Tag Archives: family

An Unexpected Reunion that Rekindled A Promise

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40th reunion

I just got back from a great weekend celebrating a 40th high school reunion. It was fun to listen to everyone talk about the crazy times they had together and allowing us a glimpse into their life stories since graduation…try to pack in 40 years of life stories in a few hours! You hear the best and worst…the stories that possibly had the biggest impact in their life. I enjoyed observing the camaraderie and friendships renewed. The laughter was contagious.  I was glad to be a part of the reunion, even if it was not my own.

It’s highly unlikely that I’ll ever experience my own high school reunion. It’s unlikely because I attended three different high schools within a span of four years. I wonder if there are other people who fall into the “three-high-schools-in-four-years” category.

There is a good reason for attending different schools…we lived in a particular school district for freshman and sophomore years; in my junior year, segregation laws required that I attend a school on the other side of the city; and my father took a new job out-of-state at the beginning of my senior year.

If I had a choice, out of the three high schools to attend a reunion, I would choose the one that holds the fondest memories…freshman and sophomore years. My junior year was a brutal race to survive–I couldn’t wait for the year to end…it was a rough experience for a good many students.  At the end of my senior year, I remember standing in  line, alphabetical order, with people (that I didn’t know) with last names that began with the same letter as mine. I recall introducing myself to them before we walked onto the stage to receive our diplomas, but quickly forgot their names after throwing my cap in the air. I was relieved to get in my car and drive away from high school.

The memories of my high school years are a compilation of bliss and anxiety. Whatever joys or hardships that I experienced during those years of change, helped to shape and define my character and to mold a resolute will to stay the course. I can’t take for granted that God is the author of my story. What I didn’t know then, but do know now is that God was faithfully rescuing me with his generous grace. I wouldn’t trade my life with anyone else.

The best part about moving to a new city at the beginning of my senior year was meeting my future husband…that would take me to his 40th high school reunion one day! Honestly, I never expected this and for certain, my husband’s 40th high school reunion has never been written on my bucket list, but there it is checked off anyway.

While reunions are a lot of work to plan for a short-lived experience, it can leave a positive impact on those that made the effort to come. Besides making new contacts for business and new Facebook friends or following someone new on Twitter, this reunion unearthed many of the early memories my husband and I have of meeting each other as teenagers and eventually making a promise to one another that hasn’t been broken in almost 40 years.

We arrived together at this reunion with a lot of memories from the past but we left with a rekindled promise, a commitment to each other. We have been married all our lives, but not long enough.

My husband commented about a 50th reunion in the future. My answer to that was, “No thank you, we’re going on a cruise!”

Addendum: After my husband read this post, he said that he couldn’t believe I would choose a cruise over a 50th reunion. So, we’ll do both…especially when I just found out from reading a Facebook comment that I’ll always be a part of their reunion, an honorary “Wildcat!”  (Thanks, Sally!)

 

 

 

Rhythm of Cluttered Memories

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Gardening gloves rest on the porch, smudged with years of tending—pulling weeds, shaping shrubs, pressing soft pink flowers into waiting soil. They have hung there for as long as I can remember, draped over the rod, faded and frayed, yet beautiful in their quiet persistence. Some fingertips have worn thin, nearly through, and still they wait—ready to be slipped on once more.

Nearby, a sparrow ornament, rusted and weathered, catches the light. Somehow it still sparkles. Year after year.

Rhythm.

Just a small glimpse into my husband’s childhood home, where rhythm has taken the shape of layered, beloved memories.

We visited his parents recently. Years ago, the clutter unsettled me. This time, it felt different. This time, I felt soothed. The rooms hummed with the gentle rhythm of a life well lived, of good times held and not let go.

The little nik-naks sit where they always have. On the table. In the corners. Quiet witnesses. There are things my children made in grade school—crooked, colorful, earnest creations—still treasured, still kept.

An old stuffed tiger lies on the twin bed. Both eyes are gone. The tail has been stitched back on more times than anyone could count. And yet there it remains, sixty years later. I think every grandchild has slept beside that tiger at some point, its worn fur absorbing generations of comfort.

On the kitchen counter stands a silly wooden turkey, drilled with small holes meant for bright lollipops—because, of course, a turkey should have colorful feathers. When my children were small, they delighted in choosing their favorite flavor from that turkey’s tail. Now it stands featherless, in the same place it has stood for years.

There is a quiet faithfulness in the keeping of these things. She—the one who loves the memories—dusts and cleans, and always returns each piece to its place. Not because it is perfect. Not because it is pretty in any modern sense. But because it matters.

