CHRISTMAS - DAWNING REFLECTIONS

I am thinking this early morning of my northern Indiana family. It is a special day, and for them must hold a sense of sorrow for the lost anticipation of sharing family traditions with our precious Amaranthine. Holidays are bittersweet for those of us who have known recent loss.

Each of our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren hold a special place in our heart. Amaranthine, no less in absence. She is not here to join our love and laughter; she is instead held safely in that realm of eternal joy. This is the knowledge that takes away the bitterness, that makes us breathe a prayer of gratitude and praise, that leaves us with sweet longing to go to her in God’s good time.

LOVING AMARANTHINE

(10/05/2018 - 10/12/2018)

Sweetly beyond - mid angel song
Surrounded by His heavenly throng
Our precious one's at rest, in peace.
God saved for her a special place
As yet unknown to us below
But sure, secure, forevermore.

No day will pass, no night will slip
Beyond our mem'ries' loving grip...
The joy we felt; the love she claimed
For every second she remained
Within our sight, our touch, our life ...
Though known so briefly here on earth.

Love is the song her family
All came to know, e'en sight unseen.
Alive and full each heart sang forth,
Responded to her wonder-birth;
And then as one sad hearts appealed
For solace and for time to heal.

And in this quiet space of dawn,
Reflections linger, gently mourn -
The loss held simply in the heart
Remains a still, enduring part ...
That blessed and beautiful design
God lent the tapestry of time.

A whispered prayer lifts up to Him
Who searches spirits, understands
How faithful eyes may sometimes dim
With unshed tears of loss and pain…
We miss her - yet humbly embrace
Her sacred trust within His grace.

(Grandmother 12/25/2018)

HOMELINESS

… or is that hominess. I could never figure out how homely could mean less comely (or even ugly) when home is such a beautiful word, could you?

Home is truly a relative term. When with relatives we ought to feel at home. And then there is that home away from home. Or that transitional home that is in the process, but looking more like it belongs with each passing day.

Thinking a lot about “home” these days. Some of my homes have faded in the distance of time. The home where I grew up – that cinderblock house (or was it cement block? – can never keep those straight) on the hill, and the little frame rented house down off the hill where I was born. Of course, the favorite home of my childhood memory will always be Grandma Oe and Grandpa Grover Miller’s - up Tanner in Shock, Gilmer County, WV. And yes, right now I especially miss my “home” in Amma, WV; enough so that I push those very clear pictures to the side lest I become ‘homesick’ in these delicate stages of transition.

If I’m going to be homesick, I want to be like Beth in “Little Women.” I want to be homesick for Heaven. Now isn’t that a lovely thought? Homesick for Heaven. Not the longing that makes us ill, but the desire that brings joy to our hearts and hope to our souls. Surely, the wondrous changes and adjustments are unimaginable, but without quandary or regret … ever. Forever Joy.  

Has God designed our longing for home as a proving ground for eternity? Perhaps so. If so, it might not be a stretch to think of our homes, as God would have them be, as a little piece of heaven. Translation: holy bliss. I’d best get preparing!

“…having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might … (Ephesians 1:18-19 ESV)”

THIS GRANDMOTHER’S PRAYERS

…have been answered so many times over. Once again, this morning my heart is overflowing with joy and praise. The first news of the day is that our youngest grandchild put on Christ in baptism last night. Abraham Enoch Koen, welcome to the fold of God.

Parents and grandparents alike know the hope of waiting as they see their family grow, being certain than it will come to pass in good time. We see the signs of readiness and our prayers increase in number and intensity. Protect, dear Lord, his/her heart and soul until those leanings have matured and transposed into the reality of obedience to Your divine will.

Yesterday’s rejoicing is of particular significance to Wayne and I as Abe is the youngest of our grandchildren (15), all of whom now are Christians. What joy! What joy!

The LORD has done great things for us; we are glad.  (Psalms 126:3 ESV)

CHANGIN’ LODGIN’S

Transition may not be a bad word, but we’ve come to think of it as a very time-consuming bit of hard labor. Outcomes are invariably good, but not necessarily easy. It could be the “old dogs – new tricks” syndrome. Whatever it be called, it also can be exhausting.

