I sat in the boat surrounded by my comrades
Fog shrouded our little ship
Fierce winds blew us first one way and then the other
When the wind parted the fog, we could see the waves tossing higher and higher
We baled frantically, making no headway as the waves crashed against the sides
Occasionally I glanced toward the back of the boat and still he slept
How could he sleep when our very lives were in danger?
Finally someone woke him with the words, “don’t you care if we drown?”
He woke and looked into our eyes and said to the wind and the waves, “Peace, be still.”
I sat in the boat surrounded by my church
A fog of mistrust shrouded our little ship
Fierce winds of controversy blew us first one way and then the other
Waves of accusation tossed us higher and higher
Folks baled frantically, but the waves of mistrust crashed against the sides
Threatening to swamp our little ship.
Occasionally I glanced to the heavens, but He seemed to be asleep
How could he sleep when His own Church seemed to be in such danger?
Finally someone roused Him with the words, “Don’t you care if the ship goes down?”
He stood in our midst and looked into each of our eyes and said, “Peace. Be Still.”
I sat in the boat surround by my family
A fog of damaged relationships shrouded our little ship
Fierce winds of broken dreams blew us first one way and then the other
Waves of misunderstanding tossed us higher and higher
We baled half-heartedly, but the storms of life crashed against the sides
Threatening to swamp our little ship
Occasionally I glanced into the midst of our turmoil and wondered if He was asleep
How could He sleep when our family threatened to disintegrate with each new wave?
In my anguish I cried out, “Don’t you care if we all drown?”
He stepped into our midst, laid His hands on our shoulders and said, “Peace, be still.”
I sat in the boat in the midst of my world
A fog of doubt and fear shrouded my little ship
Fierce winds of a world gone awry blew first one way and then another
Waves of corruption tossed me higher and higher
I had stopped baling because I could make no progress.
Was God asleep, did He not care?
I cried out in my anguish, “Lord, help me lest I drown!”
He stepped into my world and looked into my eyes.
He touched my life and said in a voice only I could hear, “Peace, my child. Be still.”
Monday, May 24, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Jump, Ethan, Just Jump
We were sitting by the side of the pool at the hotel in St. Louis watching Ethan and John “swim”. Actually John was standing in about 4 feet of water, about 6 feet from the edge of the pool and Ethan was standing on the edge of the pool in front of him.
John was trying to get Ethan to jump into the water, but Ethan was fearful that the water was too deep.
Earlier John had taken Ethan into the pool and had him duck his head under the water. They had stood at just about the same spot where John was wanting Ethan to leap. Fear soon turned into panic and the recently turned six-year old just couldn’t make the jump.
“I’m right here, Ethan. I will catch you so nothing can happen to you.” John pleaded with Ethan to “just jump, Ethan, just jump!”
But Ethan was having none of it. The water looked too deep to him and he knew if he “just jumped” water would go into his nose and then what would happen…he couldn’t “just jump.”
His daddy continued to encourage him, cajole him, coax him, even became stern with him, but nothing would move Ethan from the edge of the pool into the water.
Meanwhile a boy of about 8 was watching from off to the side.
Suddenly without warning this boy ran and leaped from the edge right next to Ethan into the water right next to John.
He waded to the steps and then did it again, this time causing a large ripple of water.
Ethan stood up straighter and watched as one more time the boy ran and leaped, this time turning his body half-way-round so he landed facing Ethan instead of away from him.
Suddenly, Ethan leaped from the edge of the pool and landed right in front of John. Joy suffused both their faces and John praised Ethan for his overcoming his fear. Soon Ethan was climbing out of the pool and leaping toward John over and over. In fact, John had to keep backing up to keep from being dive-bombed by a six-year-old.
Many times in life God stands in the water of our lives encouraging us to “just jump” assuring us that He is there to catch us. We hesitate because the water looks too deep and we just aren’t sure what will happen if we just leap. “Moments” pass and we know we should trust Him, but it is too scary.
Then someone, sometimes even just a stranger, comes along and leaps into the pool and we see that He was right and we can really do it. We leap, we land o.k. and joy suffuses our entire being. We realize that we should have been able to “just jump” but we are grateful that someone else came along and showed us the way.
John was trying to get Ethan to jump into the water, but Ethan was fearful that the water was too deep.
Earlier John had taken Ethan into the pool and had him duck his head under the water. They had stood at just about the same spot where John was wanting Ethan to leap. Fear soon turned into panic and the recently turned six-year old just couldn’t make the jump.
“I’m right here, Ethan. I will catch you so nothing can happen to you.” John pleaded with Ethan to “just jump, Ethan, just jump!”
But Ethan was having none of it. The water looked too deep to him and he knew if he “just jumped” water would go into his nose and then what would happen…he couldn’t “just jump.”
His daddy continued to encourage him, cajole him, coax him, even became stern with him, but nothing would move Ethan from the edge of the pool into the water.
