In My Father's Shadow

Baby pictures!  The firstborn in a family always has far more pictures taken of him or her than the subsequent children... or so I thought. 

Secondly, I thought my parents didn't take many pictures of my brother and I as we were growing up.  To my recollection, it didn't seem important to my parents to take pictures of us.  The camera they had was old and unreliable, and I didn't think they took the trouble of trying to use it.  How wrong I was! 

On these cold days of winter, I have been reviewing and organizing the family archives ( old photos and letters).  I made a wonderful discovery in the process.  I found out that the two statements which I made above were just not true!  I discovered lots of pictures taken of myself (the second born) as well as my brother as we were growing up.

I found an old photo album- you know- the kind your grandmother had which had black pages between stiff covers held together with a string, the photos in it secured with corner tabs, and the labeling done in white ink.  I don't remember ever having seen this album before.  However, there it was, year after year, a picture of my brother on his birthday on April 3 with a cold, barren landscape behind him and then a picture of me taken on my birthday the next month in May with the evidence of trees budding out behind me.  And there below each photo was my mother's writing putting down the date.  My mother was meticulous her whole life when it came to labeling photos.  She kept a diary and must have referred to it to accurately date photos.  At any rate, there were the pictures of my brother and I carefully labeled.  Always the date.  Always our age.  The pictures were always taken on our respective birthdays, never taken a day early or a day late.

My mother documented the dates of the pictures, but it was obvious that it was my dad who took the photos.  Back before flash cameras, pictures were taken outdoors in the sunlight.  Frequently, as in the photo of me above on my 8th birthday, my dad's shadow could be seen.

Whereas some people grow up without having good fathers to nurture them, I am convinced I had the best father ever!  After seeing my dad's shadow so often in my birthday photos, I've been thinking about what it was like to grow up in his shadow. There were several 'bike' picutres in the photo album on my 8th birthday; apparently my dad was especially pleased with the new bike he had given me.  Our family didn't have much money, so that new bike was an extravagant example of my dad's provision for his litlle girl who was growing up before his eyes. 

In the shadow of my father!  What did my father provide for me over the years?  He gave me the freedom and safety to roam with delight over the farm fields, splashing through the creek bed and exploring the woods. He gave his time at the end of each exhausting day to read books to me, even way past the time I could read for myself.  He piled up mounds of sweet smelling hay on the barn floor for me to jump down into.  He gave me dairy cattle to train and the supporting opportunity to show them at the county and state fair.  He gave me chickens to tend so I could earn spending money.  He taught me how to use machinery and tools- things like an ax with which I chopped down trees, hammer and nails to build things, the use of  a wide brush to paint buildings, and the tractor to drive for doing field work.  He taught me the value of honest labor as I helped him in the summer to bring in the hay and cultivate the corn, and to fork over the beans plants to dry in the fall.  He moved and renovated an old shed to be my 'clubhouse', he bought me my own horse to ride, and he bought my brother and I a pool table and ping pong table in our teen years to enjoy with friends.  In college, he let me borrow the family car (our only car) for a week to drive east to hike the Appalachian trail with some friends.  My father gave me an example of how neighbors are to help one another, of always believing the best in another person, and of going to church regularly to sing God's praises with zest.

I had it very good as I grew up because I was abiding in the shadow of a father who loved me and provided for me. My father gave me an example of what God is like.  The way my dad lived his life helps me to understand the following truths from the Bible-

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say to the LORD, 'My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'  Psalm 91:1 

Which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give hims a stone?  Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent"  If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will you Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!   Matthew 7:9-11

I have to admit that age is creeping up on me.  I can't run, and I don't chop down trees anymore.  I don't have the same sense of well being I used to have to be out on snowy roads in the winter or while driving at night.  I don't feel safe to wander fields and woodlands alone.  It's not that I'm in my second childhood and completely helpless yet.  However, as an older person, I know I am more vulnerable and I need to be in the shadow of someone who is stronger and wiser than me.  Who will that be?  Almighty God!  I need to keep abiding in the shadow of my Heavenly Father just as I was in the shadow of my father on my 8th birthday.  God has promised to give me good gifts, just like my dad did, if I ask God to be my provision and my protector.  Jesus promised me that.

Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Once a week I grab up my guitar and head for the local nursing home to sing the old songs the folks love so well.  Songs like: Billy Boy, When Irish Eyes Are Smiling, and She'll Be Coming Around The Mountain. 

 The folks like all the old familiar songs, but Let Me Call You Sweetheart is the song that brings the greatest response. A dreamy look comes over each person's face along with a big smile. The song seems to bring back to everyone the memory of a certain special someone from the past. Faces that are droopy and not responsive to much around them become lively, and eyes twinkle.  If you sit down with the nursing home folks, right then, and ask them "Tell me how you met your sweetheart", years fade away as people begin to tell of long ago when the felt their first bloom of love.   

It seems impossible to believe that the residents of a nursing home ever experienced intense passion, the same kind of intense, hormonal feelings which young people are dealing with in this day and age.  However, we know that the emotions of young men and young women were just as powerful in the past.  Watching the faces and listening to the old folks relating their stories of how they first fell in love proves that!  I recently came across the photo up above for the first time.  It's my mother-in-law and father-in-law in the early 1930's as they were dating. The look they are sharing and their nearness to one another speaks volumes.

Falling in love is a robust and profound mystery.  The Bible puts it this way:
There are three things which are too wonderful for me; yes, four which I do not understand:  The way of an eagle in the air, the way of a serpent upon a rock, the way of a ship in the midst of the sea, and the way of a man with a maid.  Proverbs 30:18,19

For this reason, I need to remember to pray for the young adults that I know- that they would be wise in who they date and that they would honor Jesus Christ with their bodies, to be chaste, until the day they wed.  I need to remember that when I pray for my young grandchildren, I should also pray for the nuturing and spiritual upbringing of their future spouses. 

Since every generation experiences afresh the strong emotions of romantic love, I would encourage any of you reading this blog to pray in a similiar manner for the young people you care about.  It may be now or very soon that the ones you know will be looking into someone's eyes and saying, "Let me call you sweetheart.  I'm in love with you!  Let me hear you whisper that you love me, too!"  We all remember what it was like.   As a result, you know why it's important to pray in this regard for the future of those you love.

Finding Significance

I've always been a paper pack rat.  I've kept newsclippings, wedding invitations, post cards, notes, teaching outlines, photos, journals, and other stuff that have been meaningful to me.  Throughout the years, I've been methodical about caring for these scraps of paper, my archives of past events.  I've punched holes into the side of each document that I've found worthy of keeping and entered them into a loose leaf notebook.  Dozens of these notebooks are upstairs in a closet.  In addition to my own memorabilia, I have possession of the old diaries of my mother-in-law and of my mother.  Over the years I have been tempted to discard these archives of the past, but I haven't.  More than once I've wondered about the purpose of keeping all of this.

It is said that when a person dies, especially an older person, an entire library of knowledge is gone.  And so it is!  But until that time, each of us carries a richness of life expeiences that make us who we are.  And those experiences are often what we share with other people in conversation or in other ways.  For myself, I find writing and artwork to be an outlet for reflecting upon the experiences and truths that God has blessed me with over a lifetime.

Lately, I've been going through my archives and jotting down notes to remind me of events and people from the past and then discarding the original documents.  My notes take up a lot less room than the documents.  There is significance in each document, a meaning to why I kept the scrap of paper.  For instance, in the above picture you can see a postcard of the girl scout camp where I was a counselor, my wedding invitation, a newspaper clipping of when I worked on the high school yearbook, an e-mail from my daughter-in-law as she awaited the birth of her first child, a picture of my husband receiving his warrant officer rank, and various other items.

All of us long to find meaning to our lives.  I think that is why I have kept my own personal archives.  As I am reviewing and consolidating my scraps of papers lately, I take note of the meaning of each item. At this time in my life, I find significance in how richly God has blessed me with people I have known and insight I have gleaned from the past.  I hope that these memories will be the means by which I can bless others in my attempts to write words of spiritual encouragement.

