Thank a Family Caregiver this November!

 

Our society must make it right and possible for old people not to fear the young or be deserted by them, for the test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members. 

-Pearl Buck

Each year, November is designated as National Family Caregivers Month, a fitting time to remember with gratitude those who give their lives to care for others. In this season of reflection on our many blessings, most of us can think of someone whose sacrificial work has enriched our lives and the lives of those we love.

Family caregivers are a national treasure, easing the caregiver crisis while ensuring the well-being and health of a beloved family member. Their job is a hard and often thankless one. They are the unseen backbone of society: parents, grandparents, in-laws, children, siblings, and other family members who set aside their own dreams to care for the defenseless and vulnerable.

Caring for those who can't care for themselves are the hands and feet of the Savior Himself, reaching out to the broken. The price is high; the joys immeasurable. We serve the best and highest in humanity when we stand beside those who cannot fight for themselves.

This month, as we thank God for His mercy and blessings, take a moment and thank God for the caregivers. I'm sure they'd appreciate a prayer, too.

https://atkinsbookshelf.wordpress.com/2018/02/21/famous-misquotations-a-civilization-is-measured-by-how-it-treats-its-weakest-members/

Are You Hurting Today?

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When Pain Is a Good Thing

God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.

– C.S. Lewis

It’s deep into football season.

Some players have been sidelined with season-ending injuries, while others limp through the games. In a 2016 ESPN article entitled “How NFL Players Play through the Pain,” staff writer and veteran football player Matt Bowen asserted that nobody on the field after October is truly healthy. The players maximize their ability to play through careful management of their injuries during the week and an injection of Toradol, jokingly referred to as “Vitamin T,” on game day. They know that the pain will come back with a vengeance afterward. The next day may be more brutal, in fact, than when the injury first happened.

For the players, it’s about managing the pain and making it through the important days. For them, the goal is to earn a win for their team and a healthy paycheck for themselves.

For those of us who are not athletes, it may be hard to understand those willing to put their bodies through all that just for a game. It feels wrong to purposely play through a sensation that keeps warning you to stop.

Physical pain, after all, is the body’s messenger, informing us that something is wrong. In that respect, it’s also our friend, because if we didn’t have pain, we would be constantly injuring ourselves. Pain tells us to stop what we’re doing and make an assessment. Sometimes it’s the wake-up call that inspires us to totally change our lifestyles.

Emotional pain may have different causes, but it, too, is God’s shout to us. It’s jarring and perhaps harder to bear than physical pain. It can’t be managed with something as simple as “Vitamin T.”

This kind of pain drives us to ask the questions God wants to answer.

It takes us down and makes us look up. Suffering is the taskmaster that drives us to the Deliverer. In the same way physical pain sends us the urgent message to look for the source of injury or illness, emotional pain sends us an unmistakable message that it’s time to search out our Comforter and Healer.

Pain is a good thing when it awakens us to a new understanding of who we are and what we need to do to find healing. Life is more precious than any game. The stakes are higher, the victory sweeter.

If you're hurting today, God is near, whether it feels like it or not. He'd love to hear from you. He's waiting, and He cares. Talk to Him about what you're feeling, and listen to His Word for you. It will come. There is a reason for the pain and a source for the healing.

You're going to get through this.

 

After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you.

– 1 Peter 5:10

Hungry for More? Discover a Vault of Comfort and Inspiration at CMADDICT.com.

Today's devotional is shared from the treasury of Slightly Obsessed at cmaddict.com. Whether you're slightly obsessed about living for Jesus, totally possessed with hunger for His presence, or just want to learn more about who He is, we invite you to discover new courage for the day in one of the over 260 inspirational articles by longtime caregiver and author Pam Thorson. 

Credits:

https://www.kevinhalloran.net/best-c-s-lewis-quotes/
http://www.espn.com/nfl/story/_/id/14564481/how-nfl-players-play-pain

The Gift

 

It may have been my birthday. 

Or Christmas morning. I can't recall the occasion, but the moment is forever etched in the six-year-old recesses of my mind. For a family of modest means, receiving a brand-new anything was momentous. Receiving a new bike, earthshaking.

This particular day, as it turns out, was especially momentous in retrospect, for I received three life-changing gifts in one fell swoop:

• My very own first bicycle. 
• The ability to ride it by myself.  
• A life lesson from my dad that would forever steer the course of my life.

My first failure

The bike was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen besides my mother. I didn't know how to ride a bike but was determined to try. My step-grandfather, whom I barely knew, was visiting at the time with my blessed little Irish grandmother and offered to teach me. 

