I feel like celebrating!

With four boys in the family, our driveway saw a steady stream of interesting and needy vehicles come and go. Each first-car was purchased with only hundreds of dollars rather than thousands and was sometimes held together with tape, wire and bungee cords.

By the time our younger girls needed wheels, their brothers were experienced bargain-hunters and facilitated the purchase of Louisa’s sky-blue Honda Accord, which she later sold to Birgitta. Despite the car being 13 years old, the boys assured the girls it was in its prime with “only” 145,000 miles, good for 200,000 more.

The little Honda has banked 72,000 toward those 200,000 without an issue until recently when the hood latch let go on the highway, flinging the hood up over the windshield with such force it shattered all the glass, bent the window frame and cracked the roof. (“In Sync with God,” June 7, 2011)

Because the incident occurred on a superhighway, police insisted the car be towed off the premises within 20 minutes. It was a high pressure situation during which Birgitta was traumatized, and I was missing Nate’s important input.

Towed to a body shop, the Accord appeared to be damaged beyond its humble value, so we let it go in exchange for tow fees and storage charges. But once I was back in Michigan, Klaus said, “Mom, you made the wrong call. The engine was still good.”

He arranged to have it free-towed 100 miles to Michigan where his buddy fixed it for under $400. It isn’t perfect but is quite acceptable. Then came the fun part: surprising Birgitta, which occurred this weekend.

As we arrived home well after midnight I said, “Remember the surprise I said you were getting? Well, there it is.”

“Where?” she said, looking around inside my car.

“Out the front window,” I said, watching her eyes squint in the dark. When she recognized her blue car, she covered her mouth with her hand, spit out a few words in an attempt to say what she was thinking, and squealed with delight. “My car! Is it my car? Is it still broken? Is it fixed?”

It was a spectacular surprise, thanks to Klaus, better than the best 4th of July fireworks show. Birgitta’s appreciation for her wheels has sky-rocketed, because what once was gone has been restored.

The whole thing reminds me of the three biblical stories Jesus told, one after the other, about restoration: the lost sheep, lost coin and lost son. (Luke 15) In each case the “find” generated a celebration. But Jesus made it clear he’d only told those stories to demonstrate one thing: that jubilant feeling of finding what was lost is exactly his feeling when someone repents of sin and comes to salvation.

After watching Birgitta get her car back, we know how that feels. And it feels really good!

“In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:10)

Last Chance?

The other day I drove past a sad scene. A restaurant that had once been crowded with hungry guests and lively with animated conversation had shut down. Weeds had found their way through sidewalk cracks and around the edges of the building, some reaching above window sills. The neglect was evident.

My guess is the restaurant hadn’t been closed for too long. Abandoned buildings fall into quick disrepair and are a bulky example of “use it or lose it.”

That’s true for human bodies, too. Consider a person who breaks an arm. When the cast is removed after 6 weeks, muscles seem non-existent and the limb looks shrunken, abnormal, non-functional. Without using it, we lose it.

And what about the languages we learn in high school and college? At one point we know 8000 vocabulary words and can speak in simple sentences. Then we abandon the language lab and the vocab cards, and before long, the language slips away, too.

What about people? I think of the strong bonds linking them together and how they quickly become fragile if neglected. Without loving contact between husband and wife, parent and child, friend and friend, the attachment diminishes and gradually the relationship fizzles.

Is this true in the spiritual realm, too? God promised never to leave us, but what if we leave him? Is it possible to lose this critical relationship by not using it? I’m not referring to the debate about whether or not we can lose our salvation but about the ongoing connection we’ve been invited to have with the Lord after he saves our souls. Do we keep it fresh and current? Are we up to date with him?

And the more important question is, if we’re not caring for that relationship, how difficult does it become to regain it? Is it as hard as rebuilding biceps? Or learning vocabulary? Or repairing a marriage?

What if it’s more difficult still? Good questions for us might be, “If Christ returned today, would I be happy with the way our relationship stands? Am I ready for him? Or can I improve my end of things? Without using what he’s given me, am I losing out on what could be a fabulous union?”

A neglected building can be sold, painted, cleaned and landscaped. A new restaurant can move in. Patrons can come. It’s a big job, but each loss can be recouped.

But if Jesus comes tomorrow, we’ll never have another chance to regain what we lost during our time on earth.

“You must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.” (Matthew 24:44)

Just Heavenly!

When I was a little girl, Mom forced my sister, brother and I to take piano lessons, just like most young children. I remember quite a few skirmishes with me on the piano bench refusing to practice and Mom in the kitchen saying, “You’re not getting off that bench till I hear you play!”

By 5th grade, I begged to go another musical route: the violin. If Mom would just let me take violin lessons, I’d practice without arguing. Really! Every day!

She didn’t give in until 7th grade. The junior high school had an orchestra, so she negotiated with me. “If you’ll join the orchestra and practice like you say, then OK.”

Poor Mom. She sprung for a violin and hauled me to Evanston every week for a 30 minute lesson, but fairly quickly the practice problem resurfaced. In the end, after two years of lessons and more conflicts than Mom could stand, she sold my violin out from under me announcing, “You’re done.”

But not quite. When Birgitta turned 4, she began begging to learn the violin. I ducked her pleas for quite a while, but when her best friend Ellen began begging her mom, too, we compromised by letting the girls split lessons, 15 minutes each.

I wasn’t prepared when my childhood longing to play the violin engulfed me once again. I rented a violin and took lessons by auditing Birgitta’s lessons. I practiced faithfully for nearly a year, performing a duet with my daughter in the family Christmas program. But she quickly left me behind in her abilities, and once again it became difficult to practice. (Surprise, surprise.)

I didn’t re-rent the violin and haven’t played since. Birgitta, on the other hand, studied for 10 years, wowing us all with her beautiful music. Ellen is still playing.

Yesterday in church we were treated to a performance by a trio of sisters, a pianist, a cellist and a violinist. As they played “To God Be the Glory” with flourish and force, my love for the violin surfaced immediately. I closed my eyes, longing to climb right into the music. Oh, how I wished it wouldn’t end.

Later they played “How Great Thou Art” with the same incredible style, the violinist’s shoulders dipping in commitment to the music, her ponytail swinging. Something deep in my soul responded not just to the violin music but to the Lord, and I started to cry. Wanting to breathe in the notes, I ached to make them mine. The craving was intense, unexplainable in words.

But God understood perfectly and let me know. He whispered, “This is what heaven will be like for you.”

And it took my breath away.

Now I know why I never stuck with practicing. No matter how hard I tried, I knew it would never sound like that. But some day…

“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.” (Psalm 42:1)