An unbroken chain

 

Two of my grandsons, riding in the back seat of my car together a couple of years ago

We hold hands a lot in my family. We comfort, we show affection, we connect when we hold hands. 


I have warm memories of hand-holding from every stage of my married life, beginning with the marriage ceremony.  My husband held my hand as I labored to give birth to our children.  We held our children's hands when we wanted to keep them safe or comfort them when they were hurt or sick or sad.  We held hands as  we waited for news, as we worried.  We marveled at the perfection of our grandchildren's hands as we held them soon after they were born.  We hold the hands of our grandchildren as we held their parents' hands.

Tomorrow we'll go walking

there's a world out there to see

I will hold your tiny hand inside my hand

But tonight just close your eyes

and fix them on a dream

while I hold your tiny heart inside

my heart

from  "I Will Hold Your Tiny Hand", Steve Rashid

I imagine hands stretching across the long miles that separate us, holding on, keeping the bond strong.  The busy lives of young parents don't always have room for frequent visits or even frequent conversations.

But even so. . .

There's an unbroken chain

that stretches for miles

from Grandma to son

father to child

There are lifetimes of love

just waiting for you

From another Steve Rashid song, "Nannie's Lullaby"

This week I happened across a birthday card my father sent me several years ago.  The note inside asked me if I remembered a family Thanksgiving years ago when we all said what we were thankful for.  That Thanksgiving was one of the happiest I can remember.  Several generations had gathered around the table.  We began the meal, as we always do, holding hands, and asking for God's blessings. 

Picking up where nature ends

Great art picks up where nature ends.  ~Marc Chagall

This past Sunday, on a short anniversary weekend get-away, my husband and I visited the North Carolina Museum of Art to tour the new building. (See his blog about it here.) Stunning light-filled galleries. Lush sculpture gardens. Shimmering reflecting pools- this is the description on the Museum's home page.  In this new setting, the Museum's collection  "picks up where nature ends"   in such a way that they seem seamless.  Light, shadow, reflection, movement, water -  peaceful and tranquil even with the crowd in attendance. During the weekend's opening festivities, dancers performed outside and inside the building. This museum, created and funded by state legislation, is a blessing to the people of North Carolina.  Admission to the permanent collection and museum park is free.

"There is Love"

There is no more lovely, friendly and charming relationship, communion or company than a good marriage.  ~Martin Luther

Come, let's be a comfortable couple and take care of each other!  How glad we shall be, that we have somebody we are fond of always, to talk to and sit with.  ~Charles Dickens

Happy anniversary to my husband, who has been the greatest blessing in my life since I met him in 1970. 

"Well a man shall leave his mother and a woman leave her home
And they shall travel on to where the two shall be as one.
As it was in the beginning is now and until the end
Woman draws her life from man and gives it back again.
And there is Love. There is Love."

"Turn Around"

Having just celebrated the first birthday of my youngest grandchild,  the swift passage of time is on my mind.  It's a cliche but true that the time speeds up as one gets older.   What a blessing pictures are in helping us relive some of that time that went by so quickly.  And what a blessing digital cameras are!  No longer do we have to wait to process the film, having extra prints made to share with family.  Now we just connect our cameras to the various laptops and computers that we all have and transfer the pictures in a matter of minutes.
With digital pictures we're able to put together slideshows (such as the one in my sidebar honoring the life of my father) with music, captions, and other special effects.  I'm reminded of this moving TV commercial from about 1960.  Even then I'd have tears in my eyes watching it - still do!

Seeds of faithfulness

He who plants a seed, 

Beneath the sod; 

And waits to see - 

Believes in God.

- Author Unknown

In the intrduction to My Grandfather's Blessings, Rachel Naomi Remen tells the story of her grandfather and the little cup of dirt that he gave her, asking her to water it each day. She lived in an apartment in Manhattan and dirt in a cup made no sense to her. But she watered the little cup each day. Then, after several weeks, she woke to find "two little green leaves that had not been there the night before". When she shared her astonishment with her grandfather, he explained to her that "life is everywhere, hidden in the most ordinary and unlikely places" and that "all it needs is your faithfulness".

Yesterday I helped my grandson plant sunflower seeds in a sunny patch of earth in his backyard. He watered them with his watering can. If he waters them faithfully and is patient, he should be rewarded with the seedlings of sunflowers in just a few weeks. With more patience and care, those seedlings will grow to be giant sunflowers.

I've always thought of gardening as a lesson in patience, care, and humility and a reminder of the miracles of God's creation. But I'd not thought of it in terms of faithfulness. But faithfulness in care and attention to both our gardens and those around us blesses us. It's faithfulness that keeps our relationships strong. Faithfulness in communicating with, listening to, and caring for the needs of others. Faithfulness in believing in others. Faithfulness in just being there. With faithfulness, we put down deep roots.   Roots that keep us grounded and strong when things are tough. And our lives are blessed.

This was posted April 17 on my garden blog, http://ginnysgarden.blogspot.com

Blessings and books

"If it can be verified, we don't need faith... Faith is for that which lies on the other side of reason. Faith is what makes life bearable, with all its tragedies and ambiguities and sudden, startling joys." 

