaming from ear to ear with his smile. Following the readings Pastor began her sermon. It was a wonderful story to help us all better understand how God knows we need help even before we cry out to him. At every turn of the story, Joe would look at me and we would discuss briefly the meanings behind what she was saying. When she was finished, Joe grabbed my hand and shouted, "Intense!" It was, indeed, intense. Isn't it amazing that God knows we need him even before we ask? Wow. Intense! Rejoice and be glad in it!
Soon it was time for us to approach the altar for communion. One by one we rose from our seats and proceeded to form our orderly lines, much as we do many other Sundays throughout the year. But somehow that day was different for me, just being with Joe and watching his unequalled excitement with every phase of worship – something many of us do routinely and without much though. When handed the communion wafer and the words spoken "the body of Christ given for you" Joe exclaimed quite loudly, "Amen, Pastor!" I immediately noticed every face around me smiling. They were not laughing at Joe, but they were relishing the joy with which he enjoyed worshiping our Lord. I am sure, like me, there were a few who were thinking, "Why don't we all worship like that?" Rejoice and be glad in it!
At the end of the service, the women of our church presented boxes full of home-baked goodies to our college students and military service personnel. As one of the military moms in the congregation I was up to accept the package for my daughter, a soldier in Afghanistan. The pastor lead a prayer of blessing for all of these students and soldiers and, as is usual for me, I cried. I always cry when we pray for the military, although I try to hold it in and almost always fail. When I returned to my seat, Joe was there waiting with his arms open wide to give me a hug and tell me it would be okay. Selfless, unconditional love – Wow! Intense! Rejoice and be glad in it!
Spending one hour of worship time with Joe that morning was an enormous blessing and a certain sign, at least to me, that God is with us. He did not care if it was snowing, or the roads were slushy, or he was having a bad hair day. He showed me, in all of his unbridled energy and glory, that "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." Thanks to the joyful heart of Joe, I now have a truer vision of how God wants us to rejoice and be glad in it.
Psalm 118:24
I have heard this Psalm many times, but it has never struck my heart as true as it did this morning.
I woke up early as I usually do on the weekend, around 5:30 am, to find everything covered in a beautiful blanket of white this morning. This was a beautiful sight as today is the first Sunday in Advent and we were full on into the Christmas season. I left my house a little early so I could 'run in to Wal-Mart' and get a few things. I found myself grumbling all the way because the roads were slushy, it was cold outside and it was still snowing and that leads to a bad hair day. After an hour at the store, I headed off to church, gathering my thoughts in the car as I went and preparing my heart to hear the words that would be spoken there that day.
For the past few months, we had the pleasure a very special guest attending our services. Out of respect for his privacy, I will call him "Joe", although anyone who shops regularly at our local Wal-Mart will recognize him just by the description. Joe was born with certain challenges that might have held back others - but not Joe. This blonde-haired, blue-eyed ray of sunshine beams right into each of our hearts when he is around. He is forever cheerful, upbeat, caring, and worships with all his heart and soul. There is utterly no human way that you can speak to him and not walk away with a smile in your heart. This brings me to the Psalm mentioned above - . . . "let us rejoice and be glad in it."
I chose a seat close to the outside of the row of pews, as I was the reader that Sunday morning and I would need to be able to get out easily. I was the only one in that row until Joe came and asked if it was okay if he sat with me. What an honor that felt like! Now, from the very moment we sat down, he never left my side. In fact, he moved in closer, as if to say, "I'm right here if you need me."
The service began and as we normally do we start off with a hymn. Joe is quite accomplished on the piano and reads music quite nicely, so no sooner than the organ started playing, Joe's voice rang out next to mine with such joy and abandon I couldn't help but smile. Why can't we all just sing with joyful abandon like that? When the first prayer began, Joe reached over and grabbed my hand tight. I was surprised at first but gladly accepted his hand knowing that there was genuine sincerity in his offering it to me. We held hands tightly with every prayer that followed, and if he forgot, I reached over and took his hand. Rejoice and be glad in it!
