Visiting with Nate

Posted on October 10, 2012 by Margaret

For many years I’ve had a piece of furniture some people would call a “Hope Chest.” Several generations back, every young woman put together a trousseau, beginning in her teens, stockpiling items in her Hope Chest to be used at a future date.

Under the tutelage of a mother, grandmother, and aunties, she’d hand-make dresses, table linens, towels, bed linens, and quilts, adding decorative stitching to make them unique. Her “hope” would be to one day have her own home and family where the carefully collected chest-full of items would become her contribution to the start of her marriage. This tradition continued well into the 1950’s.

I loved the idea of a Hope Chest, though I didn’t have one. But years after I was married, despite having closets loaded with everything I needed, I asked Nate if I could have a Hope Chest for my 40^th birthday. We chose it together, and I filled it with sentimental items I wanted to keep: baby shoes, my Girl Scout sash, the mold of a child’s hand, my first piece of little-girl jewelry, a child’s art project, an engraved drinking cup, and about 50 other things.

This week I decided to dig for something from Birgitta’s childhood that she might appreciate as she approaches motherhood. Gradually I emptied the Hope Chest, enjoying the written explanations and memories accompanying each item. And when I got to the bottom, I found a lovely surprise: Nate.

Even though he’s been gone for nearly 3 years, tucked into the cedar-lined corner was something I don’t remember putting there: a ZipLoc bag full of his handwriting.

Well over 200 notes and letters filled the bag, each one dated, most about 10 years old. Apparently I’d tucked them away before we moved to Michigan in 2009, before Nate’s back trouble, before cancer, before death. Picking up that bag stuffed with his thoughts brought a little squeal of happiness out of me, and I tucked the whole thing under my pillow for later, anticipating a mini-visit with Nate each night for quite awhile. Looking at several pieces just before turning out the light would be a sweet something to anticipate through each day.

I had no doubt my “find” was God’s doing. He’s a Person of deeply felt compassion for each of us. Although he’s far too grand to know him completely, he orchestrates wonderful “flukes” now and then, to let us know he’s very near. The cache of Nate’s notes was a reminder of that, and I shook my head in wonder at what a caring God he is.

When I finally began reading the notes (well over 200 of them), they reflected bits of carefree humor I’d nearly forgotten were part of those financially stressful days 10 years ago. But inside that baggie, God was communicating something else to me: “Please don’t forget.” And his reason?

“…so you can be thankful.”

(Tomorrow: Nate’s notes)

“I recall all you have done, O Lord; I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago.” (Psalm 77:11)

The Price of Commitment

Posted on September 16, 2012 by Margaret

Sundays aren’t as upsetting as they used to be. Watching a husband put his arm around his wife or share a hymnal doesn’t bring tears like it did a year ago, and last Sunday I even felt sincere delight watching the senior couple directly in front of me. As the congregation sang a rousing hymn, they not only shared the hymnal, they shared something else.

The husband, as he sang, occasionally glanced at his wife’s face. Every so often she looked up at him, and they shared a knowing smile. Part of the hymn they sang from memory, to each other, face-to-face. Once he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. As he did, she leaned toward him slightly, just enough to communicate acceptance and love.

On the hymn’s 3^rd verse, these two 70-somethings standing side-by-side, began slowly swaying together, left and right, to the hymn’s cadence. It was so subtle an observer glancing at the congregation wouldn’t have noticed, but since they were right in front of me, I did. And it was charming.

Two things popped into my head: (1) gratitude that I wasn’t crying while witnessing this marital harmony, and (2) when one of them dies, the other will suffer. But that’s the natural consequence of a good marriage. When the time comes, even though tears will flow, the one left behind won’t wish away the years they had together to spare the pain of separation when it ends.

Most of life’s valuable commitments put us at risk for sadness, even sharp, agonizing pain: a happy marriage faces eventual widowhood and loneliness; parenthood brings incredible joy but also the misery of saying goodbye … over and over again; even taking on a family pet includes knowing we’ll one day have to bury it. Our world is full of opportunities to commit, each one involving a sacrifice, a risk, or both.

All except one.

The most important commitment any of us can ever make includes no price to pay at the end of it, and that’s our commitment to Christ. The risk and sacrifice for the greatest treasure on earth was all made by him, not us. Why he would ever agree to do what he did in order to get us is beyond figuring out. With all our imperfections and sins, we know we’re not worth the sacrifice he had to make, but apparently he thought we were. Mindboggling.

Unlike at the end of our human commitments, most of which finish with a goodbye, the final result of a commitment to Christ is an eternal hello and a life so unique and fresh we don’t now have the ability to picture it. The commitments of this world all come to an end, but signing on with Jesus is a forever partnership.

This morning, back in church, I scanned the congregation for the loving couple I’d seen the week before, but they weren’t there. When I asked, I learned they’d gone on a long trip to Europe. A second honeymoon? No, just making the most of an ongoing commitment to one another.

“At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now! The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” (2 Corinthians 5:16-17)

Cyber-words

Posted on August 23, 2012 by Margaret

A few years ago, if you’d have asked me what cyber-friendship was, I couldn’t have answered. Now I not only have an answer, I have lots of cyber-friends. All kinds of readers from every corner of the globe have allowed me to become electronically acquainted with them, and I’ve kept a cyber-file of their stories.

Since my book was published [Hope for an Aching Heart, at left], many people have detailed specific help they’ve received from its pages, and the email quoted below is an example that was deeply moving to me.

Bev writes:

I purchased your book from DHP [Discovery House Publishers] recently, in hopes that it would help me get through the crisis I am experiencing in my life right now.

My husband of 37 years left me without warning, to be with another woman. To say I was devastated would be putting it mildly. I thought my life was over. I thought we would spend the rest of our lives together, but it was not to be. I am having an extremely hard time dealing with this. I saw your book in a leaflet from RBC. Knowing that I am going through most of the same feelings, emotions and challenges that a widow would, I thought maybe this book could be of some help. It’s been amazing!

Ninety-five percent of the book pertains to what I am going through. I just substitute ‘single woman’ for ‘widow’ and ‘marriage breakdown’ for ‘husband’s death.’ I am finding great comfort and help from this book. The prayers at the end of each chapter are wonderful and very pertinent.

Perhaps you could mention it in a blog or elsewhere on your site, that it might be a helpful book also for women who are going through a marriage breakdown and divorce, especially if it’s been a sudden event for them.

God bless you!

Sincerely,
Bev

I’m thankful for Bev’s openness and her willingness to share her heartbreaking story (used with her permission), and I want to encourage anyone enduring marriage struggles to take her advice. The reason she’s found hope is that my book is laced with pieces of God’s book, life-changing truth that can supernaturally jump off the page and into our lives, no matter what the situation. His book is “living and powerful.”

What does that mean?

Hebrews 4 tells us the words of Scripture “discern the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” That isn’t just so it can judge us. It’s also for the purpose of determining what our hearts need so it can help us. Bev found that even though the book was aimed at widows, God met her in her non-widow circumstance because his Word actively discerned her need and then blanketed it with encouragement and love.