This time, I stopped. I really looked. I let myself be drawn into the rhythm of remembering. And I realized the clutter is not clutter at all.

It is love, layered.

It is history, held gently.

It is a home still breathing with the past.

And somehow, in its steady, unhurried rhythm, it felt like grace.

A Walk With My Sister

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Charlotte Walk with Sister

Upon the end of my spring break away from spring in the Midwest , I had a few precious hours with one of my younger sisters. These hours are few and I treasure the time we have together. I wish to have the same amount of time, no matter how short and brief time allows, with my other siblings. Space in distance and expense upon travel does not help to make our visits frequent and planning ahead will be imperative.

This particular walk with this younger sibling was refreshing. Our conversation revolved around becoming more like Jesus and less about ourselves. I heard her voice and she heard mine. We both want more of Jesus.

We walked through her neighborhood while conversing about life. I told her about my angst in starting over in our new home and she told me how God is filling her life with more of Him. This was so encouraging for me! I thrill to hear my sister tell me how she is loving Jesus more; how God has transformed her heart. This sharpens me. Her steady and consistent relationship with Jesus motivates me to have the same.

A walk with my sister

We walked and  talked about all sorts of things that may bring angst and uncertainty to both of us. We stopped along our walk to soak in the beauty of God’s creation. I am in awe of God’s grace. So very thankful for a walk with my sister to help me focus on an omniscient God.

Our ups and downs have no comparison to those who struggle with much more. I feel less in character when I compare our [my] struggles with someone else facing far more than me.

This walk with my sister has caused me to think beyond my sweet home front.

Beyond…

After Memories Fade

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After the Storm

My father’s swing in his back yard

He holds fast to the memory attached to this swing. He would watch his beloved read books in the shade while gently swaying. He would sit beside her in the evenings while sipping on cool ice tea. Friends and family would arrive for visits and race to be the first one to sit on the swing. Folding chairs were hauled out from the garage and placed in a half-moon circle facing the swing. Sweet times and pleasant memories.

There has always been a wooden  swing in the back yard or one hanging on the back porch. Pillows were added for a comfortable touch and cozy enough to lay down and take a nap. He would tie a rope on a branch of a tree or from a corner of the porch, long enough to reach the person sitting in the swing. We would stretch out on the swing, give the rope a tug and rock ourselves to sleep.

Things happen and life changes. She was no longer around to enjoy the swing with him. The rhythm of conversation taking place around the swing stopped because she was not there to talk. He never noticed how old the swing was and how badly the paint had chipped around the edges, until after she was gone. He noticed the swing more after the memories began to fade.

He fought back to keep the memories from disappearing. He bought lumber and set out to build a new swing. He created a swing like the original one he gave her years and years before. He built bird houses near the swing because she always loved to watch the birds. He is pleased with his carpentry  knowing how thrilled she would have been and so proud of him. After memories fade, he sits on the swing he built for two and is flooded with peace that he will be with her again one day.

The tree dad planted

The tree dad planted

My Dad

My Dad 

Easter Favorites 2013

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Easter Favorites 2013

Here are some of the favorite things that made me smile, laugh, worship, sing, during this Easter season. I hope you enjoy this recap of Easter Favorites 2013. By the way, you know we never stop celebrating Easter! We can’t pack up this day like a used Easter basket filled with torn candy wrappers and plastic colored grass. Easter should cause us to come to grips with the power of God’s love for us in Jesus Christ in a way that is not abstract, but rather touches us in our deepest selves…

Until we experience this love not only intellectually and cognitively, but also in a way that invades and permeates our minds, our affections, and our actions, we are going to lack the joy and power to live the Christian life God intends for us.
– Paul Kooistra

Favorite Quote:

“We don’t really NEED anything. I mean, people “need” water and food and stuff to live, but if we die it’s ok because we just go to see God. He says we never REALLY die.” –Colsen Frank, age 6 years

Favorite Video (Listen to Matt Papa tell The Story of God)

Favorite Blog Post: Thoughts About Easter

The day had been planned. She wakes up early before the sun has brightened the sky. Her heart is broken. She is weary from grief and each time she closes her eyes, she has the mental images of Jesus being tortured and brutally crucified. There is no rest from her sorrow. Mary is approaching the tomb in the dark hours of the early morning. She sees that the large rock, sealing the tomb where Jesus is buried has been moved! The tomb is opened!