"Great are the works of the LORD, studied by all who delight in them.  Full of splendor and majesty is his work."  Psalm 111:1-3 

When I review the richness of my life, look at the marvels of nature, or read of Jesus Christ in the Bible, I cannot help but recognize God's work of splendor and majesty.  There is something to be said for pausing to study God's work in our lives (even in the hard times), His work in the natural world, and His redeeming work on behalf of mankind through Jesus.  It is in recognizing God's hand in everything that we find our life's greatest meaning and significance. 

       

Help To Let Go

I was thinking about all the changes that have occurred in my life over the last decade.  There have been a lot of "letting go" of people and possessions and places where I have fit in.  Most of the "letting go" has not been of my own choice, but have occured as a result of the death of loved ones or my need to down-size to a smaller house and yard because of aging.  My life circumstances had changed, and I had to adapt. 

One way that I choose to "let go" is pictured above.   Ten years ago, the family business had come to an end and it was my responsibility to dispose of everything.  One thing I had to do was figure out what to do with the sign that sat next to the busy highway advertizing our hobby shop.  The sign was composed of two 15 foot tall rockets which I had fabricated from old porch pillars, 4 X 4's, aluminum flashing and plywood, and had painted with our business name. It wasn't easy to know what to do with the rockets; they symbolized 20 years of my husband's Army career and 17 years of our family's life, business, and reputation in our small hometown.  At last, however, I chose to let the rockets go and I consigned them to a bonfire.

It is not easy to "let go"...  However, sometimes it's necessary.  At this time of the year when most of us reflect on the past year and think about the new year to come, we often formulate our plans to change- to live better lives.  Sometimes in the process of "letting go", we may be at a crossroads, and the choices we make of what we keep in our life, what we "let go" of, and what we add may influence our lives and the lives of our loved ones for years to come and into eternity.

It's good to seek God's counsel about how to make good choices for the future when we realize we need to "let go" of things from the past.  In the Bible, Peter gives us very sobering advice concerning this.  He tells us what kind of people we should be as we realize that God is soon coming to judge the world.  "What sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set on fire and dissolved, and the elements will melt as they burn!  But according to his (God's) promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells."  2 Peter 3:11-13  

How are we to live in holiness and godliness as we wait for God to fulfil His promises to us?  The Bible tells us to "let go" of stuff that hinders our walk with Jesus and to draw closer to Him.  "But one thing I do; forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal of the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."  Philippians 3:13,14

I don't know about others, but I plan of using the next few days before the new year to ask God to show me if there are things that I need to be willing to "let go" of which are hindering the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Maybe there are others who are considering the same thing.  I'm sure it pleases our Lord when we ask for His help in "letting go".

The Tale Of Two Pianos

"On a whim, I thought I'd go back to my old piano and play a song," the pianist said.  "Oh my!  I couldn't believe it.  It sounded so pathetic!  When that was all I had, I was content.  I didn't know any better.  But now that I have a new piano, a grand piano, I know the difference."

The old piano?   Her parents gave the pianist the best they could afford.  It cost $50.  It was a cast-off piano that had been used in a USO recreational lounge on a military base overseas.  In addition, it had been moved from home to home in military housing as the 'first' piano for beginning piano students.  Someone had started to refinish it; half of it was covered with dirty, cream-colored paint and half of it was stripped down to bare wood.  Deep cigarette burns marked up the flat surfaces.  The pianist's mom finished stripping the paint off the piano and refinished it, masking the cigarette burns by painting over them the look of wood grain. The bench was a kitchen bench salvaged from alongside the curb on trash day and refinished to match the piano.

The piano was shipped back to the states with the rest of the family's goods.  Five more times it was moved.  It was heavier than most pianos, but even so, twice it was moved to the pianist's second floor bedroom!  Having it tuned became more and more of a problem because the action inside the frame was German and parts weren't available in the US.  A resourceful piano tuner fabricated replacement parts as best he could. 

The pianist was gifted and despite the quality of the piano she practiced on, music moved her and moved others when they heard her play. 

