Comin’ Up!

Posted on January 9, 2014 by Margaret

Having delivered 7 babies, I well remember the struggles of that last month. I was quite a sight in my snug maternity clothes, and comments from strangers in the grocery store didn’t help.

“My heavens! Are you overdue?” Or, “Looks like you’re carrying twins!” My favorite was the gasp of an elderly gentleman who said, “You look like you’re ready to explode!” I tried to view it as his way of sympathizing, though I did see him back up ever-so-slightly when I passed him with my shopping cart.

Our Linnea is currently in that self-conscious 9^th month when the whole world feels free to editorialize. Actually, she’s in her 10^th month, having passed her official due date several days ago.

It’s bad enough to feel uncomfortable, exhausted, and fat. But on top of all that misery comes the burdensome bob-and-weave of unpredictable emotions.

When a woman approaches (or passes) her due date, she can be just as surprised as those around her at the sudden weeping or flash frustrations. But the truth is, it’s hormonal, and it’s normal.

I remember being a week overdue with our first baby, Nelson, gradually accepting the fact (or so I thought) that the baby just wasn’t ever coming out. Tired of guessing if “tonight would be the night,” I felt better once I decided I was going to be permanently pregnant. And so goes the wild-‘n-crazy thought-life of a full term woman-in-waiting.

Sometimes those of us who are not waiting to give birth might have similar thoughts about another coming event, something many generations have been waiting for: the coming of Jesus. The Bible says he’ll return to our earth as the triumphant King of the World to set everything straight.

When I read today’s news and learn of the horrors in our world, I plead with the Father to orchestrate his Son’s return quickly, so people can be rescued from evil a.s.a.p. Though we know about some of the atrocities, there are many others going on in secret, even involving young children. And sometimes I wonder, “Lord, what are you waiting for?”

The only reasonable answer is that he’s hoping unbelievers will recognize the truth of his Gospel so they, too, will be saved. He may have other reasons, too, but whenever he comes, it will be “in the fullness of time,” his time.

For now, though, when I find myself crying for the sad, sometimes tortured situations of others, God reminds me of an encouraging statement he put at the end of the Bible. Jesus himself said it: “I’m coming soon.”

Meanwhile, in a couple of days I’ll be flying to Florida, bringing another pair of helping hands to my daughter and her family of about-to-be-six. And when I get my first look at her 10-month tummy on Sunday, I know the very best thing to say: “Honey, you look absolutely beautiful!”

“Jesus said, ‘Yes, I am coming soon.’ Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.” (Revelation 22:20)

Flights of Imagination

Posted on January 7, 2014 by Margaret

When I recall my early teen years, I remember that I was often a brat. For example, one day my dad was pacing through the house with a frown on his face, stressed about something at work. In a most inconsiderate way I said, “Dad, you shouldn’t worry about stuff. The Bible says it’s a sin, so you’re committing sin every time you worry.”

I don’t remember his exact response, but at 14, I figured I knew more than he did and walked away thinking I’d delivered the wisdom of the ages. Since then, however, I’ve learned a great deal about worry. First, God doesn’t want us to do it (I had the right idea about that), but second, it can dominate a person anyway, day and night, for weeks at a time.

Recently I’ve worried about a couple of matters to the point of concocting fantasies of worst-case-scenarios. Then I’ve let those imaginary scenes torment me as if they were actually real, especially during the night.

While sharing this with daughter Linnea last week she said, “Mom, God doesn’t give grace to cover our tomorrows or our yesterdays, only our todays.” Of course I knew that, but I hadn’t heard it put quite that way. I’ve repeated that sentence to myself frequently since then, whenever my mind leans into future fantasies.

Then last night as I climbed into bed, I noticed the sub-zero frost outside the window just inches from my pillow. After unrelenting snow and wind for 5 days straight, frosty crystals had formed on the glass next to a ledge of snow, reminding me it was a frigid -16 degrees outside. But I didn’t worry about it. I knew I wouldn’t freeze to death in my sleep, even though the glass was thin, very breakable, and ice-cold to the touch.

How come?

Because my experience has been that windows keep out the weather. So when I slipped under my down blanket, I believed I’d be cozy throughout the night. There was no fantasy about my family finding me frozen to death with a layer of snow covering my stiff body. I had faith in my window.

So why is it so difficult to have faith in God? Since I’ve had plenty of experience with his sufficiency, why can’t I live in my todays without fabricating disasters for my tomorrows?

Son Nelson gave me another helpful quote, this one from Corrie ten Boom: “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength.” Through harsh worry-experience, I’ve learned the truth of that.

Our spiritual enemy, Satan, wants us to turn from trusting God to trusting our fears (and fearful fantasies). When I let myself get caught up worrying, I’ve pleased the devil and have (as C.S.Lewis says) “barricaded my mind against God.” That’s the last thing I want to do!

So tonight as I crawl under the covers, I’m going to let that ice-covered window serve as my reminder to trust in God, not in foolish fantasies.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)

A Shiny Example

Posted on December 19, 2013 by Margaret

If Mom was still living, we’d be celebrating her 101^st birthday about now. She didn’t make it that far, but packed a-lotta-livin’ into the 92 years she had. Her #1 life-interest was Jesus Christ, but her #2 was definitely people (and a chimp or two). My siblings and I still hear reports of her influence.

Recently, for example, I received an email from a summer neighbor, Karen, who took time to write out her youthful impressions of Mom:

I remember liking to come over to your cottage, knowing we were always welcome to drop in. Your mom made time to sit and play games with us, never minding if we got sand on her floor. And we could always use your big inner-tubes at the beach, even if you weren’t going.

Your mom took us to the State Park where we climbed [the giant dune] “Pike’s Peak” together and ran down the back side of it. On another occasion she let us “help” paint your cottage. Once I fell and was knocked unconscious, but your mom took care of me.

What I remember most, though, is that your home seemed filled with love, acceptance, fun, and joy. Your mom was the best example of God’s love shining through someone that I’ve ever known. His joy radiated from her, and I was blessed to have her in my life.

* * * * * * * *

I’m still trying to learn from Mom’s example, and it’s interesting that the many “kids” in the multiple generations she impacted always mention the same things: that she had time for them and accepted them as they were.

As parents, we spend 20 years molding and shaping our children, trying to grow them into responsible adults. Sometimes we lift up standards that are so high they’re impossible to meet, and then we push, push, push, forgetting to take time to have fun with them and joyfully accept who they are. And what about taking time to do the same with other people’s children?

Shortly after I heard about Mom from Karen, I also heard from one of her other “kids”. Judi wrote:

Your mother was an angel on earth. Her unique attributes continue to be present through the legacy she passed on to her many “children”. What a privilege to have been one of them.

Between those lines I hear God’s opinion shining through. Mom pleased him by passing along the blessing she had received herself, giving God the credit for everything. She didn’t just share her games, her inner-tubes, and her time. She also shared the faith that meant more to her than anything else. But not by preaching it.

Children “caught it” not from listening to her recite Bible passages or teach Sunday school but by seeing the Lord shine out of her (as Karen wrote) by way of “love, acceptance, fun, and joy.”

Happy 101^st, Mom!