Having inherited the stature of Grandma Jean, I could barely even hold the bike. It felt like a tank. Granddad helped me board the beast and supported me while I got my feet situated. Breathlessly, I steeled myself for lift-off. 

The bike slowly rolled forward with Granddad walking beside me, firmly keeping me and the metal upright. Up and down the road we crawled. For the life of me, I couldn't keep the bike balanced on my own. Defeat reared its ugly head as Granddad began to tire.

Then Dad sauntered out the door.

My cool, disc-jockey father with the tight jeans, and wavy black hair strode confidently across the driveway. I adored him and believed he and Mom were invincible...especially together. 

Dad casually took over the reins. Relief washed over me. Granddad had tried, but Dad would know what to do. He always knew what to do.

I resolutely set my feet back on the pedals as Dad balanced the bike for relaunch. As before, we began rolling down the road, Dad holding me upright. 

He began to jog alongside the bike. We picked up speed until he was running with me. That was fun and a bit frightening. 

Then he gave me a push and let go.

He let go. Terror filled me. The act shocked me. 

Why did he do that? 

Panicked, I did the only thing that seemed reasonable at the moment. I pumped the pedals as fast as my my skinny legs would go. A few yards further, I realized I was actually upright and going forward under my own power. 

The fear left, blown away by elation.

My father accomplished what I couldn't do alone.

My dad was one of the most gentle men I've ever known. I would have trusted him with my life. His actions that day, though, seemed to contradict his nature and made me doubt him. His method appeared frightening, even reckless. He didn't explain himself. 

But he didn't have to. He saw what needed to be done and expected me to follow his lead. That sweet victory made it easier to trust in a greater Father and in His methods for the greater victories to come.

My beloved papa wasn't perfect, but he never made that claim. He just loved Jesus with his whole heart and loved his family unconditionally all the way to the end. He taught my brother and I to love God. He let us make mistakes growing up, learn how to accept the falls in life, and he never once let us go when crisis hit. He gave us everything he had, the greatest of which was his legacy of grace.

Today's dads have a hard row to hoe.

My precious husband of over fifty years, the father of our five children, is cast from the same mold. I watch with awe at how much he loves his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. He cares for them; weeps for them; prays for them; gives toward their welfare without hesitation. As my mother would have said, he has a hard row to hoe. But he is always in his garden. 

Today's concept of fatherhood is tarnished by the shifting of cultural norms, family breakdowns, and the never-ending attacks from the enemy of our souls. Families are crumbling under the strain. Parents are broken. Children are hopeless.

Our Father in heaven sees it all, and He is hurting. He loves us desperately and longs for relationship with us. He watches the road for the prodigal's return and runs out to meet him. His methods of teaching us how to navigate life may be misunderstood, but He is worth trusting for the victory He relentlessly pushes us toward. Our earthly fathers, shadows of the Everlasting Reality, may not get it all right. 

But they deserve respect and love for the trying. Thank them for that. Lavish grace upon them...the same grace you want for yourself. 

 Happy Father's Day, Dads. You're the best. God bless you.

Where is Your Safe Place in a World Falling Apart?

 

In Him, you also, after listening to the message of truth,

the gospel of your salvation – having also believed,

you were sealed in Him with the Holy Spirit of promise.

- Ephesians 1:13

When the Thief Comes to Steal

In his book The Holy Spirit, Billy Graham tells the story of an English missionary who died in India during the early 1900’s.  Immediately his former neighbors broke into his home and pillaged it, stealing the man’s possessions.  The English Consul was notified, and the official went to the missionary’s home.

Since there was no knock on the door, the official simply pasted a piece of paper across it and affixed the seal of England on it.  No one dared to break the seal, because at that time, that seal represented the world’s most powerful nation.  The power of England stood behind a piece of paper on the door.

In the same way, when we are saved, the Holy Spirit takes up official residence within us – effectively “sealing” us for Himself by His power and authority.

The Greek word for “seal” means “to confirm” or “to impress,” and it is used three times in the New Testament in connection with believers.  This sealing represents two important concepts:  security and ownership.

An Irrevocable Decree

Sealing in the sense of security is illustrated in the sealing of Daniel in the lion’s den (Daniel 6:17), and in the irrevocable seal of the king in spoken of in Esther 3:12 and 8:8. The Greek word is used in Matthew 27:65-66 to describe the Roman seal on Jesus’ tomb and is the same word used in other New Testament scriptures to speak of the seal of the Holy Spirit.  It meant that whatever was under that seal was not to be opened except by order of the king.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered 

This seal also signifies ownership.  In Jeremiah 32:10 we read that the prophet bought a piece of property, paid for it in front of witnesses, and sealed the purchase in accordance with the law and custom, making him the legal owner.

