Getting to Know the Family Better Takes Time and Effort

Uncle Bryan traveled 8 hours on Friday to get to Statesboro, Georgia, only to leave at noon on Sunday and return to Miami. Why such effort for so short a visit? He took the time and made the effort to spend time with family because he believes in the importance of family time. He drew his Hawaii house's view with sidewalk chalk, and then played front yard soccer amidst an infestation of gnats.

After worshiping together on Sunday, we ate our lunch before Bryan got his good-bye hugs from his niece, Austyn Grace. I thought of the ideas expressed in The Message's paraphrase of verses from Galatians 6.

⁴Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don’t be impressed with yourself. Don’t compare yourself with others. ⁵Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.

⁹So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit. ¹⁰Right now, therefore, every time we get the chance, let us work for the benefit of all, starting with the people closest to us in the community of faith.

So as we all have opportunity this week, let's invest ourselves in the lives of those closest to us -- our family.

Reunions

Around 8:30 tonight, as Brent, Becky, Dave and I sat in the living room, engrossed in reading Austyn Grace her bedtime story, Uncle Bryan walked up to the front door. Although Aunt Stacey is working in Honolulu, Uncle Bryan drove here after having just worked three weeks in Miami....their work life is complicated to say the least! The six of us together at one time constitutes a mini-Wolfe family reunion because we seven live in three different states -- Maryland, Georgia and Hawaii!

But our hugs had to wait for something else. You see, the most exuberant reunion occurred between Bryan and his dog Zeus! Taking a photo proved impossible as the Husky mix went ballistic, bounding over pillows, then over the back of the sofa. She wanted to launch her 40+ pounds right into Bryan's arms. With each pass through the living room, she gathered speed and excitement. Her shepherd ears lay plastered against her head as she could barely contain her joy. We laughed, gasped, and held on lest we get knocked off our feet as we witnessed the love displayed at the sight of dog and master reunited.

Tonight I caught a tiny glimpse of the indescribable delight that lies ahead in our most important reunion. Yes, I'll be excited to see many family and friends in heaven, but I will express total joy in ways I can only imagine when the Master welcomes me home.

Traveling Grandma's Thoughts

My friend Irene started calling me "Traveler" when Dave and I moved out here to the woods almost ten months ago. The name fits, not because Dave and I globe trot to China and exotic ports of call, but because our trips take us to Georgia and Florida to see our grown guys, their wives, and our two-year-old granddaughter.
Our adventurous sons moved out of Maryland to pursue grad school and jobs. We enjoyed each phase with Brent and Bryan, especially the teen years. By the time they had finished college, we had transitioned to adult friends. We still love to spend time together, whether we do something like spot gators in the Everglades or just hang out and watch a DVD. Happily, both guys married women who like us, and the two-year-old charmer named Austyn Grace won our hearts immediately.
The dryer's hum and the appearance of suitcases on our bed mean we will head out tomorrow morning with a first stop in Augusta to see Vickie and DeWayne Davenport. Zeus, Bryan and Stacey's dog, will make the trip with us, and then fly to Hawaii on September 5th to join Bryan and Stacey at their new home. That means we are packing dog food, toys, shampoo, leashes and crate, along with our clothing for temperatures almost 40 degrees warmer than here in our woods. I also have homemade cookies and things Austyn Grace left here during her last visit. The packing presents a daunting task.
As the logistics of this trip began to boggle my mind, I thought of the trip made on my behalf over two centuries ago. Making that journey, enshrined in a virgin's womb, meant giving up heaven for earth, walking beside faithless humans, shedding infinite mobility for entrapment in flesh and blood, and offering up that flesh and blood in the world's most heinous execution. That trip, made out of unfathomable, unconditional love, truly demonstrates God's grace to His world. With a thankful heart, I returned to my simple packing task, mindful of One who came for me.