Meanwhile a boy of about 8 was watching from off to the side.
Suddenly without warning this boy ran and leaped from the edge right next to Ethan into the water right next to John.
He waded to the steps and then did it again, this time causing a large ripple of water.
Ethan stood up straighter and watched as one more time the boy ran and leaped, this time turning his body half-way-round so he landed facing Ethan instead of away from him.
Suddenly, Ethan leaped from the edge of the pool and landed right in front of John. Joy suffused both their faces and John praised Ethan for his overcoming his fear. Soon Ethan was climbing out of the pool and leaping toward John over and over. In fact, John had to keep backing up to keep from being dive-bombed by a six-year-old.
Many times in life God stands in the water of our lives encouraging us to “just jump” assuring us that He is there to catch us. We hesitate because the water looks too deep and we just aren’t sure what will happen if we just leap. “Moments” pass and we know we should trust Him, but it is too scary.
Then someone, sometimes even just a stranger, comes along and leaps into the pool and we see that He was right and we can really do it. We leap, we land o.k. and joy suffuses our entire being. We realize that we should have been able to “just jump” but we are grateful that someone else came along and showed us the way.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Love is Patient
Recently I was asked to read I Corinthians chapter 13 as a part of the worship service. Most of us are familiar with this chapter from weddings, it is often called “The Love Chapter”. I have read it dozens of times.
Here are verses 4 through 13 of that chapter:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
As I practiced it aloud in preparation for reading it in front of the congregation, I was struck in a new way what Paul was talking about. And I was convicted of my failure to live out these verses. Jesus told us that loving one another as we love ourselves is half of all we need to do to keep God’s commandments. We forget what love means but Paul spells it out for us.
This has been a hard winter for many in our country, and as a result many of us have forgotten what love means. We grumble about the economy and joblessness and loss of lifestyle. We point fingers and blame and critique every move of everyone in government and big business.
I fear that as a society we are slipping further away from really living out a lifestyle of loving one another.
Paul begins with “love is patient”. We need, I need, to remember to be patient with others. Patient with the car ahead of me that is moving a bit too slowly. Patient with the older person with their cart parked in the aisle while they ponder the shelves. Patient with that child that is too tired to behave the way we think they should. Patient with an economy that is slower to recover than I want it to.
Maybe if we/I practice patience my world will become a more happy place, maybe it won’t matter quite so much because I will be happier.
Maybe, just maybe, the idea of patience would be good for our society, our world.
Here are verses 4 through 13 of that chapter:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
As I practiced it aloud in preparation for reading it in front of the congregation, I was struck in a new way what Paul was talking about. And I was convicted of my failure to live out these verses. Jesus told us that loving one another as we love ourselves is half of all we need to do to keep God’s commandments. We forget what love means but Paul spells it out for us.
This has been a hard winter for many in our country, and as a result many of us have forgotten what love means. We grumble about the economy and joblessness and loss of lifestyle. We point fingers and blame and critique every move of everyone in government and big business.
I fear that as a society we are slipping further away from really living out a lifestyle of loving one another.
Paul begins with “love is patient”. We need, I need, to remember to be patient with others. Patient with the car ahead of me that is moving a bit too slowly. Patient with the older person with their cart parked in the aisle while they ponder the shelves. Patient with that child that is too tired to behave the way we think they should. Patient with an economy that is slower to recover than I want it to.
Maybe if we/I practice patience my world will become a more happy place, maybe it won’t matter quite so much because I will be happier.
Maybe, just maybe, the idea of patience would be good for our society, our world.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
and it's a hole-in-one!
Two weeks ago we had our 4th annual Family Reunion at our usual place up near the Dells in central Wisconsin. This was the best one yet. For a few hours we had the whole family together but for most of 4 days it was Ethan and his parents and Bill and me.
Despite the forecast at the beginning of that week, the weather was beautiful so we got to do hiking every day; Ethan did LOTS of “harvesting” and collecting with each one in the family. We went to the indoor water park several times and we took advantage of the new and improved miniature golf course.
Since it was November, and threatening rain, and just a bit windy, we ended up with the mini-golf course all to ourselves. That meant we could take our time and “golf” at our own pace.
Ethan was eager to begin and barely waiting for Daddy’s instructions, hit the ball on Hole One. It landed too far from the cup so, as he has done since he was eighteen months old, he picked up his ball and moved it closer to the cup and then shoved it in using his golf club like a croquet mallet.
John decided this was a good time to teach Ethan a few of the finer points of mini-golf and some of the rules of golfing with a group. Being only 5, Ethan was a bit impatient with his father’s instructions and wanted to just get on with the game. But John was incredibly patient and gently instructed Ethan on how to hold his golf club to get the most accuracy from his hit. John also patiently reminded Ethan that he couldn’t just pick the ball up and move it, nor could he dribble it down the green like a soccer ball (he had played soccer most of the summer).