I think she reacted like I would have…with panic! Confusion! Doubt! Unbelief!…continue reading

Favorite Cartoon

BC Easter

Favorite Holy Week Devotional: Love to the Uttermost

[PDF or Free eBook] There’s nothing intrinsically holy about particular days, but for most of church history Christians have set aside eight days between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday for solemn focus (Romans 14:5–6). This string of days provides an annual interval for us to focus intently on the greatest events in human history, the acts of our Savior Jesus Christ. “Fix your gaze steadily on him,” John Piper writes of Holy Week, “as he loves you to the uttermost.”

Favorite Easter Opener

Easter Opener 2012 from North Point Media on Vimeo.

Another Favorite Cartoon (I’ll be singing this rendition to my grandchildren!)

Mary Had a Little Lamb

Favorite Passion Week Infographic: Josh Byers (Click on image to enlarge)

The-Passion-Week-Letter-Light

Favorite Song: Beautiful Rescuer by David Walker

(A good friend emailed this link to me, because she knows I refer to Jesus as “my Rescuer.”)

The Saturday Assortment #8

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The Saturday Assortment

The Saturday Assortment is a collection of unrelated and random things that I find interesting, challenging, motivating and sometimes quite out of the ordinary. It’s an assortment of things that caught my attention throughout the week. I bet you will find them equally engaging.  There are no affiliate links on this page. Read and Enjoy!

From a father to his daughters :: The most beautiful thing that I read on the internet this week

To My Daughters on Being Pretty via A Deeper Church.

Remember how Peter warns: don’t get bogged down with trends and keeping up with fashion. Rather, keep up your spiritual beauty—cultivate and prune so the garden will grow. For what glows your countenance is a clear conscience and a pure heart. Worry and stress darken and drown.

Imbibe in the beauty of your youth. But always hold it loose—it flees and withers. If you let it define you then you’ll wither with it, on the inside.

Though your body dims and moves toward the grave, your soul thrives and moves towards eternity. It is like a deep red wine, it’s savory nature deepening over time.

Forget the legalists! They will try to hide all that’s good and beautiful and pure. But do not lash out at them, they, your weaker brothers and sisters. No, you instruct them in your grace and charm and in the stewardship of your beauty.   ~by Timothy

For your family :: A Free eBook for Holy Week

Love to the Uttermost via Desiring God

The devotional begins Palm Sunday (March 24) through Easter Sunday (March 31.) A lovely and special way to focus on the self-giving love of our Savior.

To love to the uttermost is to love freely, without reserve or limit, and without flaw or failure. As we watch his arrest and trial and death unfold for eight days, we gaze on a God-man who begrudges no pain or reproach on his pathway to redeem lost sinners. This is the man who “humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8).

A good word for parents :: 1 Thing you need to give yourself immediately

Give Yourself Grace! via Jon Acuff

If you’re a parent and you have young kids, don’t for a second be ashamed that you’re not working on a dream. You are. It’s called “kids.” You are raising humans. Do you understand how crazy that is? You don’t need to go kill yourself looking for a big new dream, you have one. You’re raising humans! ~Jon Acuff

Start conversations that end bullying :: Bully in a Box

Bully in a Box ❘ Solving it together via live.bullyinabox.com

It’s a sad and harsh reality that we need to address the problem of bullying, but here is a very helpful collection of iBooks to assist parents and children identify feelings and resolutions surrounding the situation. My daughter alerted me to this great resource (“Thank you, Leslie!”) The  iBooks, written by a mother and daughter duo (Cheryl Tunno and Michelle Tunno Buelow) cover topics such as: respect, compassion, loyalty, confidence, honesty, fairness and more!

“As a retired Superintendent of Schools I am all too well aware of the issues posed by bullying and harassment among and between students. The Bully in a Box program provides young children with ways to recognize inappropriate behavior and the tools to manage the behavior.”

—Mother of 2, Grandmother of 2 with over 30 years in the NJ public school system ~via Bully in a Box

Dear Sweet One, Remember This…

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Dear Sweet One,

I remember when you were “just a bump” in your mommy’s tummy. Oh my goodness…I was ecstatic to be Gigi to another grandchild! I remember praying for you before I met you. I remember loving you many months before I looked into your beautiful brown eyes and after our eyes met, I knew that I loved you even more. There are a few things I want to say to you and perhaps you will read this many years later…

Remember this…

You are loved. Not by human standards of love, but by God’s unmeasurable standard of love. He loves you with a forever love and He will never leave you. You can trust God, no matter what. You are a child of the covenant.