The pianist married and the piano went with her to her new home.  Her husband vowed that one day he would buy his bride a different piano- a grand piano.  That seemed  to her like a pipe dream- something fun to think about, but something that would never happen.  The pianist still played her old piano and was content. 

The husband loved his wife.  His vow about a grand piano wasn't just idle words.  It always came back to his mind when his wife played.  When the pianist and her husband moved to a farm, the husband made sure the central, light, airy room of the farmhouse was left empty.  He called it the 'piano room'.  He said that one day that was where the grand piano would go and he would install a chandelier above it.

The day came.  The pianist came home in the evening from work and gracing the 'piano room' was a brand new grand piano!  Her beaming husband sat next to it.  It was his gift of love to his bride.  Even to this day, the pianist can barely believe it.  Music has never sounded so wonderful to her! 

And so it came as an utter surprise to the pianist when she recently went back to play a song on the old piano and discovered how pathetic it sounded.  It wasn't that the piano was so much out of tune, but that after a note was played, there was always a discordant twang that lingered.  Additionally, the old felts on the hammers, despite being filed to size, continued to sporaticially hit adjacent notes.  However, most disconcerting to the pianist was the sluggish, unresponsive touch of the keys.  She said it felt like hitting a pillow when she played; there was no instantaneous response of the keys to her fingers tips. She couldn't create the music her soul longed to express.

The difference between the old piano and the new piano reminded me of what the Bible explains about mankind's two natures.  From our parents we inherited the best they had; they gave us our innate human nature.  It was adequate for us to learn how to function (for better or worse) in this world.  However, as we all know, human nature is flawed.  It is not what God had intended from the beginning.  Mankind is unresponsive to the touch of God, just as the old piano is unresponsive to the touch of the pianist's fingers.

However, when we are joined to Jesus Christ, we become new people.  We are literally given a new nature that can indeed be responsive to the touch of God, just as the new piano is sensitive and fully responsive to the pianist's fingers.  This new nature comes to us because we belong to someone new; we are the bride of  Christ and no longer children of the world, just as the new piano came to the pianist from her husband and not from her poverty-stricken parents.  The new nature comes as a gift.  Just as the pianist's husband vowed to provide a grand piano for his bride, the One who died for our sins promises us this new life that is sensitive to God's will.

This tale of two pianos explains for me what the Bible talks about in Romans 4- 8 and is alluded to in Jeremiah 31:31-34 and in Ezekiel 36:25-28.  What a gift!  To be responsive to the heart and soul and touch of God!  I like the knowledge of that!

Frozen Stiff

Years ago, on wintery days like the picture above, my mother wasn't able to hang the family wash outside to dry.  Instead, after running our bedding and clothing through the wringer washer and wash tubs every Monday morning, she hung the wet clothes on lines my dad had strung up in the woodshed.  Since there was no heat in that building, Monday evening my mom brought the laundry back into the house to finish drying it over a rack of wooden bars in the dining room.  What I remember best was my mom's attempt to bring my dad's long johns back into the house.  They were frozen stiff!   My mom tried as best as she could to manuver the freezing-cold, flat garments with stiff outstretched arms and legs through the doorway, but it was wasn't easy.

I thought of those frozen long johns the other day when I read a selection from one of J. I. Packer's books called Knowing God.  Packer writes  "Constantly we find ourselves slipping into bitterness and apathy and gloom as we reflect on past disappointments and present heartbreaks, which we frequently do.  The attitude we show to the world is a sort of dried-up stoicism, miles removed from the 'joy unspeakable and full of glory' (1 Peter 1:8) that Peter took for granted his readers were displaying."  Since it was on a nasty, freezing, and snowy day that I read this selection from J. I. Packer, I imagined that "dried-up stoicism" was about the same as "frozen, stiff long johns".

I don't know about others, but I find that I slip into bitterness and apathy and gloom at times.  I wouldn't be surprised that during this Christmas season, there are many others who, when reflecting on past disappointments and present heartbreaks, also slip into bitterness and apathy and gloom.  Somehow we manage to function outwardly when we are around others celebrating the season's festivities, but inwardly our emotions and spirits are stiff and cold, and we know it!  We can fool others, but we can't fool ourselves or God. 