When Ethan seemed to be at the end of his patience and beginning to be too frustrated, John relaxed and let him dribble the ball into the cup. John achieved a wonderful balance of instruction and insistence on following the rules with letting Ethan be the little kid that he really is.
Much to our mutual surprise and delight, Ethan quickly developed a surprising accuracy, especially with his first whack of the ball. Inevitably his ball went right through the hazard, or over the moguls; he avoided the “water hazards” and the “sand traps”. In fact, he hit a Hole-In-One on about the 6th or 7th hole. We were astounded and Ethan was overjoyed. Suddenly miniature golf was more fun than he thought.
Eventually we each had a hole-in-one (John had two). By the time we finished the (most difficult of them all) eighteenth hole, Ethan insisted that we “high-five” each other after running around the green.
By now the wind had really picked up and rain was spitting on the parking lot as we walked back to the car. But none of us minded; we had an inner glow that kept us warm.
Bill and I feel ever blessed to have the family God has given us. Our family retreats are a great joy to us. We rejoice that our girls want to spend this time with us and are willing to sacrifice their schedules to participate. It is ever a delight that our grandson crows with joy at the thought of going to “the cabin” again. And how can we even begin to explain to others the delight we find in our son-in-law. He and Becki have worked out a wonderful relationship in the midst of their stress-filled world. As the stay-at-home (he runs his business out of their home) parent, we could not be more blessed.
John’s desire for Ethan to become all that he is capable of, combined with a patience and gentleness is a gift beyond any of our expectations.
John isn’t perfect ( he is a human being after all) but this past weekend he kept reminding me of my heavenly father. God wants us to learn the rules, he wants us to develop the skills he gave us, he wants us to become all that he designed us to be, but he is ever the patient and loving one who waits for us to be ready to grow in the fits and spurts that characterize most of our lives.
And once in a while, we get a Hole-in-One!
Despite the forecast at the beginning of that week, the weather was beautiful so we got to do hiking every day; Ethan did LOTS of “harvesting” and collecting with each one in the family. We went to the indoor water park several times and we took advantage of the new and improved miniature golf course.
Since it was November, and threatening rain, and just a bit windy, we ended up with the mini-golf course all to ourselves. That meant we could take our time and “golf” at our own pace.
Ethan was eager to begin and barely waiting for Daddy’s instructions, hit the ball on Hole One. It landed too far from the cup so, as he has done since he was eighteen months old, he picked up his ball and moved it closer to the cup and then shoved it in using his golf club like a croquet mallet.
John decided this was a good time to teach Ethan a few of the finer points of mini-golf and some of the rules of golfing with a group. Being only 5, Ethan was a bit impatient with his father’s instructions and wanted to just get on with the game. But John was incredibly patient and gently instructed Ethan on how to hold his golf club to get the most accuracy from his hit. John also patiently reminded Ethan that he couldn’t just pick the ball up and move it, nor could he dribble it down the green like a soccer ball (he had played soccer most of the summer).
When Ethan seemed to be at the end of his patience and beginning to be too frustrated, John relaxed and let him dribble the ball into the cup. John achieved a wonderful balance of instruction and insistence on following the rules with letting Ethan be the little kid that he really is.
Much to our mutual surprise and delight, Ethan quickly developed a surprising accuracy, especially with his first whack of the ball. Inevitably his ball went right through the hazard, or over the moguls; he avoided the “water hazards” and the “sand traps”. In fact, he hit a Hole-In-One on about the 6th or 7th hole. We were astounded and Ethan was overjoyed. Suddenly miniature golf was more fun than he thought.
Eventually we each had a hole-in-one (John had two). By the time we finished the (most difficult of them all) eighteenth hole, Ethan insisted that we “high-five” each other after running around the green.
By now the wind had really picked up and rain was spitting on the parking lot as we walked back to the car. But none of us minded; we had an inner glow that kept us warm.
Bill and I feel ever blessed to have the family God has given us. Our family retreats are a great joy to us. We rejoice that our girls want to spend this time with us and are willing to sacrifice their schedules to participate. It is ever a delight that our grandson crows with joy at the thought of going to “the cabin” again. And how can we even begin to explain to others the delight we find in our son-in-law. He and Becki have worked out a wonderful relationship in the midst of their stress-filled world. As the stay-at-home (he runs his business out of their home) parent, we could not be more blessed.
John’s desire for Ethan to become all that he is capable of, combined with a patience and gentleness is a gift beyond any of our expectations.
John isn’t perfect ( he is a human being after all) but this past weekend he kept reminding me of my heavenly father. God wants us to learn the rules, he wants us to develop the skills he gave us, he wants us to become all that he designed us to be, but he is ever the patient and loving one who waits for us to be ready to grow in the fits and spurts that characterize most of our lives.
And once in a while, we get a Hole-in-One!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
I Want to Learn, Learn, Learn…
We met them, Ethan and his Mom and Dad, in Elkhorn for lunch. As soon as the last bite was swallowed we were out the door and headed to the Apple Barn Orchard and a day of harvesting and other adventures yet to unfold.
