Give and Take

Posted on October 16, 2009 by Margaret

My dad was a conservative Swede. Wanting to minimize risk, he decided to wait a while before marrying. When a firecracker of a young woman came into his life and proposed, he fell to cupid’s arrow and married her. He was 42, and his bride was 13 years his junior with the energy of a young kid. Even as an old lady, Mom’s incredible pace was a marvel. Dad would shake his head and say, “You should have seen her when she was young!”

When Dad grew older, he shared his thoughts on getting married in middle-age. One of his comments has always stuck with me: “Since I got such a late start, I never expected to live long enough to see my children graduate from high school.”

But God took care of that, and Dad saw his three kids graduate from high school, college, get married and bring 15 of 17 grandchildren to him. His greatest joy was studying each one and alerting their parents (us) to special character qualities he saw in them. He reminded us of the importance of new life and was a model of exercising patience with children.

“Before you judge them, look at it from their point of view,” he’d say. He relished his role as a grandpa.

Fifteen months ago, Nate and I had the spectacular joy of becoming cousins grandparents, too. Skylar Grace came to our Linnea and Adam through remarkable circumstances. (See Linnea’s “bio” page on her blog: www.KissYourMiracle.com ) Five months later, Nicholas Carl arrived through Hans and Katy and is now a nine month old citizen of both the UK and the US.

Eight months after that, Linnea and Adam surprised us with the news that Skylar would have a baby brother in February! And now, during this stressful month of cancer discovery and daily sadness, God has surprised us again (and also Hans and Katy) with news of twins arriving in April! And the frosting on this family cake is that Linnea’s baby is due on her sister-in-law Katy’s birthday, and Katy’s babies are due on her sister-in-law Louisa’s birthday. God’s creativity and gift-giving leaves us speechless!

As Scripture says, the Lord does take away but he also gives. (Job 1:21) To think of three new babies arriving into our family during this time, a season of adversity and mourning, is nothing but God’s lavish outpouring of blessing.

“For the Lord is good. His unfailing love continues forever, and his faithfulness continues to each generation.” (Psalm 100:5)

“Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?” (Job 2:10b)

baby twins N

baby boy C

The “Keepers” file

Posted on September 23, 2009 by Margaret

Tucked into the “K” section of our file cabinet is a manila folder marked “Keepers”. It’s bulging with over 100 notes, cards and letters written by our children. The run-of-the-mill thank you notes or greeting cards that came with just a signature are not included. The Keepers file is reserved for words that are too cute, too powerful, too moving to part with.

Keepers file 2

Some are written in the labored printing of a first grader:

“I like you and your fammlee. I like whiut you duw for me. I like my klos I wier. I like my fowd. I like you.”

Others contain the scrawl of a teenage son: “I tried to write a poem, but it wasn’t going well. So I decided I would just tell you how much you have helped me through the years. I could never repay you, but I’ll still try!”

Then there is the swirly script of a middle school daughter: “Is there any possible way I could sleep in today? Please?!?! I didn’t get to lay down in my bed until exactly 1:25 and 30 seconds! My stomach hurts and I have a headache and I can’t see strait because everything wobbles and my eyes are watering.”

In a store-bought Mother’s Day card, one high school son simply wrote: “Thank you for having me.” And a fifth grade daughter, struggling with creativity, wrote: “Mom and Papa, you bring us love. Two wonderful parents sent from above. We’ll never push, we’ll never shove. We’ll give you are hearts which are happiness full of.”

Another note contains a song entitled “Mom” complete with hand-written score and large piano notes, composed by an eleven year old. Several cards are accompanied by short stories and two by full-blown picture books. One offered a coupon for free babysitting of a little sister.

From a 14 year old son we read: “I have some bad news. An almost full 32 oz bottle of water hit your car trunk and dented it. I will pay.”

Several letters included heart-felt apologies, this one from a nine year old: “I can live without a Barbi, and I can wait a few years to learn the flute. I’m sorry I complain alot. Please forgive me for it. I love you! XOXO.”

As the kids grew older, their letters contained more serious messages. From a new college grad we heard, “I used to be really focused on creating a fun life for myself. I believed in God, but I used to think if I gave everything over to him, my life wouldn’t be as good, like I needed to hang onto some areas or I wouldn’t get what I wanted. The funny part is, letting go is the only way you ever feel peaceful.”

One of our twenty-somethings wrote: “You’ve demonstrated what it means to weather the storm and consistently live by the principles you believe. That’s uncommon today. Thanks for being role models and commitment-keepers. Everyone notices.”

And a thirty-something wrote: “Thanks for all the support you give all your children. It must be hard doing all the prayer work and seeing fruit only some of the time. We may not always say so, but thank you.”

Why do we keep these? It’s because they’re a written record of family love, each one a treasure. And if the house was burning down, it’s the Keepers file I’d grab.

Fooled

Posted on September 13, 2009 by Margaret

When we eventually moved from our home of nearly 30 years, Nate had to surrender his position as one of three police commissioners in our suburb. The commissioners, appointed by the mayor and partnered with the police chief, were in charge of hiring and firing police officers. They also handled discipline cases. Nate loved the work and enjoyed his co-workers.

Being a commissioner had several perks:

1. If Nate wanted to carry a hand gun inside his suit jacket like James Bond, he could have, even though it was illegal for the rest of us. (He never did.)

2. If he was pulled over for speeding through town (which he was), he could have reminded the officer of his commissioner status and avoided tickets. (He never did.)

3. If he called the chief to say our teen drivers nearly got killed pulling out of our small street because of frequent speeders racing by, the chief would have done something about it. (He did, and he did.)

4. If he ever called 911 suspecting a break-in or sensing a threat to our neighborhood, the police would have responded in force.

Although Nate never dialed 911, the police did respond when a neighbor called. Our family was on a vacation 350 miles away when the young man caring for our animals back home reported seeing a living room light go on and then off. He was afraid to go in and feed the animals, fearing a burglary might be in progress.

Police responded quickly, approaching our darkened home with weapons drawn. Deciding the thief was inside, they called for reinforcements to surround the house. In short order, the newly formed swat team arrived, along with their “wall of light,” rows of floodlights mounted on a truck bed. It had the power to turn midnight into noon.

Our neighbor friend unlocked the door, and the swat team rushed in, filling the rooms with police presence. After hunting from crawl space to attic, however, they came up empty-handed. Then one of the policemen waiting out back on the unlit side of the house solved the mystery: black shoe prints cascading from a second floor window to the ground. The guy must have rappelled down and run into the woods, he reasoned.

The next morning, Nate received a call at our vacation cabin from the police chief, his good friend. “I think we scared him off before he did any damage,” he concluded. “Nothing looked disturbed.”

Nate was pleased with such a high-powered response from the police department and told our kids the dramatic story. When he was finished, our boys looked at each other and then spoke.

“All those footprints on the house? They’re ours.”

We stared wide-eyed at them, trying to force our thoughts from burglary to boys.

“We just thought it’d be fun to go down with ropes.”

After a moment of silence, we all burst out laughing.

Once we got home, we investigated. The light going on and off? A lose bulb.Things aren’t always as they seem.