There is a request made of God in Psalm 51 that seems appropriate for me and other Christian's to pray when they feel overwhelmed and emotionally frozen at this time of the year.  In Psalm 51 David, the Psalmist, confesses his sin and asks God to have mercy upon him according to His steadfast love.  David also makes this request of God: Restore to me the joy of your salvation and uphold me with a willing spirit. (Psalm 51:12).

That sounds like a good prayer for this harried, frantic time of year.  What do you think?

Leonard The Lamb

My mind runs through memories of the holiday season.  My husband's favorite Christmas movie was  What A Wonderful Life, the heartwarming story of a man discovering the importance of his well-lived, generous life.  On the other hand, my favorite movie is The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, the story of the renegade Herdman children bringing wild adventure to a usually calm Christmas program.  It reminds me of a event I want to share here.  I've already included it in my annual Christmas letter.

It happened during the children's annual Christmas pageant at the Free Methodist Church in Huntsville, Alabama in 1975.   A soft murmer rippled through the congregation after the shepherds arrived at the manger, because, in the subdued lighting while a teenager sang O Holy Night, it appeared that one of the shepherds held a real live lamb.  The shepherd held the lamb tightly in his arms while the lamb gazed around at everything and then finally snuggled closer to the shepherd in loving confidence.  However, it wasn't a real live lamb; it was a puppet.  Our family still has this puppet; we call him Leonard the Lamb.  How he came to be is an amazing story!

That was the year I volunteered to do the costumes for the Christmas program.  I made the three wise men's crowns by gluing gaudy costume jewelry onto strips of indoor/outdoor carpet with liquid nails.  Then I recycled used bathrobes, coat linings, and bed covers into robes for Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and the wise men.  At one point, I turned the fleece-lined hood of an old jacket inside out.  When I threw the hood on the floor with scraps of cloth as useless, it landed in such a way that it reminded me of the shape of a lamb's head.  Picking the hood back up, I began envisioning it as a puppet for my ten-year-old son Mark to carry as a shepherd.  I knew I could teach him how to make the puppet move realistically.

And so, I fashioned Leonard the Lamb out of the fleece of the jacket hood, adding glossy black buttons as eyes and gluing on a yarn black nose.  I put a Styrofoam ball inside the head for shape and fashioned a bent coat hanger to make the ears stick out and be moveable.  But then I was stymied because I didn't have any more fabric with which to make ears.  In desperation, I cut a 2" by 2" square out of one side of the puppet's neck and used it to make the ears.  I told my son he'd have to be careful to only let one side of the lamb's neck show since the other side had a big square hole in it. 

A few days later, in the mail came samples of sewing materials, fabrics, that I could order from a certain company.  I had never ever heard of the company, nor had I ever bought fabric from anyone through the mail.  I had never had such an offer before, nor have I ever had such an offer since.  There were a few swatches of dark polyester trouser material in the envelope, and there was also a 2" by 2" square of fleece that was nearly an identical color and texture as Leonard the Lamb.  At once I sewed the square into the puppet's neck.  It fit the hole exactly!  And it was barely noticeable!  If you look closely at the picture above, you might be able to see the square of slightly different fleece in the middle and the bottom of Leonard's neck.

The arrival of that swatch of matching material wasn't just a coincidence.  It was an example of God's watch care and grace.  As I recall that event of thirty-four years ago, I continue to be amazed that God cared about Leonard the Lamb who was merely a puppet.  I learned an unforgetable lesson from that event-- If God cared for that inanimate puppet to be made whole, surely He cares that much for me.

That's the message of Christmas itself.  God loved us so much that He sent Jesus, His Son, to earth as a human being, so that one day on the cross Jesus would be the sacrificial lamb to take away our sins.  Truly, to be whole, we need God's healing of our past and the wrongs done to us.  That is what Jesus was born to accomplish. 

Perhaps that is why a movie about a Christmas pageant is my favorite Christmas movie-- it reminds me of this lesson I learned long ago.