Ethan was so excited he could hardly keep his feet on the ground.
We drove down the long country road and up ahead we could see the trees planted in careful rows and bent sometimes to the ground with red orbs of fruit. By now Ethan was bouncing with excitement – a good time to remind him of the rules of apple picking in an orchard. Then we drove past the pumpkin patch and his excitement overflowed until all of us were caught up in anticipation of the activities ahead.
Even though the day was overcast and threatening rain, the parking lot was fairly crowded as we made our way carefully between family groups and kids pulling wagons loaded with produce. Ethan crowed with delight when he saw two kids sitting on huge pumpkins in a wagon pulled by their grandfather.
We purchased the largest bag available for apple harvesting and made our way into the orchard. “Where are the apples we want to pick?” Ethan wanted to know. Becki pointed out that each row was marked by a clear sign telling the type of apple trees planted in that row. As a further reinforcement, Becki made Ethan read the sign of rules before we began, he read without hesitation. We made our way to the Ida Red row and tried to decide with which tree to begin. The trees loaded with ripe red fruit beckoned with promises of pies, and sauce, and apple-crisp, and dried apples and…
Ethan’s first attempt at picking resulted in harvesting twin apples and he held them as he would some precious treasure. Soon, however, the bag was full and we debated about purchasing a second bag, but Becki knew it would take her awhile just to deal with the harvest we had.
We took our loaded bag back to the car and returned to select a few pumpkins. The patch held an overwhelming number of orange and green fruits of every size and shape imaginable. It took us quite awhile to find one giant specimen that fit Ethan’s needs for carving and then a smaller one for decoration. We lugged these two orange beauties back to the stand and Grandma picked out a warty pumpkin for herself from the wagon.
It was time for a treat break so with cups of hot cider and a bag of apple donuts we headed to one of the picnic tables. We watched as dark clouds scudded across the sky. Refortified with the treats we went into the barn and looked at the numerous apple and pumpkin related crafts and products available. Ethan walked out with a jar of calico popping corn and Grandma had a jug of cider.
The dark clouds continued to pile up, but we decided we could risk a hay ride, especially since the wagon had a roof over the hale bales. Two trips around the orchard was a delightful amount of rest and gave us an overview of at least a part of the orchard.
Grandma was dropped at home to begin supper while the rest of the gang went to see the “Squash Guy” here in Janesville. Supper was just about ready when the gang returned loaded down with squash and gourds of every shape and size imaginable. Aunt Deb and the two dogs arrived soon after and we gathered around the table to enjoy a hot meal and recount the delights of the day. While the rest of the gang cleaned up after the meal, Ethan and I went downstairs to raid Grandma’s “Fall Box”. Ethan chose a number of dried seed pods, nuts and other decorations some of which he would take home, the rest to “play” with then. We carried his bounty upstairs and soon he had rows of “harvest” laid out on the living room floor. As he displayed them in rows of like items, he named them using all the different names of squash he knew. When he ran out of names he knew, he made up likely sounding names based on seed catalogs, identifying books, visits to the Farmers Market (in both Janesville and Chicago).
Ethan loves to know the names of things. He wants to know the name of all the flowers in any garden he sees. He wanted to know the names of all the apples, all the squash, all the gourds, all the… He is enchanted when he finds a new book at the library that helps him identify the names of any number of things (shells, leaves, trees, flowers, insects, reptiles…well, you get the idea). He not only wants to know the common names, but he loves knowing the Latin names. He is unaware that quoting Latin might sound precocious and even arrogant he just wants to know.
He went off to kindergarten this year, after 3+years of preschool, and we all held our breath. We called him when he got home from his first day and he excitedly told us that he was learning Spanish, had Art, had Phy Ed. and… The only reason he is able to have all these different classes is the parents in their neighborhood in Chicago raised enough money on their own to pay for the extra teachers. We (his parents, grandparents and aunts) wonder what will happen when Ethan knows more than his teachers, but we will cross that bridge when it happens.
To our mutual delight Ethan wants to learn!
He has a thirst for knowledge, to know the names of things, to know how to grow things, how to cook things, how to play certain games, how to…
Bill and I get immense joy participating in contributing to his knowledge. What a privilege we have!
Hopefully some day Ethan will also have a great thirst to know more and more about God, about being his child, about how it works to be a Christian in this crazy world we live in.
As I get older, my thirst to know God seems to grow instead of diminishing. The more I learn, the more I want to know, to understand, to figure out. I can’t seem to get enough. My favorite kind of friend is one who will discuss with me, debate with me, share with me about their own knowledge of God and themselves and how it all fits together. I am blessed beyond words that my husband and my family fill this role, and God has given me many friends besides.
There are days when it seems like Ethan would rather learn, and revel in his knowing, than play with the fabulous toys that are available for kids these days.