Upon returning to my seat after I had finished the readings for the day, he heartily hugged me and said, "That was awesome!" He had me beaming from ear to ear with his smile. Following the readings Pastor began her sermon. It was a wonderful story to help us all better understand how God knows we need help even before we cry out to him. At every turn of the story, Joe would look at me and we would discuss briefly the meanings behind what she was saying. When she was finished, Joe grabbed my hand and shouted, "Intense!" It was, indeed, intense. Isn't it amazing that God knows we need him even before we ask? Wow. Intense! Rejoice and be glad in it!
Soon it was time for us to approach the altar for communion. One by one we rose from our seats and proceeded to form our orderly lines, much as we do many other Sundays throughout the year. But somehow that day was different for me, just being with Joe and watching his unequalled excitement with every phase of worship – something many of us do routinely and without much though. When handed the communion wafer and the words spoken "the body of Christ given for you" Joe exclaimed quite loudly, "Amen, Pastor!" I immediately noticed every face around me smiling. They were not laughing at Joe, but they were relishing the joy with which he enjoyed worshiping our Lord. I am sure, like me, there were a few who were thinking, "Why don't we all worship like that?" Rejoice and be glad in it!
At the end of the service, the women of our church presented boxes full of home-baked goodies to our college students and military service personnel. As one of the military moms in the congregation I was up to accept the package for my daughter, a soldier in Afghanistan. The pastor lead a prayer of blessing for all of these students and soldiers and, as is usual for me, I cried. I always cry when we pray for the military, although I try to hold it in and almost always fail. When I returned to my seat, Joe was there waiting with his arms open wide to give me a hug and tell me it would be okay. Selfless, unconditional love – Wow! Intense! Rejoice and be glad in it!
Spending one hour of worship time with Joe that morning was an enormous blessing and a certain sign, at least to me, that God is with us. He did not care if it was snowing, or the roads were slushy, or he was having a bad hair day. He showed me, in all of his unbridled energy and glory, that "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." Thanks to the joyful heart of Joe, I now have a truer vision of how God wants us to rejoice and be glad in it.
Friday, April 3, 2009
The Jesus Creed
“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.
Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul,
with all your mind, and with all your strength.
The second is this, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
There is no commandment greater than these.
Mark 12:29-31
“Love your neighbor as yourself” – we have all heard these words before or at least something along those lines. Did you ever think that loving others like we love ourselves could be so difficult? Can you just imagine how wonderful our world would be if we all really did love each other as well as we love ourselves?
I, like others in my church, have tried to learn and live the Jesus Creed during our Lenten journey this year. Colorful, little cards with the Creed noted on them are hanging in various places where I can see them and remind myself to recite the words and remember how Jesus wants me to live. They dangle precariously in my car, on the fridge, and on my computer monitor at work and there’s even a few in my purse and one in the pocket of my smock. Overkill? Maybe. But it seems I need a lot of reminding on the matter of how Jesus wants me to live.
Recently a friend came into our store and inquired about my daughter, a soldier, serving in Afghanistan. When I replied that she was doing great and she loved her job, he continued on ranting about ‘why would she put herself in harm’s way’, ‘we should just stay out of it’ and ‘we shouldn’t be over there in the first place’. Few things can get me riled up like those who speak against the military or the jobs they are sent to do. The first thing that came to my mind at that moment was the Jesus Creed and those few simple words “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
With two soldiers in our immediate family we continually fear for their safety. However, when they return from a mission they are so excited to share their stories with those of us back home in stories and pictures. The work they are doing over there, to me, is one of the truest examples of living the Jesus Creed. They are taken out of the familiar comforts of home, flown halfway across the world to live with strangers, and to work in a culture so unlike our own they are amazed that these people have survived there.
Stories have been shared of the many young children treated by the army medical center for severe burns due to open flames heating their homes. The story of the young boy, recently circumcised, left untreated and unclean to be overcome with infection; the story of villages struggling to survive in a “poppy-free” environment, free from the tyranny of drugs; an entire country torn apart by war and terrorism without sufficient education, equipment or skills to fight back - Who could not love their neighbor at such a time as this?
Our pastor described this ‘living the Jesus Creed’ with brilliant clarity during her sermon this week. Living the Jesus Creed, loving our neighbors as ourselves, means laying down part of our own lives in service to others. In our own congregation we have seen people lay down their fear of speaking in public to share their faith stories and they have set aside their fear of needles to donate blood and platelets to serve and save a fellow Christian sister. And on the other side of the world, our soldiers have laid down the familiar comforts of home and family to serve our neighbors in need. They are setting aside their fears and traveling in unfamiliar surroundings to reach those in need of food, medical care, education and training for the betterment of their futures.
