Waiting

While I busily edit the 52 letters I wrote to our first granddaughter, I wait -- somewhat patiently -- for the arrival of her baby sister. Understand, I'm not nearly as anxious as Becky is, but I sure want to meet this new member of the Wolfe's Den. Since Dave and I live as retirees, when we get the call, we'll head out toward Georgia. I have our bags partially packed and have purchased two new little girl outfits, one for each granddaughter.

Waiting does not come naturally to me.Exodus recalls Moses and Joshua leaving Arron and Hur and telling them to "Wait here until we come back to you." Anyone who had a dispute was supposed to come to the two left waiting and have the matter settled. We know, sadly, what happened. Aaron started crafting the golden calf.Later, the Levitical laws stipulated the time a woman had to wait after childbirth before declared purified. As Joshua prepares to take Jericho, he sends me to wait in ambush between Bethel and Ai. As the new leader, Joshua prod the people into action, asking them "How long will you wait before you begin to take possession of the land that the Lord, the God of your fathers, has given you?"

 Ruth waits by Boaz, King Saul makes sacrifice himself, refusing to wait for Samuel. Also rebellious, Joab says, "I'm not going to wait for you," and then plunges three javelins into Absalom's heart. Job waits for a audience with God and then realizes the folly of his questioning the Almighty. The prophets waited for the Messiah while they preached the message of repentance that fell on deaf ears. During 400 years of silence, Israel suffered, but continued to hope for the coming of Yeshua. Now we look to Revelation, saying, "Maranatha, even so come Lord Jesus."

The psalms give many practical words on the subject of waiting. "Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." (Ps 27:14) "We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our hope and our shield." (Ps 33:20) "Wait for the Lord and keep His way." (Ps 37:34) Then there's the confidence in Ps 38:15 when it says, "I wait for you, O Lord; you will answer, O Lord my God." Again, in Ps 130:6, the psalmist affirms "My soul waits for the Lord more than the watchmen wait for the morning." That's hopeful anticipation. These verses show me that waiting takes strength, heart, hope, and confidence.




Whenever I struggle with waiting, I return to Isaiah 30:18 where I see the depth of God's love for me. "Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for Him." So whether we wait for babies, a new job, a medical diagnosis or for the coming of spring, we wait in the confidence of our God: "I am God, and there is no other; I am God and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, 'My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose."

Editing

Our first granddaughter, born in the summer of 2007, will grow up in the South, most likely in Georgia. Her Grandpa and I lived near Annapolis, but planned to retire in western Maryland. So I knew the distance between us would challenge me. How could I build bridges, create a storehouse of information for her that she could read later in her life? What could she have from me after I had left this world?

My solution grew into a year's worth of letters, written one per week on a Monday, and emailed to her parents. The letters started in July 2007 and ran through her first birthday. My favorite Christmas present in 2008 was the scrapbook Brent and Becky created and gave me. They printed out all 52 letters, added a few photos to the album, and wrapped it in hours of work and love. What a treasure! Someday, I thought, I'd like to publish this book, at least for the family. Maybe I'll get the nerve to search for a publisher.

Much of the content of the letters centers on faith and family. For example, I want her to know the Bible's definition of marriage as a union between one man and one woman until death parts them. I have no idea what her culture will define as marriage twenty or more years from now, but I want her to know that Grandma believed Scripture, not just  about marriage, but about life. So I wrote about obeying her parents, thanking God for the heritage she has in her extended family, about our prayers for her as a covenant child. In my April letters I wrote about the warm yellows of forsythia bushes  and the hyacinths bursting forth in pinks and lavenders. That led me to the Creator of all these beautiful plants.

Family gatherings allowed her to meet her Great Grandma Wolfe, so I told her about this missionary who played the organ, painted, and spoke fluent Japanese in her younger days. And every time I left our granddaughter, my next letter told about the ache in my heart, about the love I have for her. I gave her the family history of her middle name, told her I prayed for her sensitive tummy to get better, for shots not to make her out of sorts. She can't read my letters now, but there's coming a day!

 One goal of my letter writing involves challenging today's grandparents to pass on more than china and silver to the next generation. I call my idea intentional grandparenting. What do you really know about your grandparents? The only information I know about my paternal grandmother is that she sang and had strawberry blond hair like mine. Because she died before my parents even met, I have only seen a hand full of photos of her. How sad.