Oh that each of us would thirst so to know God, and find it more satisfying that the most elaborate entertainment that man can devise. The Psalmist says, “Oh taste and see that the Lord is GOOD, His love endures forever.”
Ethan was so excited he could hardly keep his feet on the ground.
We drove down the long country road and up ahead we could see the trees planted in careful rows and bent sometimes to the ground with red orbs of fruit. By now Ethan was bouncing with excitement – a good time to remind him of the rules of apple picking in an orchard. Then we drove past the pumpkin patch and his excitement overflowed until all of us were caught up in anticipation of the activities ahead.
Even though the day was overcast and threatening rain, the parking lot was fairly crowded as we made our way carefully between family groups and kids pulling wagons loaded with produce. Ethan crowed with delight when he saw two kids sitting on huge pumpkins in a wagon pulled by their grandfather.
We purchased the largest bag available for apple harvesting and made our way into the orchard. “Where are the apples we want to pick?” Ethan wanted to know. Becki pointed out that each row was marked by a clear sign telling the type of apple trees planted in that row. As a further reinforcement, Becki made Ethan read the sign of rules before we began, he read without hesitation. We made our way to the Ida Red row and tried to decide with which tree to begin. The trees loaded with ripe red fruit beckoned with promises of pies, and sauce, and apple-crisp, and dried apples and…
Ethan’s first attempt at picking resulted in harvesting twin apples and he held them as he would some precious treasure. Soon, however, the bag was full and we debated about purchasing a second bag, but Becki knew it would take her awhile just to deal with the harvest we had.
We took our loaded bag back to the car and returned to select a few pumpkins. The patch held an overwhelming number of orange and green fruits of every size and shape imaginable. It took us quite awhile to find one giant specimen that fit Ethan’s needs for carving and then a smaller one for decoration. We lugged these two orange beauties back to the stand and Grandma picked out a warty pumpkin for herself from the wagon.
It was time for a treat break so with cups of hot cider and a bag of apple donuts we headed to one of the picnic tables. We watched as dark clouds scudded across the sky. Refortified with the treats we went into the barn and looked at the numerous apple and pumpkin related crafts and products available. Ethan walked out with a jar of calico popping corn and Grandma had a jug of cider.
The dark clouds continued to pile up, but we decided we could risk a hay ride, especially since the wagon had a roof over the hale bales. Two trips around the orchard was a delightful amount of rest and gave us an overview of at least a part of the orchard.
Grandma was dropped at home to begin supper while the rest of the gang went to see the “Squash Guy” here in Janesville. Supper was just about ready when the gang returned loaded down with squash and gourds of every shape and size imaginable. Aunt Deb and the two dogs arrived soon after and we gathered around the table to enjoy a hot meal and recount the delights of the day. While the rest of the gang cleaned up after the meal, Ethan and I went downstairs to raid Grandma’s “Fall Box”. Ethan chose a number of dried seed pods, nuts and other decorations some of which he would take home, the rest to “play” with then. We carried his bounty upstairs and soon he had rows of “harvest” laid out on the living room floor. As he displayed them in rows of like items, he named them using all the different names of squash he knew. When he ran out of names he knew, he made up likely sounding names based on seed catalogs, identifying books, visits to the Farmers Market (in both Janesville and Chicago).
Ethan loves to know the names of things. He wants to know the name of all the flowers in any garden he sees. He wanted to know the names of all the apples, all the squash, all the gourds, all the… He is enchanted when he finds a new book at the library that helps him identify the names of any number of things (shells, leaves, trees, flowers, insects, reptiles…well, you get the idea). He not only wants to know the common names, but he loves knowing the Latin names. He is unaware that quoting Latin might sound precocious and even arrogant he just wants to know.
He went off to kindergarten this year, after 3+years of preschool, and we all held our breath. We called him when he got home from his first day and he excitedly told us that he was learning Spanish, had Art, had Phy Ed. and… The only reason he is able to have all these different classes is the parents in their neighborhood in Chicago raised enough money on their own to pay for the extra teachers. We (his parents, grandparents and aunts) wonder what will happen when Ethan knows more than his teachers, but we will cross that bridge when it happens.
To our mutual delight Ethan wants to learn!
He has a thirst for knowledge, to know the names of things, to know how to grow things, how to cook things, how to play certain games, how to…
Bill and I get immense joy participating in contributing to his knowledge. What a privilege we have!
Hopefully some day Ethan will also have a great thirst to know more and more about God, about being his child, about how it works to be a Christian in this crazy world we live in.
As I get older, my thirst to know God seems to grow instead of diminishing. The more I learn, the more I want to know, to understand, to figure out. I can’t seem to get enough. My favorite kind of friend is one who will discuss with me, debate with me, share with me about their own knowledge of God and themselves and how it all fits together. I am blessed beyond words that my husband and my family fill this role, and God has given me many friends besides.
There are days when it seems like Ethan would rather learn, and revel in his knowing, than play with the fabulous toys that are available for kids these days.