History tells us ancient Ephesus was a port city, carrying on an extensive trade in lumber.  A merchant looking for lumber would walk through the timber, select what he wanted, and stamp it with his own signet, or sign of ownership.  When he was ready for the lumber, he would send an agent with the signet to locate all the timber carrying his seal.  His agent would then claim and take all the lumber with the master’s mark on it back to the man who bought it.

In the East, a seal on a document was more important than the signature.  The signet used to imprint a seal usually sat in a ring and was inscribed with words or symbols. It often reflected an office of importance.  It was commonly pressed into clay, because of its resulting permanence, although wax was used, too.  Wax was not as desirable because it was prone to melt in the hot sun.  Clay hardened over time, so that the clay itself would actually have to break in order to break the seal.

We are the clay.  God is the master, and Jesus has bought us.

The imprint of God has been impressed into our hearts, sealing us by the authority of the Lord on High.  We are now His, under His protection.  The power of all heaven stands behind His mark.  He is sealed in us.  He can’t leave without breaking the clay and His promise to never leave or forsake us.  He is with us every step of the way as we walk through this world.

With this understanding, we can better appreciate the words of the Apostle Paul:

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

- Romans 8:38-39

Not forsaken. Never alone. Under His guard.

Living as we are in a world falling apart moment by moment, God's power and love are the vault guarding us. In Him, and in Him alone, we can live in peace, secure in the safest place on Earth.

Do not fear, Beloved.

Pioneer Files: Fear of Flying, Wild Monkeys, and the Call to Courage

 

Courage is never to let your actions be influenced by your fears.

 -Arthur Koestler

Be strong and courageous, and act; do not fear nor be dismayed,
for the LORD God, my God, is with you.
- 1 Chronicles 28:20

A cold sweat drenches my palms. Fear courses through me in jagged waves. My stomach lurches wildly as the panic ebbs and flows. I am falling, falling, falling.

I am not falling. It only feels that way as the plane jostles in mild turbulence as it skirts Hurricane Bertha. The year is 1996, and I'm on my first international flight to Brazil with my husband, pastor, and his wife.

Not only did I make it there without incident, we had a wonderful trip and returned safely back to the States two weeks later. Along the way I saw the Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco, Bryce Canyon, and the night lights of Miami for the first time from the air. We flew above a lightning storm and watched the light show beneath us. Although it was in the dark, we flew over the city of Caracas, Venezuela, the Amazon River, and the Brazilian capital of Brasilia. We landed in São Paulo on a sparkling day twenty-eight hours after we flew out from the Spokane airport in Washington.

In Brazil we were introduced to its beautifully exotic land and people. We fed bananas to wild monkeys, swam in the Atlantic Ocean, sang worship songs in Portuguese, and drove over hair-raising roads traversing the country. We visited large cities and slums. We held the babies in an AIDS clinic. We wept and laughed and prayed with the wonderful people we met everywhere.

We returned home more thankful for all we have here.

What an amazing journey I would have missed had I given in to my fear of flying and stayed home!

Our family has been in some fearful places since then. God has always brought us through safely with a new understanding of His glory, richer for the losses we've gained.

Lately, doors have been closing and others have been opening. Fear once again sits on the doorstep, baring its ugly teeth and challenging us to pass by. We can stay with what is safe, known, near to the water line of our comfort level.

Or we can take that terrifying step into the skies.

Today the familiar feeling of falling has hit my insides once again. I'm not on a plane right now, but our lives have just entered the boarding gate. God's revving the engines.

Is God calling you out of the ordinary? Are circumstances driving you to the border of the unknown? How do you handle fear when God calls you out of your comfort zone?

Is faith or fear going to win today?

When God Split History in Two: Pioneer Files

 

And He was saying to them all, 
“If anyone wants to come after Me, he must deny himself, 

take up his cross daily, and follow Me."

- Luke 9:23

Most of us know the story of Easter.

Though its name is derived from a pagan ritual not remotely associated with Christianity, Easter is the yearly celebration of Christ's resurrection, swooping in each spring with a bonanza of chocolate bunnies, daffodils, dyed eggs, and budget-crushing baskets. The week is crowned by the traditional Sunday morning church service and Easter egg hunt. It's generally tinged with guilt over which family group to join for The Big Dinner and follows weeks of cantata practice after work. 

