The Bean

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Talk about reinventing yourself. Our “Bean” has morphed into six good lookin’ vehicles in six years. First purchased for Hans to get to his college classes from off campus housing, The Bean was practical, short term transportation. Because it cost only $400 and is still purring along today, we think of it as a member of the family. Although it was once posted on Craig’s List and received a good deal of interest, for sentimental reasons a sale couldn’t be made, and the ad was pulled.

When this little car was first purchased, it was a “nasty cream color” so was used as a base for an object-de-art (think graffiti). Not too long afterward, it was painted green, with a brush, out of a can. Because of its new grassy coat, Hans christened it “The Green Bean,” and it’s been lovingly dubbed “The Bean” ever since.

Although an unknowing onlooker might call it “a wreck”, the rest of us describe it as “transportation with character.” The upholstery is stained, the back seat is shredded, the window cranks are missing, the antenna is long gone, the windshield is cracked and rust has ravaged its body, but on the positive side, there’s no need for keeping track of a key; it starts with a screwdriver.

The green of The Bean was followed by a brush-coat of orange so it could attend a costume party as the Dukes of Hazard car, where it won a prize. After that it continued in its coat of many colors with a fresh look every year: blue, red and finally camouflage, perfect for blending in.

The Bean has a built-in hitch strong enough to haul a landscaping trailer twice its size and was used by the boys in their mowing business, Scandinavian Lawn. Last week, in honor of SL and also the family heritage, Klaus refreshed its paint by spraying on a Swedish flag, and today while inspecting the colors, I noticed something special: a copy of the devotional “Our Daily Bread” lying next to the gear shift. Was it an old copy? When I checked, it was propped open to today’s date.

The Bean was originally a 1988 Chevy Nova, but the boys boast of its engine being made to last, by Toyota. With nearly 200,000 miles to its credit, this vehicle has criss-crossed the USA again and again, east to west, north to south, without a pit stop for repairs. The boys say its miles-per-gallon stat is getting better with age, which puts it in the category of a fine wine. Since it draws quite a few looks of wonder from others on the road, we’re fairly sure the rest of the driving world acknowledges its magic.

Police in many states have lavished regular attention on The Bean, and our boys are familiar with the routine. It starts with the squad car bubble gum lights flashing in the rear view mirror, followed by a cynical officer at the window. The boys ask, “Why’d you pull us over?”

The law responds, “I don’t know yet, but I’m sure I’ll find something.”

And yet The Bean slides through examination after examination without being ticketed. Maybe it’s the “Harvard” sticker on the back window or simply a phenomenon of police-pity.

The other day I asked Hans, “What do you like best about The Bean?”

He gave a priceless answer: “It’s a faithful servant.”

And that’s a pretty lofty description for a humble little ride.

“Sitting down, Jesus called the twelve [disciples] and said, “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all.” (Mark 9:35)

 

Trusting 100%

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It was God’s delightful idea to make miniature people and send them to bigger people to raise, a phenomenal plan. And he intends for us big people to learn a great deal from the little ones.

To be a child is to be something spectacular, a person who exhibits innocence, submission, trustfulness. These characteristics are especially true in one-year-olds. I’m privileged to have two of them among my grandchildren, Nicholas, from England, and Skylar, from Florida. And it’s been my joy for the last couple of weeks to have Skylar staying at my address (with her family).

I’ve never known a more enthusiastic person than this one-year-old. She’s up for anything, which includes trying strange foods, meeting new people, petting any animal or swimming in Lake Michigan. When others are hesitant, Skylar is eager.

After she leaves on Monday, I’ll miss her toddler voice and the many clever things she says. Today as I helped her out of her car seat, she cooed at me and said, “Hi, precious Midgee.” How can you beat that?

There are unnumbered good things about Skylar that she shares with all one-year-olds, and having 100% trust in those around her is one of the best. This is a significant charge for the rest of us, to make sure we’re 100% trustworthy in our relationships with them.

