“It takes a village.”

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I love Hillary Clinton’s book title, because that’s true for all of us. We need each other. None of us gets life right by ourselves, and seeking counsel from mentors is wise, even scriptural. Four centuries before Hillary wrote her book, John Donne put the same idea in different words: “No man is an island.”

Because of Cousin Jan’s visit here from California (yesterday’s post), I’ve been reminiscing about her mom, my Aunt Joyce, who mentored me for 39 years. I clearly remember when it began. I’d just arrived in California as a college sophomore for a second happy summer of living with my cousins. A mob of us had finished lunch, and everyone had left the table except my aunt and me.

She said, “I know you had a great time here last summer, but you can’t be sure it’ll be the same this year. It could go either way.”

I nodded and took it in, thinking about her words long after I’d left the table. Her counsel had been practical and sensible, and in offering it, she’d put a welcome mat between us, inviting me to come to her any time. Over many years, I took full advantage of the offer.

Aunt Joyce faithfully prayed for me and offered counsel until she died in 2005, at the age of 92. Most of her guidance came in handwritten letters which I’ve saved, and I’m looking forward to reopening them one at a time every so often, in order to gain additional wisdom from this godly woman and friend.

It’s possible the miles between us actually enhanced her mentoring. Neither of us had to clean house or make muffins when we “talked”. Our calendars were not clogged with get-togethers, because most of our communicating took place through the mail. But the bond was stronger than distance and bridged several generations. Before she died, she’d begun mentoring our daughter Linnea and was spending large chunks of time praying for each of our family members.

The beauty of mentoring is its non-threatening, non-pressured atmosphere. Aunt Joyce wasn’t my mother, a police woman or a preacher. With all restrictions lifted, she could be herself (the wise aunt I admired), and I could be myself (openly seeking without being judged).

We see biblical mentoring throughout Scripture: Joshua mentored by Moses, Mary by Elizabeth, Barnabas by Paul and of course the twelve disciples by Jesus. And just like I still have Aunt Joyce’s letters, all of us are privy to biblical mentoring through the pages of our Bibles.

When I lost my earthly mentor, she left a void no other woman could fill, so I asked the Lord if he would be to me what Aunt Joyce had been. Although he often uses “the whole village” to bring us through, he’s also just fine with doing it all by himself.

“For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end.” (Psalm 48:14)

No Cousins in God’s Family

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For the last couple of weeks, we’ve had the pleasure of a visit from cousin Jan. Our two families-of-origin began in the same Chicago neighborhood, but when Jan’s family moved to California, a 2000 mile gap separated us. The distance between Chicago and Los Angeles, however, didn’t pull us apart. Our four parents enthusiastically pursued time together, no small feat during the fifties and sixties. “Regular” people didn’t use airplanes without a good reason, like a wedding or funeral, but our folks decided togetherness was reason enough.

My first train ride was to California. First plane ride, too. As we visited repeatedly, our cousins’ west coast friends became our friends and vice versa. When we got older, our parents swapped children for chunks of time, which served to cement relationships further. We viewed our cousins almost as siblings, and I remember feeling great joy when Mom said, “If anything happens to Dad and me, Aunt Joyce and Uncle Edward will be your parents.”

During three college summers I lived with these cousins, adopting California as my second home and landing my first real job there (i.e. one that produced a W-2), waitressing in a small diner… with my cousin.

We’ve always labeled Jan “the easiest guest on the planet,” because she fits in so well with what’s already going on. She’s eager to join in and also work with and for us, no task too tough or distasteful.

I’ll be forever grateful she was willing to organize my 388 blog posts with dates, titles, Scriptures and summaries… on a beautiful grid, no less! Although we’ve been keeping her busy, she maintains a spirit of good cheer, finding something positive in every situation.

In chatting about our lifelong cousinly relationship, asking each other what makes it so good, Jan said, “It’s a comfort to realize you’ve known me since I was born. We have history, and when we’re together, I can just be me. I know we’ll love each other no matter what.” That goes both ways.

What a blessing for someone to be fully known and still genuinely loved. Not everyone is blessed to have cousins who remain this close through decades of time. They might come from small families without any cousins at all, but once we become God’s children, we all have a giant set of relatives. Never mind that his family has no cousins in it. Instead it’s all about siblings, and amazingly, siblings of Jesus himself. That makes us “sisters in Christ” or “brothers in the Lord.”

Once we are in God’s family through Jesus, we have family history with him, too, since what he did on the cross drew us in. He fully knows us yet will always love us.

And when each of us is with the Lord, we can “just be me.”

”The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ.” (Romans 8:16-17a)

Ouch!

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For whatever reason, my bedtime has become later and later. Although I was a keen critic of my teenagers for staying up till the wee hours, the past few months have seen me following suit. I’ve had to eat my words that “nothing good happens after midnight” since God often gives me blog-insights well after that.

At first I tried to camouflage my new “bad habit” by telling the kids, “Last night was just a fluke. I’m still a morning person.” But as the weeks have passed, my lark-ness has morphed into owl-y-ness. Even Jack has complied, dragging around all morning like a record at 33 1/3 speed but zipping up to 78 at night.

If I was living alone, I could sleep late without guilt and have breakfast at lunchtime, lunch at dinner. But with steady stream of visiting family, girlfriends, grandkids and neighbors, coming downstairs for my first coffee at 10:30 doesn’t seem appropriate.

Last night I crawled into bed after 3:00 AM. My final words to the Lord before sleep were, “I know. This is ridiculous.”

This morning God announced a new program for me. Just as he provided a worm to eat Jonah’s biblical vine to get him up and going, he provided a tiny critter to nibble me awake, too. I never saw it, but my best guess about the sharp jab in my arm was a spider. Although we’ve seen quite a few innocent daddy-long-legs in our basement, I’ve always told skitterish kids that spiders aren’t interested in making the two-flight climb to the bedrooms. But when God says go, animals do.

Nate was right when he repeatedly said our battle against woodland critters would be ongoing, since we lived on the edge of a forest. We agreed it would be pointless to call pest control, sort of like trying to keep the bottom of a boat from getting wet.

After this morning’s wake-up, I noticed the clock said 8:00 and knew I needed more than five hours of sleep before tackling my long to-do list. But as I was drifting away, another “ouch” grabbed me, and so it went for 45 minutes.

Ouch, awake, asleep.                Ouch, awake, asleep.

God persevered, though, and eventually I got his message. My thought had been more sleep; his was more hours in my day.

One of the magnificent things about God is how creative he is in achieving his goals. That’s good news for those of us who hunger for his participation in our lives. Oftentimes he allows painful circumstances, but being the recipient of God’s personal attention always includes a positive undercard. If we’re willing to respond, we’ll eventually experience the good stuff.

This morning’s unique wake-up call left a welt that’ll disappear tomorrow. Maybe tonight God will prompt me to simply set my clock. Or maybe he’ll direct another critter to climb the stairs. In the mean time, where’s that number for pest control?

“The Lord God provided a vine… to ease [Jonah’s] discomfort, and Jonah was very happy about the vine. But at dawn the next day God provided a worm, which chewed the vine so that it withered.” (Jonah 4:6-7)