O for spacious skys

Sometimes I feel hemmed in by the city’s confines, a dense network of blacktop and concrete, brick, stone, steel and glass. The constant hum of motorized vehicles passing to and fro; the tidy rows of houses with barely enough room between them for a drive way; … and summertime’s open windows mean I hear more than I’d like of neighbors’ private conversations. It’s impossible to escape the noise even in the beautiful green spaces that make up our city’s “Emerald Necklace.” And it’s often difficult to obtain an unobstructed view of the natural landscape.

Most of the time I take it in stride, but this afternoon my mind is traveling to the open fields near where I grew up, and the plots of land once tilled by my grandfathers and great grandfathers, and there the people who still work the earth and fill our grocery stores. Sometimes at the four-way stops on Butler Road just outside my hometown I roll down the windows just to listen. There’s nary a sound excepting the distant bird call and wind sifting through the amber grain and the lush-green stalks of corn. “O beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain…”

Preserving memories

Beside my Dad’s desk is a built-in book case of several shelves lined with three-ring notebooks, each filled with sleeved pages of text and images, each notebook categorized by subject area. There are more such notebooks in the front closet. One is labeled “Elizabeth” for things pertaining to my mother, from her favorite recipes to her military discharge papers and photographs of her with her children.

Another is marked “Webb” pertaining to my great-great grandfather Loren Webb, and his materials overflow into other notebooks since we have a transcript of his Civil War diary, letters and other documentation of his life, including a portrait of his father and many of his Civil War comrades.

There is a notebook pertaining to military service of both he and my mother, and long lists of veterans from the local area and where they served and how long, all typed out by Dad with the “hunt and peck” method.

I think one of Dad’s favorites is the book labeled “Us” pertaining to the life that he and my mother have made together, filled with family photographs through the years and the before-and-after images of the extensive remodeling our family home has undergone in the 65 years my parents have lived there.

This past spring Dad assigned a number to each notebook and then typed up an index list noting the subject area of each. All the notebooks now sit on the shelves in numbered sequence.

After indexing his notebooks Dad announced he was not going to make any more and besides the shelves are full, but I noted that with a new great grandchild on the way, we most certainly would need to make room for at least one more notebook. Indeed, since Helena’s arrival several weeks ago, a steady flow of photographs has been pouring into his e-mail in-box.

I think the moral of the story is that in these days of living fast forward, it’s important to have ways to preserve the past, and to remember it, even the difficult times, and to experience the gratitude of a life well-lived, and to pass on those memories and values to succeeding generations.

Every day my parents have what they call a “meeting”, sitting next to each other on the couch, holding hands, reflecting on the day’s events or the days gone by. These meetings often involve pulling a notebook or two from the bookshelf for the sake of remembering. And often these meetings are punctuated with one of Dad’s favorite words, “Us.” It’s a loaded word, reflecting on all they’ve been through together, the good and the not-so-good.

Sometimes when I’m visiting I sit with them on the couch and hold hands too. And that’s a memory that can only be preserved in my heart.

Happy Father’s Day Dad! I love you.

The last hurrah

The subject of funerals has come up three times in the last couple of weeks and it’s got me to thinking.

Scenario #1, friend Lisa was disparaging of the Catholic Mass performed for her mother. From the perspective of someone whose faith is so vibrant, the religious repetitions seemed empty and meaningless.

Scenario #2, friend Mike whose sister passed away suddenly of a massive heart attack. His brother-in-law asked Mike to conduct the service. True to his wacky sense of humor they came upon the idea to reenact scenes from his sister’s favorite Monty Python movie. Then someone sang the song, I can only imagine, (about what’s on the other side) and Mike talked as friend to friend about his own faith walk and how for him it is about a relationship and not a religion. When he extended the invitation for others to come along on the same journey, quite a few took him up on the offer.

Scenario #3, the celebratory service of my cousin Gretchen (actually my mother’s cousin’s wife but I still considered her my cousin) who left meticulous instructions for how she wanted her service to be conducted. She had fought a long hard battle with multiple myeloma and such suffering can drastically change our perspective on what’s important in life (and in death). It was designed to be one last opportunity for her to share her quiet yet vital faith.