Monday Meditation

I continue to study prayer corporately at church and independently from the porch of our cabin. Yesterday's sermon provided a wake-up call about the breadth of my prayers. You know. Can I pray beyond my needs and the needs of my family? And do I?
Even when I had more brain cells than I do now, I had a prayer focus for days of the week to aid my memory. For example, since Monday starts with m, I pray specifically for missionaries then. Dave and I keep tabs with some particular folks serving in the US and in four foreign countries. We email and know details about their prayer needs. However, one missionary friend, now in heaven, used to tell us this simple truth: He'd say, "What are you struggling with right now? What's on your mind? We can probably use prayer for the same kinds of things." Your kids start school this month and you have concerns about their choice of friends and the teachers they will have. The same smooth transitions you pray for your kids you can pray for ours too. Whether we have the most current letter or email, we can pray meaningful prayers for missionaries.
But the pastor still has me thinking about other countries and things beyond my immediate concerns. So this morning I stopped and asked the Lord to enlarge my boundaries. I'm not thinking the prayer of Jabez that gained popularity a few years ago. Rather, what information could I gather that would make me a more intelligent pray-er? Honestly, I did some Scripture reading this morning, followed by some listening. Still working on that.
Another difference in my prayer life comes from using HOPE. H starts my prayer with an emphasis on the holiness of God and giving Him the honor due His name. O opens my heart to present my offenses to this holy God. P allows me to praise the Lord through using the Psalms, a CD or singing aloud, and finally, E leads me to present needs and concerns for God's eternal purposes, something larger than please heal my neighbor. Prayer keeps bringing a joy in this journey of life. No one likes dull or repetitive conversations, so why offer them to the Lord?

August's Garden

In the woods on our ridge, autumn comes early. The daisies' innocent beauty fades; the cone flowers' vibrant pinks grow pale; the first colored leaves lie scattered on the ground. Soon signs advertising "hardy mums for sale" will dot our surrounding country roads. The halcyon days of summer give way to the hectic pace of school schedules.

Words and their derivations fascinate me, and Stephen Messenger, writing in The Wall Street Journal, provided some information earlier this summer on the naming of flowers. "Like many words in our language, many of the names of flowers hold clues about their history and relationship to us. The daisy, for example, known for its small yellow blossoms, is quite common throughout the world. Daisies are unique in that they close their golden petals during the night and keep them shut, as if in sleep, until the morning. This peculiar characteristic earned this little flower the name 'day's eye' from speakers of Old English. Eventually, that name was compounded into the word daisy." A less favorite plant, "dandelions also derive their name from their characteristically numerous thick and slender yellow petals. It is not so strange for an imaginative observer to equate the dandelion's coarse petals to rows of teeth on a well-fanged beast. This comparison explains its French origin dent de lion, or in English "teeth of a lion." Haven't we all tried a myriad of treatments in our battle with this lion as it seeks to devour our lawns?

God provides a visual and a linguistic reminder in The Message as it paraphrases Isaiah 40:6-8

I said, “What shall I shout?”

“These people are nothing but grass,

their love fragile as wildflowers.

⁷The grass withers, the wildflowers fade,

if God so much as puffs on them.

Aren’t these people just so much grass?

⁸True, the grass withers and the wildflowers fade,

but our God’s Word stands firm and forever

So as flowers' hues fade and summer passes into the yellow leaves of fall, we can remain steadfast, not on the ephemeral elements of the seasons, but on the surety of God's Word to us.

Getting Your Own Food

When Dave and I visited the Garrett County Fair last week, I took this photo of a goat eating its neighbor's food. Cute? Clever? I actually took the picture as a reminder that food often is my idol of choice. In case you think of idolatry only in terms of a wooden or stone statue in a pagan culture, let me assure you that we all have some golden calf whether fame, education, money, or some natural inclination. Either Jesus controls (rules) my behavior or some idol does. According to Romans 1, an idol leads me to "futile" thinking to the point that I will "exchange the truth for a lie." To discover the basis for the lie, I have to work at identifying my idols by asking hard questions. What frightens me in nightmarish proportions? What sends anger into overdrive? What good qualities have assumed deity proportions in my life? What or whom do I think I have to control to make my world worth living? Answering such questions takes time and honest thought, but in order to heal, I have to recognize the malady.
After a time of soul searching, the best news available comes from the Gospel. However, many wave off the Gospel as too simplistic or unsophisticated. Moralists tell me to change my behavior, but slipping back into legalism will not destroy idols. The psychological camp wants me to feel better about myself and leave idols to another time and/or culture.Only the Gospel tells me I'm worse than I ever dared think and loved more than I ever dared hope. Worse, because I have established some food as a savior. My bondage to sin was broken by Christ. I reread Romans 6:14 "Sin shall not be your master for you are not under the law, but under grace." The focus now fixes on Jesus who calls me His own child and allows me to all Him, "Abba, Father," or Pappy. As my knowledge of Christ's righteousness deepens, my love draws me toward Him and begins to destroy the idol. The struggle continues, but neither enforced behaviors nor positive feelings demolish idols. Falling more deeply in love with Jesus as the lover of my soul, lets me find my sufficiency in Him.