These days, when he's not out shoveling snow, my husband spends much time researching Wolfe genealogy. One of his best "finds" is a journal written by a relative who watched, the battle between the Monitor and the Merrimack. Yes, people stood on the shore as observers during the Civil War. Another Civil War letter, written by a fellow soldier, tells Dave's paternal great-great grandmother what he knows of her husband's death near Ft. Monroe, Virginia. He describes Albert Weaver as he faced death as one having "a cheerful Christian resignation to the will of God."

I know that technology allows us to Facebook and Twitter one another moment by moment these days, but I still plan two more letter writing projects that will begin this year. One of our sons and his wife expect their second child any day now. Our younger son and his wife expect their first child in August. And, yes, both children will have a year's worth of letters from Grandma Wolfe.

The Winter Project

As a college freshman taking Old Testament Survey, I began to journal. Quite simply, I typed a list of Bible verses at the end of each month, one special verse for each day. The first Christmas Dave and I were married (1968), I wrote our Christmas letter as a story of Li'l Red Riding Hood and the Wolfe. Somehow I didn't think I'd continue yearly editions, so I didn't even save copies of the early letters. Over the years I journaled in fits and starts, but when we moved to the cabin in November 2008, the size of the box marked "journals" surprised me. Someday, I thought, I ought to get those in order and read a bit of history.

A winter that brings over 260 inches of snow makes me tackle crazy, long overdue projects. So, armed with masking tape and a Sharpie, I began to place masking tape on the front of each volume and writing the inclusive dates on each journal. My inauspicious early tomes, now yellow with age in spiral notebooks, gave way to capricious floral covers, fake velvets and stately leather books. I skimmed some volumes and noted particular events of that time period, i.e, Mom's death, or Brent and Becky's engagement. Some days I slowed down the overall project by reading the entire journal. Having accomplished the labeling and tasting of a bit of the writing, these first three impressions surfaced.

Over forty years thousands of prayer requests went before the Lord. I read prayer lists about battles of the flesh, death, disappointment, sins of various types and degrees. Also, I smiled over people's successes, education completed, marriages, babies, finances, people who came to faith in Christ, people who, with God's grace, junked many bad habits. And I laughed about all the prayer requests for cars! Probably because Dave and I worked with College & Career for 8 years,I taught high school students,and had two sons, I prayed countless times for cars that broke down or needed to be replaced. At one point I was convinced that there would be no cars in heaven because Revelation speaks of no tears there! Conclusion: God hears and answers the prayers offered in faith in accordance with His will. We don't just toss words off the ceiling, but we have a most elementary understanding of the One to whom we pray and how He answers. While still very much a child learning to pray, I know God answers. The topic of prayer will find its way into future journals.

Bible reading/studying, even in small snippets, have framed most days of my life. I found the day I first realized the exact meaning of Isaiah 64:6  "all our righteousness is as filthy rags." Exact and graphic! Written hundreds of years ago, Scripture continually infused my life with purpose and meaning. My paraphrases of portions of Scripture recalled special times of communion with Christ. I saw the day the Lord had opened my eyes to new things. Information I had shared in Bible studies for years had a day of personal discovery. Sharper than any two-edged sword, the Bible lives; it shows me truths and won't let me ignore my motivation. God speaks through it whenever I will read and seek the  Holy Spirit's help in understanding and applying it.

Looking over the four decades, I realized life moved at a frantic pace most of the time. I stumbled through experiences, missed the important because of the tyranny of the urgent, and got many things wrong. Too many times in my mother's final months of life, I didn't write about her at all. Yet, God repeatedly  gave me grace. His comfort held me then and He confirmed His love for her and for me in the verses of Scripture I read and the children's Bible songs I sang back to her in the waning hours of her life.

Winter's not over yet here in the mountains of western Maryland, but I've already gleaned three important insights from my journals. Guess I'll keep on reading a bit here and there. God's faithful and I believe nothing in my life has been wasted. I think you'll find the same true in your life as you take inventory over the way God has sovereignly directed your life. Happy winter project!