To our soldiers I say thank you. Thank you for being the living, breathing examples of the Jesus Creed for me. I pray that others will open their hearts and minds and see that loving our neighbors as ourselves means more than loving just those across the street and in our own home towns. Jesus sent us to love all of our neighbors, even those who can be difficult to love at times.
“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.
Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul,
with all your mind, and with all your strength.
The second is this, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
There is no commandment greater than these.
Mark 12:29-31
“Love your neighbor as yourself” – we have all heard these words before or at least something along those lines. Did you ever think that loving others like we love ourselves could be so difficult? Can you just imagine how wonderful our world would be if we all really did love each other as well as we love ourselves?
I, like others in my church, have tried to learn and live the Jesus Creed during our Lenten journey this year. Colorful, little cards with the Creed noted on them are hanging in various places where I can see them and remind myself to recite the words and remember how Jesus wants me to live. They dangle precariously in my car, on the fridge, and on my computer monitor at work and there’s even a few in my purse and one in the pocket of my smock. Overkill? Maybe. But it seems I need a lot of reminding on the matter of how Jesus wants me to live.
Recently a friend came into our store and inquired about my daughter, a soldier, serving in Afghanistan. When I replied that she was doing great and she loved her job, he continued on ranting about ‘why would she put herself in harm’s way’, ‘we should just stay out of it’ and ‘we shouldn’t be over there in the first place’. Few things can get me riled up like those who speak against the military or the jobs they are sent to do. The first thing that came to my mind at that moment was the Jesus Creed and those few simple words “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
With two soldiers in our immediate family we continually fear for their safety. However, when they return from a mission they are so excited to share their stories with those of us back home in stories and pictures. The work they are doing over there, to me, is one of the truest examples of living the Jesus Creed. They are taken out of the familiar comforts of home, flown halfway across the world to live with strangers, and to work in a culture so unlike our own they are amazed that these people have survived there.
Stories have been shared of the many young children treated by the army medical center for severe burns due to open flames heating their homes. The story of the young boy, recently circumcised, left untreated and unclean to be overcome with infection; the story of villages struggling to survive in a “poppy-free” environment, free from the tyranny of drugs; an entire country torn apart by war and terrorism without sufficient education, equipment or skills to fight back - Who could not love their neighbor at such a time as this?
Our pastor described this ‘living the Jesus Creed’ with brilliant clarity during her sermon this week. Living the Jesus Creed, loving our neighbors as ourselves, means laying down part of our own lives in service to others. In our own congregation we have seen people lay down their fear of speaking in public to share their faith stories and they have set aside their fear of needles to donate blood and platelets to serve and save a fellow Christian sister. And on the other side of the world, our soldiers have laid down the familiar comforts of home and family to serve our neighbors in need. They are setting aside their fears and traveling in unfamiliar surroundings to reach those in need of food, medical care, education and training for the betterment of their futures.
To our soldiers I say thank you. Thank you for being the living, breathing examples of the Jesus Creed for me. I pray that others will open their hearts and minds and see that loving our neighbors as ourselves means more than loving just those across the street and in our own home towns. Jesus sent us to love all of our neighbors, even those who can be difficult to love at times.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
More on Grandparents
I cannot walk by a bag of jelly beans or eat a stack of pancakes without thinking of the many childhood celebrations and 'vacations' at Grandma and Grandpa Shoemaker's house.
The Shoemaker farm sat out in the country about 20 miles from our house. I remember thinking that it must be halfway to the moon, because we could never get their fast enough for my liking. As kids living in town, going to grandma's house was just about this side of heaven for us. We anticipated our trips there almost as much as Christmas morning.
During our summer breaks, grandma and grandpa would take us all for a week. Traditionally, the three girls (me, my sister, Kelly and my cousin Amy) would spend a week, followed by my brother, Kevin and cousin, Jerry, and lastly the older two cousins Dave and Dan. We were treated like royalty and spoiled ruthlessly until we were returned to our respective parents.