Blackberry Season

Picking wild blackberries demands knowledge and persistence. Some of the berries look bright red, but since these are not raspberry bushes, we know red berries or those just turning black will taste bitter and seedy. However, since bears and birds feed on these berries, waiting too long means losing the berries to the wildlife.So besides the knowledge about what ripe fruit looks like, the successful berry picker must frequently check the same places. Earlier this summer, we sampled the bitter berries, but this afternoon Dave helped me get on the ATV, and we rode off to harvest the now sweet blackberries that grow at the end of Bearfoot Road. The old bramble-twisted bushes didn't easily surrender their sweet fruit, and the heat and gnats made picking berries a sticky, demanding task. Still, we wanted to share some of the berries with a neighbor and make a blackberry cobbler. Without Dave's help, I would have abandoned the task almost immediately. The brambles tore into my jeans and then into my hand; gnats bit my lip and eyelids as sweat rolled down my face; my unsteady balance required Dave's frequent help just to move me to the next clump of berries. Yet the berries we shared and the ones ready for tomorrow's baking made the effort worth it.
When I taught at Annapolis Area Christian School, I told my students that studying Scripture would always take knowledge and persistence. Satan wants to keep us from serious Bible study any time he can. Spiritual growth has always taken study tools, time, staying at the task, and sometimes a person with more skill who can help lead the way. I'll be thinking of blackberry picking as I review Galatians 4 tomorrow morning and appreciating a Savior who helps me see His truths in everyday tasks.

Blue Ribbon Service

This last week Dave and I drove to Morgantown, WV to shop on Wednesday, and went to the Garrett County Fair on Thursday. If I could, I'd give a blue ribbon from the fair to Cheddar's, the restaurant in WV. The reason? Old fashioned customer service! Dave and I had never eaten at Cheddar's, but we decided to try it.
Shortly after the hostess seated us, she returned to our table. "Is that Jeep Cherokee in the handicapped spot yours? I'm sorry to tell you this, but judging from the steam pouring out from under the hood, it looks like you've blown a radiator hose. When you're ready to take care of it, let me know and I'll get someone to help."
Dave checked it out and came back to eat before tackling the radiator hose repair. He noted that the hostess had matched the Jeep with us despite the fact that two Jeep Cherokees occupied side-by-side handicapped spaces. And true to her word, she got an assistant manager when Dave finished eating.
Chuck took Dave to the local auto parts' store, waited until Dave purchased the hose and a few tools (Any other time his tools would be in the Jeep, but not that day!), and drove the two of them back to Cheddar's. As Dave completed the repair and added more coolant, Chuck came outside and asked if he could offer help in any other way.
We pulled out of the parking lot, thankful that we'd not had the break down on I 79, and marveling about the service we'd just received. And, yes, Cheddar's won over two new customers that day with their blue ribbon service.

Patterns in the Woods

I step onto the porch this morning where the strength of the August sun surprises me. Our 2600-foot elevation, aided by our woods, usually tempers the heat. The patterns created as the sunlight filters through the trees catch my attention and make me thankful. I appreciate not only the ameliorating breezes in our woods, but also the relief God gives, even in this fallen world, when the heat is on.

Currently, my doctor has me keeping a pain diary, a task I find, well, a pain. Several times a day I note time, pain level, location and description of pain, medication and amount, other treatment, and the activity at the time. Stopping to write down this information focuses too much on what I want to ignore.

