Trails

Posted on January 16, 2013 by Margaret

When driving back to the Chicago area at dusk recently, the trail-marks of O’Hare’s jet planes made a beautiful criss-cross pattern in the sky highlighted by a gold and blue sunset. I could hardly pay attention to the road for wanting to stare at it, so I snapped a photo instead, to study later. The jets that made the trails were nowhere to be seen, but we knew they’d been there because of what they’d left behind.

When I walk through my house and see baby items, I know a baby has been here. Of course they belong to Emerald, and she lives with us, so that makes sense. But even when she’s tucked into her bassinet, out of sight and sound, evidence of her former presence has been left behind.

That’s true even for my other 6 grandchildren. Today I was sweeping when I noticed something cute on one of the heating duct grills. It was a tiny window cling in the shape of a flower. I’d given all the children sheets of the clear, Jello-like decorations, and most of them lasted only long enough for a day’s play. The purple flower, however, had gone astray and became a sweet reminder of the children who had recently stood playing in that place.

God leaves reminders of where he’s been, too, hoping we’ll recognize his activity and think about the fact that he was nearby. If we take the time to notice, we can see his “trails” all around us, for example outdoors every day. They’re visible in large ways (the heavens on a clear night) and small ones (the diligence of a squirrel transporting acorns).

We can also see God’s trails in people, like the testimony of someone whose life has been changed after committing to Christ. We see it when we watch a tiny start-up church flourish and grow, when a girl forgives the one who abused her, and when a terminally ill person dies with a smile on his face. All of these things are trailer-markers letting us know God was there.

One major difference, though, between God’s trails and those of jetliners, babies, and preschoolers is that after he leaves his mark, he doesn’t leave. He stays with the new Christian, the growing church, the girl who forgives, and the dying man.

And about that dying man? When his soul flies away, it’s so quick and complete that not even a wisp of a trail will be left behind him.

[Our lives] ”pass quickly and we fly away.” (Psalm 90:10)

A Good God

Posted on November 19, 2012 by Margaret

Last weekend we marked the 21^st anniversary of my father’s death in 1991. Dad was a late bloomer. He dated only one woman and didn’t get started on that project until his 40’s, but that slow start never disadvantaged him. He and Mom made it to their 50^th anniversary, and I remember well the party we planned for them.

Several members of their original wedding party from 1941 were able to join us, bringing their remembrances with them. Granddaughters modeled Mom’s wedding gown and a bridesmaid’s dress, and a Chicago bakery recreated their wedding cake. The celebration was like an exclamation point at the end of a good marriage, because the very next month God called Dad to heaven.

Whenever something happens with unusual timing like that, it’s probably God’s way of getting our attention. He orchestrates things purposefully and hopes we’ll learn from it. What message might have been buried within the unusual timing of Mom and Dad’s 50th anniversary being followed so quickly by Dad’s death?

One lesson might be the importance of waiting to make big decisions until God gives the green light. When Dad’s 20’s and 30’s were passing him by, he could have panicked, wondering if he’d ever find the right girl. Would he miss out on married love, a home with children, grandchildren?

Marriage is a decision of considerable consequence, and Dad wisely waited until all indicators pointed to the right time and the right woman. But marrying at 42 made it seem unlikely he and Mom would reach their 50^th. God, however, said, “Just watch me.” Dad’s late start had been the Lord’s perfect choice after all.

A second thing we can learn from the timing of Dad’s death is that God has control of our calendars. We write and rewrite them, but God makes last- minute rearrange- ments whenever he chooses. So we learn it’s a good idea to remember whose endorsement we should seek before we make our plans.

One last thing we can learn from the Lord’s timing with Dad is that God is good. Scripture tells us God delights in giving gifts to his children, and Dad’s making it all the way to the 50^th was one of them. The trick for us now is to remember that the God-is-good character quality is still a part of God, even when his gifts might seem few and far between.

Our Lord doesn’t change. He was a good God before 1991, has been good since then, and will be good throughout eternity. If he does or doesn’t show that to us, it has no effect on whether or not it’s true. God himself put it best when he said, “I am who I am.”

Dad’s been gone a long while, and sometimes we think it’s a shame he’s missed 21 years of family life. But of course he’s having his own special good times in God’s family, where the Lord’s goodness can be visualized every single day.

“No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly.” (Psalm 84:11)

Fizz

Posted on October 24, 2012 by Margaret

When I last visited my British grandchildren, they had just added a new family member: Fizz the cat.

She was a pretty kitty with a good deal of patience toward her 3 pint-sized owners. Less than 6 months old, Fizz was still trying to learn household rules and which of her opinions was appreciated, which ones not. Like all kittens, she was curious. One moment she was in the dryer, the next she was running up the curtains.

Late one night as the household slept and I blogged, Fizz expressed keen interest in my laptop. As a matter of fact, she dove at the screen with the force of a bird flying into a windshield. It took me by surprise, and I wondered what had prompted her.

Then I saw it. As my mouse moved the tiny cursor around the screen, she had mistaken it for a big juicy bug, and by instinct went for it. Once I understood that, I let her do it again and again, and she never gave up trying to bag that “bug”.

Feline curiosity is fun to watch. Fizz could get into trouble (think tumbling in a dryer) but generally her curiosity will teach her what she can and can’t do. We could take a lesson.

As children, most of us were as curious as any kitten, pursuing answers to our questions through trial and error. Like Fizz, we sometimes got into trouble, but trouble was a good teacher. As we get older, the edges of our curiosity get worn down, and we walk through life based on what we already know rather than questing after something fresh.

But resurrecting some of that kitty-like curiosity might be a good idea, especially when it comes to living the Christian life. God has lots of fresh blessings for us every day, some of which we don’t experience because we aren’t curious about what they might be and don’t go searching for them. Scripture hints at “new mercy” and “new compassion,” available every single morning. (Lamentations 3:22-23)

God also says he’s willing to bring a “new song” to us (Psalm 40:3) and put “new spirits and hearts” within us. (Ezekiel 36:26) He offers “new answers” to our prayers (Jeremiah 33:3) and the promise of a “new life” in Christ (Romans 6:4), even a whole “new self.” (Ephesians 4:24) Amazingly, the Lord volunteers to share “new hidden things” that he’d formerly kept secret. (Isaiah 48:6)

A healthy curiosity for the fresh blessings God wants to give should make us leap toward him and his Word with the same fervor Fizz showed toward my moving cursor.