And now I’m reminded of Raymond who struggled with alcoholism much of his adult life and alienated much of his family but in the end he became a hero, attempting to rescue fellow tenants from a burning boarding house. From his dying lips he whispered the name of the One he had come to know in a personal way, Immanuel, which means “God with us.” He had made the choice to follow the God who makes His home with us in the form of Jesus, the One who forgives, heals and restores us from brokenness. Friends made sure he received burial with honors at Arlington National Cemetery and his remarkable story reached the national news circuit.

How do you want to be remembered? Perhaps your answer would change the course of your life if your current direction isn’t leading you to the desired end. You’re never too young or too old to think about it.

Our exit from this life is really not the “last hurrah,” but the beginning of eternity and that’s a really long time. It all hinges on the choice we make today to follow Him... or not.

Rainy day flowers

Taken at the Cleveland Botanical Gardens June 5, 2010. Top to bottom, Dogwood, Habiscus and Purple Foxglove, or digitalis purpurea.

Making a house a home

Though many years have transpired since leaving home, I remain forever grateful for all that my mother poured into my life.

.

For all the seemingly thankless tasks, of changing diapers and wiping noses....

for all the care and nurturing, of a warm meal and a bedtime story...

for all the patient teaching, of tying shoes and making cookies...

for instilling character, of cleaning up after oneself and making amends.

And above all, for making a house a home with her loving presence.

Thank you Mom!

Happy Mother's Day, with much love.

What if

The events being commemorated this Easter weekend by millions of Christians around the world are the foundation of our faith, based on the written testimonies of eyewitnesses to these events. Indeed if these accounts are not true, we might as well call it quits. The apostle Paul said, "....if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith." (1 Corinthians 15:14 NLT).

But if these accounts are true and these events did happen, then the implications for how we live our lives are tremendous.

A person may say that they don't believe these events took place or that they have significance for us today. But the implications are too significant and serious to simply base that conclusion on personal assumptions rather than a thorough investigation of these eyewitness accounts.

Dr. Peter Stoner, Professor Emeritus of Science at Westmont College calculated the mathematical probability that one man could fulfill all of the major Old Testament prophecies about the Messiah. He determined that the probability of one man precisely fulfilling 48 of these prophecies is one in 10^157 (or a 1o with 157 zeroes behind it), or mathematically impossible. And the more specific in detail the prophecies are, the less likely they would occur by chance. Here are just seven:

The soldiers casting lots for Jesus clothing at the foot of the cross was foretold in Psalm 22: 18 and fulfilled in Mark 15: 24

That the Messiah would be betrayed by a close friend was foretold in Psalm 41: 9 and fulfilled in Luke 22: 47-48

That He would be betrayed for thirty pieces of silver was foretold in Zechariah 11: 12-13 and fulfilled in Matthew 26:14-15.

That the blood money paid for Christ's betrayal would be used to buy a potter's field was foretold in Zechariah 11: 12-13 and fulfilled in Matthew 27: 9-10.

That Christ would be scourged and spat upon was foretold in Isaiah 50:6 and fulfilled in Matthew 26: 67 and Matthew 27: 26.

That He would be crucified between two thieves was foretold in Isaiah 53: 12 and fulfilled in Matthew 27: 38; Mark 15: 27-28 and Luke 22: 37.

That Christ would suffer the piercing of his hands and feet was foretold in Psalm 22: 16 and Zechariah 12: 10 and fulfilled in Mark 15:25, John 19: 37 and John 20: 25-27.

What if...?
What if for a time or a season we laid aside our questions and doubts, even though we are justified in having them? What if we realized that God isn't threatened by our questions anyway?

What if we allowed ourselves to consider the possibility that these accounts of Jesus' life, death and resurrection may be true?

What if we allowed our hearts to imagine the possibility that Jesus really does love us so much that he would rather die than live without us?

What if His love transforms our lives....?

Orchid Mania 2010

A few of my favorite photos from this year's orchid show at the Cleveland Botanical Gardens..