However, I look outside and see beautiful patterns made by strong sun, overhead clouds, and fluttering leaves. Each element converges to create beauty. Edith Schaeffer, in her book The Tapestry, refers to our working on the underside of a tapestry, seeing the knots and mistakes. Yet from above, God's perspective, a work of beauty emerges. Thinking about the usefulness of each element, whether searing heat or cooling relief, puts pain in some perspective for me. I live on earth, sustained by grace, but I long for heaven. My scattered thoughts find succinct expression in the words of Puritan Thomas Brooks:

"Here God gives His people some taste, that they may not faint; and He gives them but a taste, that they may long to be at home, that they may keep humble, that they may sit loose from things below, that they may not break and despise bruised reeds and that heaven may be more sweet to them at last."

In all things praise Him

"In time of trouble, say, 'first, he brought me here. It is by his will that I am in this strait place; in that I will rest.'"
"Next, 'He will keep me here in his love, and give me grace in this trial to behave as his child.'"
"Then say, 'He will make the trial a blessing, teaching me lessons he intends me to learn, working in me the grace he means to bestow."
"And last, say, 'In his good time he can bring me out again. How and when, he knows.'"
"Therefore, say, 'I am here, by God's appointment, in his keeping, under his training, for his time.'" Andrew Murray

My son Bryan started a quote book in high school. I sometimes wish I had kept such a book over the years because certain writers just nail a thought with astounding accuracy. Murray puts difficulties in perspective, summarizing well in the final sentence of the quote above.
Understand, today's not a bad day for me physically. Actually, as my friend Tom Wenger used to say when asked how he was doing, "Better than I deserve," characterizes this sun-drenched morning. It's a clear day on Deep Creek Lake.
Jesus told us that in this world we would have troubles, but we could remain confident that His sovereign will overcomes. May our hearts receive encouragement this morning as we see by faith our God at work in our lives.

Boredom and Serenity

"Boredom is the feeling that everything is a waste of time; serenity, that nothing is." Thomas Szasz

People often ask what I'm up to in retirement or what's keeping me busy or if I'm bored. Actually, I've never been a fan of the word bored. I insisted that my students and my own children at least use vapid or insipid when attempting to access a particular situation. Haven't we all become jaded with so many things and so many choices? If our world doesn't run at full tilt, we somehow view far too many things as a waste of time. Some activities can fall into the waste of time category, but in retirement, I think the Lord's trying to teach me a reformed view of doing and being.

While sitting on the porch swing last week, Becky, Austyn Grace and I spent a good bit of time ooohhhing, ahhhhing, touching and giggling over our discovery of an inch worm. Later that same day, three generations patiently stood on a bridge attempting to catch a fish. As we later prayed over our picnic lunch, we noted the beauty of the day God had created for our enjoyment. As I captured both of these photos, serenity, not boredom, possessed my heart and soul.

Perspective and purpose color our everyday experiences because God cries out to be seen in even the most mundane. Today I will focus on Dutch theologian Abraham Kuyper's statement: “In the total expanse of human life there is not a single square inch of which the Christ, who alone is sovereign, does not declare, 'That is mine!'”

The Perfect S'mores

Most people have a definite method for creating the perfect s'more. The first step involves choosing the right stick. The impatient s'more chef will grab the first stick in the woods. Connoisseurs may insist on owning one of the metal beauties from Plow and Hearth. The second step deals with the degree of marshmallow doneness. Some char that white puff of sugar while others slowly roast the marshmallow to a golden brown. The choice of milk chocolate or semi-sweet comes next, followed by the construction of the actual s'more. However, the best part of this sweet concoction comes in the eating : ~ )
On Friday night 12 adults and 4 children gathered around our camp fire to make s'mores and watch fireflies.The accompanying pictures tell the story best.

Life's simple pleasures

Having our two-year-old granddaughter visit us here in the woods, and bring her Mommy and Daddy along too, has provided a glimpse of life's simple pleasures. Yesterday Austyn Grace showed us the sheer abandon of playing at the playground, throwing rocks in the river, picking wild daisies for Mommy, playing with Zeus, the world's most tolerant dog, and meeting our good friends, the Beans' clan for dinner.
Today I watched three generations fish together; Austyn Grace bagged the only fish caught! She alone went swimming at New Germany State Park! The adults all found the water too cold! And around a campfire at Grandpa and Grandma's house, Austyn Grace discovered fireflies and then tasted her first S'more. The book we read at bedtime was Eric Carle's The Very Lonely Firefly.
I know there will come a day when Disney World will captivate our dear pixie girl, but for right now, this grandma is just leaning back and savoring life's simple pleasures.