Oh that each of us would thirst so to know God, and find it more satisfying that the most elaborate entertainment that man can devise. The Psalmist says, “Oh taste and see that the Lord is GOOD, His love endures forever.”
It Takes a Village….
“I’m so excited! I have never been this excited in my whole life!”
And so began a recent visit with Ethan.
We had driven down to Chicago to pick him up for four whole days all by himself with Grandma and Grandpa.
I worried just a bit that we would not be able to live up to his expectations - that he would go home from this visit disappointed and not want to come back again. Becki assured me that he was excited about being with Grandma and Grandpa! The weather was not looking as promising as it had several days earlier so some of our planned activities were not going to happen; I worried again.
Our first stop, on the way to Wisconsin, was the Oasis over the Tollway. Ethan loves eating at the oasis, and it works well for Bill and me because we can each get what we want, even if it is from different vendors. We like to sit in the windows above the highway and wonder about the number of trucks both going and coming. Sometimes we can see what they are carrying, but most of the time we have to guess. We were amazed at how well Ethan could read the messages on the sides of many of the trucks. Only certain cursive fonts seemed to stump him.
We got home and after unloading the car and inspecting his bedroom, Ethan and Grandma went outside to inspect the flower beds and the fish pond. Grandpa went to take a nap, a bit worn out after 5 plus hours of driving.
Ethan had a great time “harvesting” the several seed pods I had left in place for just that purpose. He snipped a few things that needed trimming and pointed out several weeds that he instructed Grandma to pull. Then, oh joy of joys, I allowed him to walk into the soybean field behind our house and “harvest” four beans. This was better than all the seed pods in the garden – maybe because this was real harvesting!
Grandpa was still resting so we grabbed a collecting bucket and a pair of clippers and headed to the Ice Age Trail. Ethan was in his element as we hiked and I allowed him to “harvest” flower heads, seed pods, crab apples, and grapes (including some that were now raisins). We talked about the importance of knowing what you were collecting before you touched it and I pointed out the Wild Parsnip, Deadly Nightshade, Stinging Nettles and several other known poisonous plants. We talked about the importance of NOT harvesting protected plants and making sure there were plenty of each plant left behind to reseed the earth. Everything we collected was growing in abundance and is a common plant.
Our bucket was full when we trekked back to the house. We spent a joyous half hour showing Grandpa the results of Ethan’s “harvesting” and then packaged it all to take back to Chicago.
After a “snack” supper (we had had a pretty full meal at the Oasis) we gathered up the now empty collecting bucket, the shears, our sunglasses and this time drove to a different section of the Ice Age Trail.
This time, oh joy and delight, we found several different flowers, some (wormy) apples and two walnuts. We also saw cicadas emerging from their shells and were able to collect a small container full of the discarded shells.
By the time we got home, we were all tired and after reading just a few pages of Ethan’s favorite Shell Guide book, he fell asleep and we followed soon after.
Saturday dawned cloudy, a bit too cool and not very promising, but we headed to the Farmers Market in spite of the weather. It is amazing to watch how vendors respond to an enthusiastic (and knowledgeable) 5-year-old. He picked out a number of items (at my request) and paid for them, engaging each vendor in conversation, collecting a handful of fallen beans in the process. At the end of our hike up and down the several blocks of produce, we turned back to find a “sweet treat”. We were right by the “bakery lady” and she engaged Ethan in conversation. Soon she was asking him if he would like a cookie and she began unwrapping a big M&M cookie. When Bill said those were his favorite, she handed him the other cookie from the two-pack. I reached into my purse to pay for these “purchases” but she waved me away with, “I’m a grandma too!”
We spent the rest of the day playing in the raccoon cave (our basement). Bill and Ethan watched several train videos while Grandma napped, until Ethan asked Grandpa if he could have some “quiet time” in his room. He was sound asleep in minutes – shopping for produce and playing raccoon is hard work!
Sunday it was off to church. Ethan was rewarded for his good behavior with treats after church. Being the pastor’s grandson brings Ethan lots of attention and he always rises to the occasion and engages a great number of people in conversation.
We changed clothes and then headed up to Aunt Deb’s house. Ethan was excited to see Aunt Deb and to see her two dogs again. After joyous greeting with Ethan and two dogs tearing around Aunt Deb’s yard and the flower beds that we had all worked on two months earlier (which were now a riot of color) we headed to a buffet restaurant where, once again, we could each pick what we wanted to eat and try.
We spent most of the afternoon on a nature reserve island near Deb’s house. The giant oaks on the island were dropping their nuts and soon Ethan’s pockets were filled with oversized acorns. Bill and I ambled the quiet, shady paths and rejoiced as our grandson trooped ahead holding his aunt’s hand, joyously exploring various paths, narrating to her the whole time.