Slathered in the usual rounds of the holiday flu, it's still one big, happy celebration, more or less.

Oh, yes, don't forget the empty tomb. Jesus rose from the dead. Can we eat our chocolate bunnies now?

Have we heard the story too many times?

Though the plot tends to get lost in the hype, I really LOVE Easter.

When winter's cold yields to the call of the light, from the barren soil springs the miracle of new life. Each year the resurrection is shouted in glorious defiance of death's seeming finality:

Spring always comes.

Spring always comes.

Perhaps we've seen the Jesus movies, bathed in Hollywood God rays and special effects, one too many times. Perhaps we've heard the Biblical account in isolation from the rest of God's Word to the point it has become just that... a story. 

The ministry, sacrifice, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ is no fable, though. The bloody and supernatural reality of His first coming sent shockwaves throughout the world and split history itself into Before and After. 

Jesus is a man like no other, because He is one hundred percent human and one hundred percent God. The second person of the Trinity, He is described like this in the book of John: 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being.

And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.

- John 1:1-3;14

The disciple is not above his master, nor the servant above his lord.
It is enough for the disciple that he be as his master, and the servant as his lord.

- Matthew 10:24 KJV

Perfect man. Holy God. Did He really need to die?

He didn't have to come to save fallen humanity. He could have left mankind to its own devices after the fall in Eden. He is, after all, God. Father, Word, and Holy Spirit would have been totally justified to have walked away from this wayward planet and the creation that rejected Him. 

The perfect Creator loved his debased creation too much to abandon it. He knew the only way to destroy the works of the devil and redeem us from an eternity of separation from Him was by taking on the form of a man and offering the sacrifice for our sins.  

Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, as He already existed in the form of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied Himself by taking the form of a bond-servant and being born in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death: death on a cross.

- Philippians 2:5-8

He paid a hellish cost, the one we earned, for the redemption He planned from the foundation of the world. 

...knowing that you were not redeemed with perishable things like silver or gold from your futile way of life inherited from your forefathers, but with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ. For He was foreknown before the foundation of the world, but has appeared in these last times for the sake of you who through Him are believers in God, who raised Him from the dead and gave Him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.

- 1 Peter 1:18-20

The empty tomb is our story, too!

The moment Christ rose from the dead, He was declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the Scriptures. All who believe in Him must follow the same path He trod. We are not meant to stand at the foot of the cross and mourn over His sacrifice. We are called to be "crucified with Christ" (Galatians 2:20). 

We are commanded to die to our own desires and be made new in Him.

Parents, grandparents, caregivers, and other believers in positions of trust especially hold a sacred duty to follow in the Master's footsteps. When the lives of the vulnerable and afflicted depend upon us, the precious and fearful mantle of the Savior falls upon our shoulders to die to self. 

All who desire to serve God must follow this path. The Apostle Paul declared:

...I die daily.

- 1 Corinthians 15:31

It was only his old, soulish man who died, though. The new and regenerate man was already reborn into eternal life. With Paul we, too, dwell in bodies that are decaying.

But that won't last.

One day, Jesus will return for His church, the Bride. The dead in Christ shall arise from their graves. The living believers will be translated to join Christ. Tombs around the world will be empty.

As we await His return, we rejoice in Easter Sunday, Resurrection Day. Every day of the year, though, we can shout the victory as we live out both the cross and the resurrection in our bodies.

Jesus is alive! He lives forever more! He will come back for us very soon.

He is risen. He is risen, indeed.

Can I hear an amen?

Break out the chocolate bunnies.

"Free Range" Living Isn't All It's Cracked Up to Be: Pioneer Files

 

Chickens are awesome. 

They're practically the perfect creatures. In exchange for food and water, they produce eggs for breakfast and great fertilizer for the garden. If they're "free range" chickens, they also provide bug control. Though they will peck each other to death, they're generally mild-mannered around humans.

Just don't fence them in. 

Poultry have a big problem accepting boundaries. They were hatched to be free and will exploit every weakness in your defenses for an opportunity to run amok through your flowers. They can dig under and fly over every fence known to man if given half a chance. If allowed to roam, they will ravage the herb garden, uproot up the new mums, rearrange the ground cover, transfer the new mulch from the flower bed to the driveway, and taste just a bit of each tomato on the vine - unless it a ripe one. 

That one they will devour.