Choosing books

Yesterday Dave and I made a trip to Morgantown, WV and spent a good bit of time at Barnes and Noble. The resulting purchases reflect our current interests.
Dave wants to see the big picture of history, so his huge foldout book starts with Adam and Eve. The complexity of the charts increases as Chinese dynasties of 600 - 500 B.C. create a time line that parallels Confucius, Aesop, Pythagoras, and Daniel in the lion's den. The ending date of 2004 shows Queen Elizabeth II, the continuing Chechyna War of independence from Russia, and George W. Bush. So much of what we learned in history and Bible came in chunks that did not interrelate. Dave has always wanted such a comparative study laid out country alongside country, and now he has it.
My selection, Letters to Malcolm, marks an ongoing quest of mine to read the major works of C.S. Lewis. Currently our Sunday School class is studying Lewis' The Great Divorce, so my choice of a book testifies to the reawakening of my long-term goal.
Finally, Eric Carle's The Very Lonely Firefly is a gift for Austyn Grace, our two-year-old granddaughter who arrives with her parents tonight. Since we live here in the woods, we see many fireflies at night. My thought in buying this children's book was to hopefully make a connection for Austyn Grace between what she reads and what she experiences.
Buying books takes thought and purpose; maybe that's why I can spend so much time --not to mention money -- in a book store.

Monday meditation

Mondays in retirement afford me the time to meditate on Sunday's worship. This morning I sat on the porch, sang several hymns accapella, prayed for a friend leaving on a mission trip this week, meditated on a prayer from Valley if Vision, and rethought yesterday's sermon from Matthew 6.
The wind of the Spirit blows across my mind, rustling my thoughts as the breeze gently turns the leaves over in the woods. Today I am processing my thoughts about the best sounds of Sundays out here. Dave and I now worship with a small congregation in Oakland; we currently have no pianist or organist, and we borrow the Episcopal Church for our services. The two sounds that draw my heart upward involve the hymns sung with harmony but no instruments and the swishing of pages in people's Bibles.
Happily, our worship leader, a frequent bass soloist in the Garrett County Choral Society, has a fantastic voice and leads well. But the richness that draws me to worship comes from the people singing harmony all around. The words minister truth and the harmony reminds us of the diversity in God's church. Different gifts can minister all week as God's people serve in various ways. And the other sound? Worshipers not only carry their Bibles, but they also turn to each passage, from the call to worship to the foundational passage for the pastoral prayer to the references made during the sermon. Like little Bereans, we follow each passage, personally seeking the truths of Scripture. The sound of those pages turning draws each heart to the main focus of worship: what do the Scriptures say.
I love the sound of people flipping pages in their Bibles! Interestingly enough, as I took a photo of my porch chair this morning, the breeze kicked in and turned the page in my Bible. Hope you have time for meditating on your Sunday worship.

Beyond the rain

This summer Garrett County is about 36 shades of green, due in large part to all the precipitation we've had. When I checked the rain gauge this morning, it registered 2 1/2 inches. Now, if arthritis and rheumatism grace your bones and joints, endless forecasts for rain do not make you smile.However, late yesterday afternoon the skies cleared and today dawned in pristine beauty. The sun came out, the temperature warmed to about 78 degrees, and the skies offered white puffy clouds dotting a cerulean background. Ah, summer at it finest. The persistent rains of the last four months evaporated in my mind and I read, baked banana bread, played with the dog and went to Friendsville Days with my husband.
The wind of the Spirit always blows in the midst of difficulties, but I often don't realize it until the sun comes out again. For some of life's hardest questions, full sunshine may not occur in this world. I think of one of my friends who, in these last stages of MS, struggles to move a few facial muscles to communicate, or another friend who works tirelessly to get the best educational placement for her son with CP. Following Jesus Christ does not exempt Christians from suffering. So how do we hope if the rains seem to fall endlessly? Our faith rests in a sovereign God who exists in rain and sun, trial and triumph. That is what Francis Schaeffer called "true truth." And what I know must precede what I feel. Seeing God in life's deluges can blind us temporarily, but He is in the storm, steadying us and offering to shelter us under His wings. It's the only place to find calm in the midst of the tempest. When the sun comes out, and it will, you'll know how you weathered the rain.