Back at Deb’s house, Ethan traipsed around after her examining all her treasures, flower beds, the dogs and cats and their places in the house. They kept up a running conversation and I soaked up some of Deb’s technique with this inquisitive 5 year old. Her training as a child care worker and years of experience with both children and older adults displays itself in a wisdom I envy.
There was a sense of regret when it was time, after supper, to head back to Janesville. Ethan kept himself awake during the hour ride home looking for trains, animals, and was rewarded with a glimpse of Sand Hill Cranes, Blue and White Herons, and other water fowl.
Monday dawned all too soon, and with mutual regret we packed up all the “harvest” and other stuff necessary for a 5 year-old’s visit and headed back down the Tollway to Chicago. Several times on the trip home Ethan wished aloud that he could have stayed at our house longer – after all, we could have done much more harvesting. So we talked about future visits, and future trips we can take together and soon we were all looking forward to whatever adventure is next.
So, what is the theology from this visit? I could certainly talk about “harvesting”. That was Ethan’s focus for this visit. But for me the lesson was more about community – the community it takes to raise a child. It usually takes both Bill and me to keep this energetic child occupied. We are fortunate that we each have interests that Ethan enthusiastically embraces and so he is happy to be with both of us, or one of us at a time.
It is a delight when we go anywhere (in this case the Farmer’s Market and church) that Ethan easily engages with other adults (and children) and they contribute to his knowledge and well-being.
In times past family often lived within “shoutin” distance of one another and a child could go from extended family member to family member. Bill and I each have such fond memories of a grandparent(s) who was so important during our growing up years. Now we are one or several hours away from each other. We cherish the times we are able to get together with Deb and to watch and enjoy her interaction with her nephew. We could entertain Ethan without her, but we are all the richer when we have time with her. It takes all of us to really do a good job raising Ethan to be a healthy, well-rounded, contributing adult.
It takes many people in my life to make/keep me as a healthy, well-rounded, contributing Christian. Bill and I have a wonderful interactive discussion life about many things. But I also cherish the several Bible study groups (each so different from the others) that contribute to my stretching and growing as a Christian. In fact, every time I interact with another person about my faith (Deb, my sister, perhaps you) I grow just a bit, and sometimes more than a bit.
Books are great, and study of God’s Word is essential, but I would not be whole without the input of many people in my life.
It takes a village to grow a child; it takes a village to grow a Christian.
9/09
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Fireworks!
This was to be Ethan’s first real, up close and personal experience with fireworks and his folks wanted it to be both memorable and convenient. So we gathered at Aunt Deb’s.
We all arrived, from points south, just as the morning’s parade was finishing up. After all the greetings (including the dogs) were done, and Ethan had inspected both his bedroom for the night, and Aunt Deb’s new flower beds, we all hiked over to the park. The park was part of the reason this location was chosen for this first fireworks event.
There was a small carnival set up at the park and Ethan had a great time riding the three “kiddie rides”. I sighed deeply to myself, realizing that this is probably the last summer he will be content with just the kiddie rides.
Three rides don’t take very long, so we also spent time playing at the awesome playground just across from where the carnival was set up. One cotton candy later and it was time to hike back to Aunt Deb’s for our cookout, a time for bubble blowing and more just visiting. Ethan also helped Aunt Deb with a bit of weeding. In fact, he was a bit frustrated that she didn’t have more gardening for him to do.
We waited as long as we could but finally, around 8:15, we packed up chairs, blankets, bug spray and Grandma’s sparklers and headed back to the park. It wasn’t quite time, but we couldn’t wait any longer to be where they would shoot off the fireworks. The excitement was just too great.
On the mile-and-a-half hike over to the park we could see backyard fireworks going off all around us. Some were quite impressive and we wondered that people could spend so much money in these days of economic uncertainty. Judging by Ethan’s enchantment, the day will come when he will want to shoot off their own fireworks too.
We were nearly to the park when the sun neared its approach to the horizon. Suddenly the sky to the west turned orange and the whispy clouds strewn across the canopy turned pink slowly fading to lavender.
“Look, Grandma, there are fireworks in the sky - God’s fireworks!” I grinned at Ethan and we stopped to watch the color sweep further and further along the horizon. Suddenly the backyard fireworks were insignificant as we watched blue sky turn pink, then purple, then blue gray.
It was done by the time we got settled on the hillside overlooking the ball field where the canisters of fireworks were set up and guarded by firemen.
We again turned our attention to the backyard displays and then the more spectacular display of the next town to the north.
Before it got too dark, Ethan, John, Becki and I had great fun lighting the sparklers I had brought for the occasion. I remembered, with delight, my own youth and the enchantment of lit sparklers. Ethan seemed enchanted as well. But soon the sparklers were gone and John gathered up the spent wires and disposed of them in a trash can. I promised to buy more for next year.
We again climbed the hill and waited impatiently for the “real” fireworks to begin. The backyard displays were rapidly losing their enchantment and the display from Juneau was too far away.
I had about run out of distracting conversation when we heard the characteristic pop and the sky above our heads lit up with color.