I will always remember the girls sleeping in the upstairs bedroom on the left. Wallpapered in huge yellow roses and boasting a metal-framed double bed with big feather pillows, it was a dream. I always thought they were geniuses for tying a string from the headboard to the pull chain on the light so you didn't have to get out of bed to turn the light off at night!
Each morning we were treated to a feast fit for royalty before we would happily run out to play and use God's gift of imagination to see what adventures we could come up with on the farm. Grandma and grandpa had converted an old corn crib into our 'playhouse' complete with table, chairs, and a variety of mismatched dishes and silverware. That was our palace and our domain. Grandma would make up a lunch basket and haul it out there to us every day, and best of all, she always cut the crust off the bread. Grandpa would let us ride in the back of the pick up truck to go get the mail or to ride into town, something the children of today will rarely, if ever, be able to enjoy.
I could go on for hours about my memories of Grandma and Grandpa Shoemaker, but there are so many great ones, you'd be reading a novel. Here are just a few:
* ice cold well water quenching your thirst from an old tin cup hanging outside.
* silver dollar pancakes and chocolate pudding with Cool Whip
* hay rack rides to 'the timber'
* cleaning chickens, yuck!
* Jelly Beans on Easter Sunday
* Hours of jumping on an inflated brown bag
* arthritic hands and silver braids
* Thanksgiving dinner on TV trays
* Homemade noodles drying all over the house
I have heard people say "We were blessed with a granddaughter" but I think it's truly the other way around. "I was blessed with great grandparents" Rest in peace grandma and grandpa Shoemaker. You will always be remembered.
The Shoemaker farm sat out in the country about 20 miles from our house. I remember thinking that it must be halfway to the moon, because we could never get their fast enough for my liking. As kids living in town, going to grandma's house was just about this side of heaven for us. We anticipated our trips there almost as much as Christmas morning.
During our summer breaks, grandma and grandpa would take us all for a week. Traditionally, the three girls (me, my sister, Kelly and my cousin Amy) would spend a week, followed by my brother, Kevin and cousin, Jerry, and lastly the older two cousins Dave and Dan. We were treated like royalty and spoiled ruthlessly until we were returned to our respective parents.
I will always remember the girls sleeping in the upstairs bedroom on the left. Wallpapered in huge yellow roses and boasting a metal-framed double bed with big feather pillows, it was a dream. I always thought they were geniuses for tying a string from the headboard to the pull chain on the light so you didn't have to get out of bed to turn the light off at night!
Each morning we were treated to a feast fit for royalty before we would happily run out to play and use God's gift of imagination to see what adventures we could come up with on the farm. Grandma and grandpa had converted an old corn crib into our 'playhouse' complete with table, chairs, and a variety of mismatched dishes and silverware. That was our palace and our domain. Grandma would make up a lunch basket and haul it out there to us every day, and best of all, she always cut the crust off the bread. Grandpa would let us ride in the back of the pick up truck to go get the mail or to ride into town, something the children of today will rarely, if ever, be able to enjoy.
I could go on for hours about my memories of Grandma and Grandpa Shoemaker, but there are so many great ones, you'd be reading a novel. Here are just a few:
* ice cold well water quenching your thirst from an old tin cup hanging outside.
* silver dollar pancakes and chocolate pudding with Cool Whip
* hay rack rides to 'the timber'
* cleaning chickens, yuck!
* Jelly Beans on Easter Sunday
* Hours of jumping on an inflated brown bag
* arthritic hands and silver braids
* Thanksgiving dinner on TV trays
* Homemade noodles drying all over the house
I have heard people say "We were blessed with a granddaughter" but I think it's truly the other way around. "I was blessed with great grandparents" Rest in peace grandma and grandpa Shoemaker. You will always be remembered.
The Old Sweater and a Dilly Bar
In my closet, hanging on the doorknob is an old cardigan sweater. Almost every night during the cold winter months I come home from work, change into comfy pants, grab my old cardigan and settle in for a comfortable evening at home. This particular sweater is more than 10 years old, looks pretty ratty, but wraps in the comfort of memories of my Grandma Ryerson.