Your parent’s love for you will never fail, even when you think they don’t understand what you are going through…trust me, they do!  Dad and Mom understand everything, so don’t hide your fears and mistakes from them. They will be your best friend when you need a friend.  Trust your Father and Mother.

Everyone is not nice. You will experience conflicts and ugliness. Unfortunately, there are mean kids at school. Remember that mean kids who bully other kids have a poor self-esteem and most likely they are not loved like you are. Remember, it is the darkness in them that is lashing out at the light in your life. Remain confident in who you are and pray for those kids to experience love and grace that can transform them. Remember to keep your strength and resolve yet have compassion for those that are weaker than you.

Remember to pray often and always.

Cut up your credit cards!  Please, just use cash. If you don’t have cash to buy a new pair of shoes, then you don’t need a new pair of shoes. You are too young to know what stress is, but just wait until you have debt…then stress becomes the elephant in the room (I know!)  Debt will overwhelm your life and prevent you from experiencing wonderful adventures and freedom.

Remember to take time to be still and quiet. To reflect on the experiences of the day. Remember to thank God for writing that day in another chapter in your life!

Remember to use your talents and creativity to better this world for the glory of God.  It is your generation that will have the greatest impact in our nation and upon our culture. I pray with confidence that you will indeed make a difference in the community where you live, in the place where you work, and in the church where you serve.

Be generous. Give when you are able. Work for free just because you can. Remember, you can make a difference in one life or many lives with a heart of generosity.

Remember to plan for tomorrow so that you can enjoy the future.

Remember this…You are loved!

Linking up with everyone for Five Minute Friday, where a remarkably encouraging and loving community gathers to write for five minutes. This week’s prompt is: REMEMBER.
Five Minute Friday

Quiet Talks on Power

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Quiet Talks

I recently discovered a book at my parent’s house. My mother and I shared a common love of reading and she often encouraged me to take a book from the shelf. I needed a step stool to investigate the treasures on the very top shelf of the bookcase. I spied a very small book, with its frayed and worn cover from years of turning pages beckoning me to notice it. It was oddly placed, wedged between newer and larger books and would have gone years unnoticed if not for my curiosity. I pulled out the book and thumbed through the pages. I realized that I had discovered a small treasure giving me another glimpse into the mind and heart of my mother.

On the inside of the jacket she had written a note, “To Myself…a gift from God to answer my plea for power. October 12, 1979.”  The margins of the pages are filled with her personal notes and quiet talks to God and nearly every page had a paragraph highlighted in pale yellow.

Quiet Talks

The book challenged her to not to be swept along with the crowd, but rather have a fixed purpose, resolutely settled upon, rooted away and down deep to follow Jesus absolutely, no matter what it may cost or where it may cut.

The little book is full of giant reminders that God is intimately aware of what we need for everyday common things. We need His power to be gracious, kind, to enjoy work, to be content, to be cheerful, to listen, to rest…and on and on.

Here is a one of those pale yellow highlighted paragraphs from the book:

“There is that mother, living in what would be reckoned a humble home, one of a thousand like it, but charged with the most sacred trust ever committed to human hands—the molding of precious lives. If there be hallowed ground anywhere surely it is there, in the life of that home. What patience and tirelessness, and love and tact and wisdom and wealth of resource does that woman not need?”

And this thought:

“I will send another Comforter, one who will be right by your side to help, sympathetic, experienced, strong; and he will stay with you all the time. In the kitchen, in the sitting room, the sick-room, with the children, when work piles up, when things jangle or threaten to, when the baby’s cross, and the patching and sweeping and baking…and all the rest of it seem endless, on the street, in the office, on the campus, in the store, when tempted—almost slipped, when opportunity opens for a quiet personal word, everywhere, every time…in every circumstance, one alongside to help…Is not that wonderful?”

I love reading the notes my mother wrote and discovering what was important to her. I may add my own quiet talks with God in the margins and begin to mark paragraphs with bright orange highlight. Perhaps one day, my children will discover it on my bookshelf.

Quiet Talks

I originally wrote this on June 1, 2010, two months following my mother’s homecoming on March 15, 2010.  This is a repost in memory and in honor of  my mom, Barbara Ann Newman Goodroe. 

Quiet Talks on Power by S. D. Gordon

Free Amazon Kindle Edition

Quiet Talks on Power
 
Linking up with everyone for Five Minute Friday, where a remarkably encouraging and loving community gathers to write for five minutes. This week’s prompt is: REST.
Five Minute Friday