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!

Flashdrives and God's Sovereignty

When Matt and Julie spent the weekend here in mid-January, we did not have this much snow. However, this photo, taken Sunday afternoon, February 21, shows some of the snowbank created by our record snows this winter. I thought about a modern rendering of the famous painting "American Gothic," and got the idea that the Garrett County winter of 2010 version, might make a cute blog photo. We talked about taking the picture on Saturday when we returned from the Winterfest in Oakland, but the sun was down too low. Sunday morning we leave here early for the 40-minute drive we have to church; thus the photo op didn't happen until shortly before Matt and Julie pulled out and headed home. That's when God's sovereignty and flash drives met.

Julie got home after their January weekend and couldn't find her flash drive. Had she left it here? forgotten it at Brenda's Pizzeria? left it in our Jeep? The information on the drive included a list of wedding guests and their addresses, graduate research papers, and photos. Then there's the entire issue of identity theft. Needless to say, Dave and I looked under beds, around couches, near the keyboard and in the Jeep. Julie called the restaurant and I asked our pastor's wife if anyone had discovered a flash drive at church or in the Sunday School room. The drive was nowhere to be found, so Julie and Matt began to recreate their guest list. And we all prayed for the lost to be found.

But time passed and snow fell. Dave and I returned from Florida on February 13, and happily, one neighbor had plowed our long, steep driveway while another neighbor had shoveled a narrow path into the backdoor.We nestled in and watched it snow more virtually every day. Dave's daily routine involved about two hours of shoveling and Pat used the scoop on his tractor to lift the snow onto banks that grew to almost ten feet in height. Yet, for some reason, when Julie and Matt came back February 19, we thought the flash drive might show up. At least Matt and Julie tried to get back here. When they were only about a mile away, Dave went to retrieve them and get their car parked back down our mountain.

In Luke 12, Jesus asks, “Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows." Wow! We see a modern example of the God who counts the hairs on our head. He had been watching out for that flash drive. At photo time, as Matt walked across the driveway, now amazingly down to the wet, black gravel, he saw Julie's flash drive lying there on the ground. Not scooped up by the tractor or shoveled into woods, but there in plain sight. As Matt and Dave assessed the drive, they agreed that a few days of drying out and all the information should be available. Doubt God's sovereign on the smallest details of our lives? Not me.

The Storehouses of the Snow

When Job demanded an audience with God, the Lord responded with His own inquiries starting in chapter 38: "Then the LORD answered Job out of the storm. He said: 'Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me.'" The questions posed, and there are whole chapters of questions, confirm that our ways and our thoughts are not His! One question God posed to Job has captured my imagination this winter. “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow..."

The locals tell us that Garrett County, site of our cozy log cabin, has already recorded 205 inches of snow this winter. So while I have no idea what the "storehouses of snow" must look like, I'll try to show you a bit of the beauty of the pristine snow falls we ahve experienced here, and praise God for His beauty. The large mound to the left of the Jeep is our Mercury Sable. The small lump to the left of the Sable is Dave's ATV!

The beauty and serenity of the stately evergreens and the icy flow of Bear Creek frame the life we now know in retirement. And we give God thanks for living in the midst of His beauty, His presence, His peace.

Hospitality, Miami Style

When our son Bryan suggested we come to Miami to see some of his soccer team's games in late January, none of us realized the chosen time for its impact on housing. January 28-Feb 6, intersected the Pro Bowl weekend and included our spending the week leading up to the Super Bowl, both held this year in Miami. On top of this, Bryan and Stacey actually live in Honolulu now and have rented their condo here. Bryan has a room with another teacher and his folks. Then the blizzards of 2010 hit BWI airport and extended our stay in Florida. Needless to say, our budget had no plans quite like this! Then a family from Westminster Christain offered us two bedrooms (in case Bryan wanted to stay here with us) in their beautiful 6-bedroom home. So I went out to read and relax in the above surroundings!

Scripture talks about hospitality from the directive in Romans 12, "Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality," to the commendation give to Gaius, "whose hospitality I and the whole church here enjoy." In I Timothy, Paul, in listing good deeds of widows, mentions "Showing hospitality," and Peter speaks of offering hospitality to one another without grumbling." This dear family has even shared their pets with us. The yellow lab, Shania, and Elvis, the friendly cat who likes it when I read to her (OK, so it should be Elvira), seem to enjoy the extra attention they get from us. We are so grateful for God's provision for us through them. Thanks to Jack, Adele, Chuck and Jillian for all your kindnesses to us

With Thanks for My Girls

Happily, none of the in-law jokes apply to my dear daughters-in-law. Brent married Becky over a decade ago, and their Little Stuff will gain a baby sisiter in a few weeks. Stacey celebrates her birthday tomorrow and will hopefully, soon not experience morning sickness all day long! Bryan finishes the soccer season here in Miami later this month and will fly to Honolulu so he and Stacey can celebrate their seventh anniversary together on March 1. They expect their first child in August. I know how graciously the Lord has dealt with me, and I give HIm thanks.

As I've read through the burnt, grain, fellowship and sin offerings described in Leviticus, I looked at Lev 22:2 "Tell Aaron and his sons to treat with respect the sacred offerings the Israelites consecrate to me, so they will not profane my holy name. I am the Lord." In very practical terms, how do I treat with respect these lovely women the Lord brought into our family? For me, part of the answer to that parallels my personal growth as a believer in Christ. Colossians 2:6 says, "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness."

Too often, family strife erupts when our own spiritual life languishes. When we concentrate on growing up into Christ, we pray instead of meddle. Remember the Genesis foundation for marriage, that a man was to leave his parents, cleave to his wife, and the two will become one flesh? That means our children's marriages are theirs. Don't stew about decisions that the next generation makes. Pray for their ever-growing relationship to Christ and to each other. Pray for selfishness to be less important in our lives rather than telling family members they should be less self-centered. Recite to the Lord His gracious promises about the strengthening our faith provides. Finally, as per Col 2:6, overflow with thankfulness. Keep looking for the things that make you overflow with thankfulness rather than reciting a litany of grousing.

So Happy Birthday, Stacey. Thanks to you and Becky for giving me a waterfall of thankfulness as my daughters-in-love.