When my grandma passed away, it was a cold, winter day. I had to go shopping to find something to wear to the funeral and found a beautiful dress. Of course, being a female and unable to resist a good sale, I also purchased a new pair of dress slacks and a cardigan sweater. The day of the funeral dawned clear and cold - bitterly cold. With windchills nearly -30 degrees, I was torn on what to wear. It was then I tried to think what grandma would want. She herself was not one to 'dress up' frequently and always opted for the comfort of casual wear, I decided to wear the new sweater and be warm. After all, I was sure she wouldn't want me to freeze. THIS is the sweater that hangs in the closet to this very day.
One evening a few weeks ago I brought home a bag of Dilly Bars from the local Dairy Queen. After supper I put on my old cardigan, grabbed a Dilly Bar from the freezer and settled in for the evening. I couldn't help but remember my grandma's words as I was enjoying my dessert and it just brought a smile to my face.
In the last few years of her life, she lived with my mom in Kentucky. Whenever we would be there for a visit, we would always make a trip to town to our errands and have some shopping fun. Grandma always offered to buy, even before we would leave the driveway - it was her 'hint' that she wanted to hit the DQ at some point. Inevitably, while enjoy our frosty treats she would proclaim, "Delicious and nutritious but it won't make me ambitious!" Every time, without fail, she uttered these words that still echo in my mind today. In fact, I have even caught myself saying these very words and then I can only laugh and think I've turned into my grandma!
My Grandma Ryerson was an extraordinary woman who worked incredibly hard all of her life and would give everything she had to care for her family or anyone in need. I have lots of great memories of her:
* fresh picked asparagus
* pony rides in the buggy
* toast with peanut butter when we were sick
* her green car with no power steering
* her little red truck and cold sandwiches for a long trip
* her amazing spunk and determination
* the horse lamp on her old desk
* a freezer full of goodies from the Schwann's man
* her diminutive size with a heart as big as the world and made of gold.
The memories that we make with our grandparents are precious and valuable. My children are very blessed that they have created and maintained strong bonds with their grandparents. The memories they make will bring smiles to their hearts and faces for many years to come.
I'm not sure my sweater will last that long, but I look forward to the day when I can see grandma again and I hope there are Dilly Bars in heaven.
When my grandma passed away, it was a cold, winter day. I had to go shopping to find something to wear to the funeral and found a beautiful dress. Of course, being a female and unable to resist a good sale, I also purchased a new pair of dress slacks and a cardigan sweater. The day of the funeral dawned clear and cold - bitterly cold. With windchills nearly -30 degrees, I was torn on what to wear. It was then I tried to think what grandma would want. She herself was not one to 'dress up' frequently and always opted for the comfort of casual wear, I decided to wear the new sweater and be warm. After all, I was sure she wouldn't want me to freeze. THIS is the sweater that hangs in the closet to this very day.
One evening a few weeks ago I brought home a bag of Dilly Bars from the local Dairy Queen. After supper I put on my old cardigan, grabbed a Dilly Bar from the freezer and settled in for the evening. I couldn't help but remember my grandma's words as I was enjoying my dessert and it just brought a smile to my face.
In the last few years of her life, she lived with my mom in Kentucky. Whenever we would be there for a visit, we would always make a trip to town to our errands and have some shopping fun. Grandma always offered to buy, even before we would leave the driveway - it was her 'hint' that she wanted to hit the DQ at some point. Inevitably, while enjoy our frosty treats she would proclaim, "Delicious and nutritious but it won't make me ambitious!" Every time, without fail, she uttered these words that still echo in my mind today. In fact, I have even caught myself saying these very words and then I can only laugh and think I've turned into my grandma!
My Grandma Ryerson was an extraordinary woman who worked incredibly hard all of her life and would give everything she had to care for her family or anyone in need. I have lots of great memories of her:
* fresh picked asparagus
* pony rides in the buggy
* toast with peanut butter when we were sick
* her green car with no power steering
* her little red truck and cold sandwiches for a long trip
* her amazing spunk and determination
* the horse lamp on her old desk
* a freezer full of goodies from the Schwann's man
* her diminutive size with a heart as big as the world and made of gold.
The memories that we make with our grandparents are precious and valuable. My children are very blessed that they have created and maintained strong bonds with their grandparents. The memories they make will bring smiles to their hearts and faces for many years to come.
I'm not sure my sweater will last that long, but I look forward to the day when I can see grandma again and I hope there are Dilly Bars in heaven.
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