Soon burst after burst filled the sky and we oooed and ahhed along with everyone else as one burst open before the previous one had finished cascading to the ground.
Ethan gave me a running commentary throughout the whole show. But it was o.k. We were getting to enjoy them together and with the whole family.
And then there was a pause and the ground erupted with color and fountains of light and sparklers larger than if we had lit all my six boxes at once. Rockets burst out of the fountains of sparks and soared to burst in the sky, so fast that our eyes could not take it all in.
The display seemed to go on forever and then, suddenly, it was over. For several moments there was silence, and then the crowd erupted with applause and cheers. We stood en masse and began to gather up our blankets, chairs, water bottles and trekked back down the hill and along the road to Aunt Deb’s house.
Another 4th of July was over.
A quick kiss good bye and Bill and I headed back south to our own bed. It will be a while before the family is able to all get together again.
But, once again, I have lasting memories of a day together. Ethan’s joy in the simple carnival rides, and no less joy with a well-designed play ground; our mutual pleasure at all being together for a few hours; the excitement and wonder of the fireworks bursting right over our heads – what a day! But, best of all for me, the awesome display of God’s fireworks which needs no holiday to repeat itself over and over.
We all arrived, from points south, just as the morning’s parade was finishing up. After all the greetings (including the dogs) were done, and Ethan had inspected both his bedroom for the night, and Aunt Deb’s new flower beds, we all hiked over to the park. The park was part of the reason this location was chosen for this first fireworks event.
There was a small carnival set up at the park and Ethan had a great time riding the three “kiddie rides”. I sighed deeply to myself, realizing that this is probably the last summer he will be content with just the kiddie rides.
Three rides don’t take very long, so we also spent time playing at the awesome playground just across from where the carnival was set up. One cotton candy later and it was time to hike back to Aunt Deb’s for our cookout, a time for bubble blowing and more just visiting. Ethan also helped Aunt Deb with a bit of weeding. In fact, he was a bit frustrated that she didn’t have more gardening for him to do.
We waited as long as we could but finally, around 8:15, we packed up chairs, blankets, bug spray and Grandma’s sparklers and headed back to the park. It wasn’t quite time, but we couldn’t wait any longer to be where they would shoot off the fireworks. The excitement was just too great.
On the mile-and-a-half hike over to the park we could see backyard fireworks going off all around us. Some were quite impressive and we wondered that people could spend so much money in these days of economic uncertainty. Judging by Ethan’s enchantment, the day will come when he will want to shoot off their own fireworks too.
We were nearly to the park when the sun neared its approach to the horizon. Suddenly the sky to the west turned orange and the whispy clouds strewn across the canopy turned pink slowly fading to lavender.
“Look, Grandma, there are fireworks in the sky - God’s fireworks!” I grinned at Ethan and we stopped to watch the color sweep further and further along the horizon. Suddenly the backyard fireworks were insignificant as we watched blue sky turn pink, then purple, then blue gray.
It was done by the time we got settled on the hillside overlooking the ball field where the canisters of fireworks were set up and guarded by firemen.
We again turned our attention to the backyard displays and then the more spectacular display of the next town to the north.
Before it got too dark, Ethan, John, Becki and I had great fun lighting the sparklers I had brought for the occasion. I remembered, with delight, my own youth and the enchantment of lit sparklers. Ethan seemed enchanted as well. But soon the sparklers were gone and John gathered up the spent wires and disposed of them in a trash can. I promised to buy more for next year.
We again climbed the hill and waited impatiently for the “real” fireworks to begin. The backyard displays were rapidly losing their enchantment and the display from Juneau was too far away.
I had about run out of distracting conversation when we heard the characteristic pop and the sky above our heads lit up with color.
Soon burst after burst filled the sky and we oooed and ahhed along with everyone else as one burst open before the previous one had finished cascading to the ground.
Ethan gave me a running commentary throughout the whole show. But it was o.k. We were getting to enjoy them together and with the whole family.
And then there was a pause and the ground erupted with color and fountains of light and sparklers larger than if we had lit all my six boxes at once. Rockets burst out of the fountains of sparks and soared to burst in the sky, so fast that our eyes could not take it all in.
The display seemed to go on forever and then, suddenly, it was over. For several moments there was silence, and then the crowd erupted with applause and cheers. We stood en masse and began to gather up our blankets, chairs, water bottles and trekked back down the hill and along the road to Aunt Deb’s house.
Another 4th of July was over.
A quick kiss good bye and Bill and I headed back south to our own bed. It will be a while before the family is able to all get together again.
But, once again, I have lasting memories of a day together. Ethan’s joy in the simple carnival rides, and no less joy with a well-designed play ground; our mutual pleasure at all being together for a few hours; the excitement and wonder of the fireworks bursting right over our heads – what a day! But, best of all for me, the awesome display of God’s fireworks which needs no holiday to repeat itself over and over.
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