Nate’s Notes

Posted on by

Anyone who’s lost someone they love through death is acquainted with the harsh finality of the separation. No new photos of that person, no fresh conversations, no advice or opinions, no notes or cards.

Earlier this week when my Hope Chest revealed a whole bagful of Nate’s handwritten notes that I hadn’t remembered saving, my heart skipped a beat, and I gave the bag a big hug. I believe God led me to those notes to help me develop a spirit of gratitude within my widowhood. In that same spirit, I share a sampling here with you.

Rising by 5:00 am every morning to make his long commute to Chicago’s Loop, Nate and I didn’t connect on workday mornings. Instead his greeting to me was a 3 x 5 card, usually propped against the coffee pot. Despite the financial crucible he was experiencing at the time, a positive tenor flowed through his messages. Reading them from my current position without him, has been inspirational.

(No need to read them all, if you can even read them at all!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s good for each of us to ask, “When my family is disposing of my things, what statements will my life be making?”

If I could choose one theme I’d like them to find, it would be gratitude, and not just gratitude in general, but gratitude to God. I have a long way to go, but Nate’s notes have inspired me in that direction. Maybe I’ll even buy myself a pack of 3 x 5 cards.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.” (1 Chronicles 16:34)

Visiting with Nate

Posted on by

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 40th 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)

A Modeling Job

Posted on by

Some of us are auditory learners, some visual, but all of us learn by doing. Children are champions at this. They find out about gravity by jumping off the top bunk, about swimming by wading into water over their heads, about cooking by burning themselves on the pan handle, about cleaning by spraying Windex in their eyes, and about flying by leaping off the garage roof.

They also learn by watching us. Whatever we’re doing, they want to do it too, which forces us to screen our behavior through a values-filter. Our firstborn, Nelson, was willing to follow any example.

One warm day I pulled the hose out for his playtime, and our litter of 8 puppies came running. As the driveway puddled with water, they began lapping it up, and I went for my camera. When I returned, though, instead of pix of puppies drinking, I caught this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nelson simply watched and then modeled what he’d seen.

More than once I’ve heard a pastor tell his congregation, “All of you are being watched by somebody, so be careful how you act.” Parents feel the burden of this, which is one reason why having children is good for us. We’re forced to clean up our acts.

But kids aren’t the only ones watching. When I was a child we sang this little Sunday school ditty:

  • Be careful little hands what you do.
  • Be careful little hands what you do;
  • For the Father up above is looking down in love,
  • So be careful little hands what you do.

That third line is the kicker. Our modeling before others matters, partly because they might copy us, but more importantly because God is watching. Although he doesn’t watch in order to follow our example (yikes!), he does want us to know he’s watching, and Scripture says so. The question then is, does knowing he’s watching make us clean up our acts?

The “Be Careful” chorus has 3 more verses:

  • Be careful little eyes what you see… etc.
  • Be careful little ears what you hear… etc.
  • Be careful little feet where you go… etc.

So, what does it mean to be careful?

Like the song says, we ought not to touch, look, listen, or go, before looking at our Father to see what he’s modeling for us. What example-to-follow is he giving us in each particular situation? The answer is found in the life of Jesus, our perfect model. If we copy him, then our children and others can watch us and imitate what they see, and it’ll work out well.

May we study Jesus and walk in his way, so that when God looks at us, he’ll be pleased with what he sees. I’m not sure where he stands on drinking off a driveway, but it’s probably ok to set that one aside.

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.” (1 Corinthians 11:1)