They favor freshly-painted decks and door mats upon which to do their business, though they're not above depositing a little surprise in the grass for you to find when you go out at sunset to close them in. 

An enemy is always watching...

Our particular little flock of barred Plymouth rock hens love to dig under the fence separating their pen from the canyon behind us. They have hefty claws that make short work of a piece of property. If they break through, they will spend a lovely day harvesting the bugs and weed seeds in our neighbor's pasture until time to slip back under the fence at twilight. 

One sunny morning I heard a commotion at the hen pen. I ran out in my pajamas and robe to find they had once again escaped into the field. All except one were frantically scooting back under the fence into the pen, squawking in a cacophony of alarm. Another strange, louder shriek overrode their protests.

Then I saw it.

In the field, a red-tailed "chicken" hawk had one hen trapped against the fence separating our properties. 

I grabbed a nearby shovel we use for such emergencies and confronted him, yelling as I approached. 

He held his ground, wings outstretched to their limit as he met my challenge.

For a moment, I wavered. What if he turned on me?

It seemed there was no other way to save her. I advanced toward him, waving the shovel like a sword and shouting like a wild woman in my robe and slippers. As I got closer, I realized he didn't actually have the hen in his claws. He had her trapped between his legs as he gripped the wire on either side of her. 

Thankfully, he didn't call my bluff, finally relenting in a stir of wings as he flew off.

The hen lost no time finding her way back under the fence to safety.

Later, I examined her and found no sign of injury. 

 

 Boundaries protect us.

It's simply not safe for the chickens out of their pen in our neck of the woods. We've lost chickens to owls, hawks, and coyotes over the years. One year I discovered a coyote dashing across our deck with a hen in its mouth.  Chickens might not like being penned in, but we can't explain to them that we're keeping them safe. They don't understand our language.

Thankfully, we know the language of God.

One of the most sorrowful verses in the Bible is found in Jesus' moving words to the people in Matthew 23:27: 

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were unwilling.

How God longs to care for His people! He is neither harsh taskmaster nor uncaring judge. 

Chicks are fragile. They need just the right amount of warmth and nurturing to survive. If you've ever seen how a mother hen hovers over her chicks, you can understand the self-sacrifice and constant care it takes. 

God yearns to care for us in this same way. This care includes boundaries to keep us out of danger. Oh, how we chafe at the cage separating us from unbridled freedom! How we pull at the leash on our lives.

Is God unkind? Oblivious to our needs? A cruel slave master? 

If you've spent many decades in the yoke, thank heaven for that. If you never had the chance to sow your wild oats or run free, praise your Father in heaven. He has saved you many times over from your Self, and Self is the worst master of all. Self gratification is never satisfied and will keep you chained forever to the carrot dangling just out of your reach.  

 

Thank the Lord that He never abandoned you to the free range, where the landscape is filled with vipers and vultures. 

You are just where you belong. Learn to love and appreciate the wires barring you from destruction. Let God lavish His dreams and hope for you upon your tired heart. Rest under His wings. Find the rest in real freedom.

Pioneer Files: Tell Yourself This on the Hard Days - A Homeschooling Veteran Speaks

 

Mayflower vans and vague memories

Some girls dream of being the first woman president or an astronaut. My young childhood memories consisted of random mental snapshots of places we lived as my father chased a career in broadcasting. Even as a child, I dreamed of a life without a Mayflower van packed with everything we owned sitting in the driveway. 

I wanted a real home, to be a wife and mom. I dreamed of roots, planted deep into something solid and real and secure. When I found my prince, married at eighteen, and began our family, my life felt complete.

A people-watcher and student of human nature from a young age, I figured my stints at babysitting and the trials of having a younger brother had sufficiently prepared me for parenthood. Also, I read Dr. Spock's book Baby and Child Care. That sealed the deal.

I was set.

A better word would be "deluded."

Little brothers are challenging, for sure. And babysitting had taught me to change a diaper. Nothing I'd experienced in my short life, though, had truly prepared me for motherhood. 

Growing a new life into adulthood is the most beautiful experience in the world. The surprise is learning that parenting doesn't have an expiration date. As I had four more children and continued to grow up into my role as a wife and mom, I often found myself watching my parents wade through the seasons of loss and rebirth in their family.

I began to rethink this whole parenting thing. Not in the way of wanting to quit. 

Realizing that parenting is never over.

As much as it hurt to see my folks' struggles and pain, I realized they were blazing the path ahead for me, as they had always done. The next generation learns how to live - and die - by watching the generation before them.

Learning from their mistakes.

Making new ones of our own.