The other day Klaus was enjoying Skylar at the beach, asking her if she wanted “to fly.” Of course she was up for it, and he began throwing her as high as his arms could fling her. She squealed with laughter, never doubting for an instant that he’d catch her securely every time. Klaus ran out of energy long before Skylar ran out of wanting to be tossed.

The picture we snapped that day exemplifies perfect trust. Skylar’s face is devoid of worry, and she’s able to take pleasure in an event that actually has the potential to turn out badly for her. She knows how it feels to get splashed in the face or get water up her nose but isn’t thinking of those “what ifs.” Instead she’s trusting all things will work together for good. Haven’t we heard that someplace before?

I am one of God’s children. Hopefully you are, too. The Christian’s relationship to him is based on trusting that he knows what’s best for us, without injecting doubt by unnecessary “what ifs.” We trust the Gospel to be true (see John 3:16) and strive to base our lives on trusting God the Father and Jesus the Son, one-on-one. But there’s the rub: we strive.

We think, “What if he looks away and doesn’t catch me? What if I plunge under water? What if he doesn’t rescue me in time? What if he catches me but the landing hurts? What if I’m too heavy for him to hold me tight?”

The “what if” going through my mind at the moment is, “What if we could all trust God like one-year-olds trust us?”

We’d probably all know how to fly.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)

June 24, 1977

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Any little girl who grows up among four brothers learns how to hold her own. Our Linnea, from the age of two, could “deliver the goods” when necessary, learning early that words hold power. Although the rest of us had trouble keeping a straight face when she lectured in her toddler voice, she got the job done.

She made a good choice in not letting the boys run all over her, and she’s made many other good ones with the rest of her 33 years. The best one was made the day she invited Jesus into her life as a four year old. When her Grandma arrived for dinner that night, Linnea took her upstairs to her room, shut the door and said, “Guess what, Grandma! Jesus came into my heart today, and if you put your hand here [on my heart], you can feel him jumping up and down!”

The day Linnea was born I remember standing at the hospital nursery window with Nate and my parents as the nurse wheeled the clear acrylic bed close enough for us to see this new little relative. “She’ll always be optimistic,” Dad said.

Wondering how he could know this from one quick glance at a newborn, I asked him. He said, “The corners of her mouth turn up naturally, and that’s what that means.”

He was right. She’s always looked for the uplifting detail in every scenario and has been an encourager of others all along the way. It was her optimism that prayed faithfully for a sister (see April 28 blog) and was rewarded with two. Both of those girls, 11 and 13 years younger than Linnea, would say they love their older sister’s non-judgmental attitude toward others and the way she points out the good in everyone. The words, “She’s an inspiration to me” have come out more than once.

Another positive choice was Adam. Although many newlyweds struggle to adjust, both Adam and Linnea found Year One to be the easiest of their lives. That was the calm before the storm, however, as they were devastated to learn they might never have children. Such a blow could drive a wedge between husband and wife but in this case served to bond them tightly. When they were given not one but two miracle babies, they gave God all the credit. Even though raising two-under-two is exhausting, Linnea and Adam never take their children for granted.

Nate was the one who named Linnea, and I’ll never forget him coming to the hospital the day after she was born with a ruffled bonnet he’d bought at Marshall Fields. She was his only daughter for the first 15 years of fathering, and he treated her like a princess, wanting to give her the desires of her heart.

She follows in Nate’s footsteps as a list-maker and Post-it note user, organizing her life and projects well, setting goals and meeting them. Her love for education jived with his, and he was proud of her as a high school English teacher. Linnea didn’t hesitate, however, when the option to be a stay-at-home mom presented itself. Even tenure didn’t hold her at the school, and she’s never looked back.

It’s my great delight to be Linnea’s friend, and I’ve learned much from this daughter. She’s a walking, talking model of the fruits of the Spirit, and because of this, her opinion is valuable to me, and there is power in her words. God sure was good to us on June 24, 1977.

“Pursue the things which make for peace and the building up of one another.” (Romans 14:19)