Wayne and I moved from West Virginia to Alabama a month ago. To say everything is still in transition is an understatement. But we are settling in…sort of.  When all our worldly belongings are unpacked from stacks of boxes in the garage, we might begin to look at the culture shock. Everything is new – we are old. Yep, that’s transition.

The newly designed apartment in the lower floor of our daughter’s home is nearing completion. We have moved down from a guest room to our own quarters, in spite of two lacking features – a kitchen sink and a bathroom sink. The bathroom sink is being installed today, the kitchen sink may not materialize until after the new year. Having full access to the upper floors of the house means the latter is a mere inconvenience. And eating upstairs has full advantages, as well – like being with family and a very capable cook.

Nonetheless, the heart wants what the heart wants. A place to call its own, with all those seemingly indispensable quirks and conveniences we call home. In other words, independence - getting into the groove of doing things as you’ve been accustomed to doing them; maybe not the right way, but the way you know best.

At church yesterday, someone asked Wayne if he missed the farm. His answer: “Every minute.” This was always going to be harder on him, as he has always been more invested in the land. After all, he planted the gardens and the orchard (some 40 apple trees), kept up the grounds and built the “Barn” where we lived for 20 years. It was for both of us an idyllic existence. But time and health issues caught up with us, and here we are beginning our new adventure.

We are indeed grateful for the blessings that bring us here. And we pray for patience to endure these mere inconveniences that fit in the ‘transition’ bucket. As always, the Lord knows, the Lord will provide. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

A BARN'S EYE VIEW ... OF BLESSINGS NEW

It's always a blessing to start a new year. New day, new month, new year, clean slate and fresh beginning. Somehow it seems easier to appreciate opportunities in January - though the truth is the Lord grants potential for good - moment by moment, every day, doesn't He?

A New Year Awakening

The sun wakes up, the new morn dawns -

Grand blessings of our Lord upon

Unwritten pages; parchment white

Unstained, unblemished as we write

A story. The biography

Unfolds each day. We knit and weave

A pattern on the tapestry

That stretches through eternity.

 

With humble heart and grateful praise

We take up threads and interlace

The colors. Patterns shift and move

Through His design and perfect love.

Among the fibers of content

His grace will lead, His mercy lend

The guidance needed to create

His masterpiece upon the slate.

His loving-kindness shields from harm.

A timid shuttle, broken yarn

May threaten ill from time to time.

Still He holds safe, preserves His Scheme -

The blueprint of Redemption found

In sacred word and Precious Blood.

The loom awaits; His Light shines in.

Our leaf of life anew begins.

pjt

01.01.14

Mile Marker Fifty

We all love reaching a new milepost. I'm sure that the marker we just passed is the most significant one yet. Earlier in September Wayne and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary. To celebrate the event - as our anniversary occurred on Labor Day as it did on September 2, 1963 - we determined to go back to where it all began. The same park, the same cabin, the same amount of time and even a very similar menu.

So our celebration was a simple one. Watoga State Park, Cabin 32 - ancient accommodations to a younger generation, but our dear and trusted standby for any family fun. Odd as it may seem, we never tire of the location. In fact, just yesterday Wayne suggested we make it a yearly expedition. Fine by me. No matter how many trips in the past or future, this will always stand out as a crowning realization of blessing, joy and love.

Thankful indeed for the multitude of blessings that have been ours over 50 Golden Years! God is so good.

A FOGGY SCHOOL DAY MORNING

Such cool and foggy mornings used to come a couple weeks before school started. These days school starts a couple weeks early so now the fog is on time. It was in the 50's here last night - little wonder the tomatoes are shy about ripening.

It's nearly time for Wayne's garden to start waning, though there may yet be a canner or two of green beans and tomatoes before vegetables vanish into autumn air. If the birds don't knock them all to the ground, it will be the fruit trees' turn for attention. Craig is up there in Indiana dreaming of apple butter, no doubt. It could happen. While making the apple butter, I'm holding out for fresh granny smith apples - which are rarely found in stores anymore. 

So here we are counting beans and tomatoes and apples before they hatch and before the morrow. We could be counting blessings - surely that is so. But we are remembering James 4:15 as well - it is the Lord's will that controls the earth, its seasons and its harvest. And it is His will that controls tomorrows, if such there be. My job is to leave all within His will and use His blessings - both time and harvest - in His service, to His glory.

Don't be shy about service...the Lord surely wasn't!