Finding Jesus, the Father's heart, and the way home through it all.

Just for you today

Some things about parenting get easier over the years. Some things get harder. For sure, new challenges arise just as we conquer the old ones. 

If life's been especially hard lately, it's time for a little break. Stop beating yourself up for your real or perceived failures. Pour yourself a cup of coffee, go to a quiet place (if that's possible), and soak in these ten Scriptures from the Father's heart for you. Remember He loves you, He's fighting for you, and it's going to be okay.

Ten Things to Tell Yourself on the Hard Days

And looking at them, Jesus said to them, “With people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

Matthew 19:26

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the eagerly awaiting creation waits for the revealing of the sons and daughters of God.

- Romans 8:18-19

He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness For the sake of His name.

- Psalm 23:3 

 

She has done what she could.... 

- Mark 14:8 

 

And who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?

- Esther 4:14 KJV

 

How precious also are Your thoughts for me, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the sand.

- Psalm 139:17-18 

 

For God is not unjust so as to forget your work and the love which you have shown toward His name, by having served and by still serving the saints.

- Hebrews 6:10 

 

For His anger is but for a moment,

His favor is for a lifetime;

Weeping may last for the night,

But a shout of joy comes in the morning.

 - Psalm 30:5

 

Like a shepherd He will tend His flock, In His arm He will gather the lambs  And carry them in His bosom; He will gently lead the nursing ewes.

- Isaiah 40:11 

I will raise my eyes to the mountains;

From where will my help come?

2 

My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

3 

He will not allow your foot to slip;

He who watches over you will not slumber.

4 

Behold, He who watches over Israel

Will neither slumber nor sleep. 

 Psalm 121:1-4

 

Create Your Own Book of Treasures

 

Like apples of gold in settings of silver,
Is a word spoken at the proper time.

- Proverbs 25:11  

Because I lost my mother at an early age, reaching the ripe old age of seventy last year was a bit of a triumph. Now that my father is gone, the realization has hit - as my brother recently told me - our generation is "queued up" to be next at the finish line. A rough patch of health issues and family trials has me understanding a lot more about my dad's penchant for nostalgia and his wistful recounting of the old days. I know now why my mother wept for her daddy years after he was gone. 

The love never dies. 

Many times I've longed to revisit the familiar and gentler days in my own life, vignettes dipped in gold, rough edges mercifully softened by time. God is the faithful editor of our life story. He covers the sins, redeems the failures, and restores the brokenhearted. 

I yearn for those I've lost along the way, some of whom are still alive. Others, like my parents, are gone but left a rich heritage behind. My father gave me Mother's study notebooks after her death in 1994, simple spiral-bound notebooks you can find in most discount stores. Along with the careful Bible notes she kept in her beautiful handwriting I found random notes on stray pages: a long-lost phone number, a prayer request from a fellow church member, a grocery list. Orphan Scripture references. 

Notes from daily life recorded in the moment.

Some were quotes or memorable statements of others that had touched her enough to write down, ones like this: 

God accepts you the way you are, but He loves you too much to let you stay that way.

Those books are among my treasures. They are living testaments to the essence of the woman, touching her soul, remembering her spirit, teaching me from beyond the grave. Now that I'm officially an old person, I realize the importance of sharing our hearts with the people we love. 

Give the gift of your soul for those you leave behind.

Last Christmas, my thoughtful eldest daughter gave me a lovely journal. It is a vintage red leather. The color is dark and distressed to appear aged. The blank pages inside have a appearance of being very old, like in the kind of book you might find in a Hobbit library. It's almost too special to write in. I've decided to make it my Book of Treasures. In it I plan to write moments and Scriptures and where my soul is on any given day. Things I want to remember and yearn for my children to know.

This kind of treasure can be just as easily immortalized in a dollar store notebook. Like humans, the gold is not always evident by the outside appearance. It doesn't matter what it looks like on the surface. 

Keeping a journal doesn't have to be lengthy or hard. 

Just write. Small moments. Stray Scriptures that speak to you. Memorable quotes. Events like the baby's first tooth, burying a beloved pet, or saying hello to a new one. Write your spouse's tears or your child's smile and what you cherish about them. One sentence will do. You don't have to be eloquent or wordy.

Share your soul, your spirit, your joys with those who will follow and will need to hear your voice, even if it is from beyond the veil. You never know when your words can give life and hope to someone who desperately needs it.

As hard as it may be for you to imagine now, one day it will become their book of treasures.

Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.

- Matthew 13:52 ESV