— Madeleine L'Engle

Faith has been at the forefront of my mind over the last three weeks.  Madeleine L'Engle has been on my mind, too, because I've been re-reading one of her books, A Live Coal in the Sea, the sequel to her young adult novel, Camilla.  The title of that book comes from a quote from William Langland:  "But all the wickedness in the world which man may do or think is no more to the mercy of God than a live coal dropped in the sea."  She writes beautifully about faith and mercy, about the wonders of the world and creation, about love and the complexities of relationships.  Her books are a blessing to all those who read them.  

  (See more quotes from her books here.)  Sometimes the words of others make clear something I know or feel but can't find the words for, and I've found that to be very true of Madeleine L'Engle's words.   

"When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable."
— Madeleine L'Engle

"It might be a good idea if, like the White Queen, we practiced believing six impossible things every morning before breakfast, for we are called on to believe what to many people is impossible. Instead of rejoicing in this glorious "impossible" which gives meaning and dignity to our lives, we try to domesticate God, to make his might actions comprehensible to our finite minds."
— Madeleine L'Engle

"Rest in the grace of the world"

When despair for the world grows in me ... I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

- Wendell Berry, from his poem "The Peace of Wild Things"

When I read this in the Verse and Voice e-mail from Sojourners today, I thought of the place where I have always felt that I could "rest in the grace of the world".  Where there is water, and wild things.  Over the years that place has been considerably tamed, but when sitting on the porch, looking out over the water, it's easy to forget that.

The postman's knock

And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
~W.H. Auden

The postman no longer knocks, and my mailbox usually only contains bills, magazines, and advertisements.  But in the age of e-mail, I could substitute the sound of mail arriving in my electronic mailbox for the postman's knock in W.H. Auden's poem.  

E-mail has been a blessing to my family since the day that we began going "online".  Even in the early days of dial-up modems, e-mail did wonders for our ability to stay in touch.  We aren't a family in love with the telephone - never have been - we like to talk  face-to-face.  But we are a close knit family and most of us love to write.  When we were planning a family beach trip last year, we exchanged about 70 e-mails before we had it all worked out.  

My father used to print his e-mails and save them, just as he saved the letters we wrote.  

In these early weeks following my father's death,  since we've all had to go back to our everyday lives, almost daily e-mail communications have been a comfort.

Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; for, thus friends absent speak.  ~John Donne

A Blessing Remembered

This beautiful woman, Martha Tarleton,  (with her handsome husband, Harold, in this photo by Leslie Snow) would have been 92 years old today.  She blessed me all of the 35 years that I knew her and her memory continues to bless me today. I met her in 1971, the year I married her son and the year my own mother died.
She welcomed me into her family with grace and provided support and encouragement all of her life.  She played a mean game of Scrabble and could recite the names of all the United States presidents.  Her creamed corn, made with Silver Queen corn grown in her garden, was the best thing I've ever eaten.  She gave me sewing advice and shared her recipes.  But her greatest influences were her profound faith, her gentle spirit, and her unconditional love for her family.


Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

A Blessing in Disguise

Pollen - a blessing in disguise.  For those who are allergic it brings sneezing; burning, watery eyes; coughing; and runny noses.  But pollen leads to the creation of new seeds and new plants.   The pollen that causes the most distress (according to Medicine.net) is that of trees, grasses, and weeds.  While I'd love to do away with weeds in my yard,  I believe the shade provided by hardwood trees  is worth the suffering caused by the pollen.
We hiked under these trees last Thanksgiving and were blessed by the beauty of the changing color.

Last Saturday we buried my father under the shelter of these flowering cherry trees.   Their beauty gave us comfort and reminded us of the God's grace.

And so, when I see the yellow blanket on everything, I will remember that it will pass and will say a prayer of thanksgiving for the trees that bring joy and comfort.

"Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?"  

Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road

"God is the experience of looking at a tree and saying, "Ah!"  Joseph Campbell

"When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe."  John Muir

You have to believe in happiness,

Or happiness never comes ...

Ah, that's the reason a bird can sing -

On his darkest day he believes in Spring.

Douglas Malloch

You Have To Believe.

The



The  Eastern Phoebe came back to see me this morning, perching on my office windowsill.  Today was my first day at work after being away for my father's memorial service, and there was much work to be done.  But this Phoebe seemed to want to remind me that it is Spring, my father's favorite time of the year.  And he is with us still.  

Best listened to with others

The death of a beloved is an event that rings and rings through a life: bearing it is not a problem to be solved, but a long, slow piece of music to listen to. And mourning, like music, is best listened to with others.

- Sarah Miles, from her book Jesus Freak

This quote arrived in my e-mail box today as part of the "Verse and Voice" e-mail that I receive daily from Sojourners.  It was especially timely and so beautiful and true.  There are no words to describe how blessed my family is by our love for one another.  We will continue to listen to the music of mourning together.  My siblings and I know it well, having lost our mother in 1971 when she was just 44 years old.  The music has changed over the years, and it changed again this past week with the death of our father.  It had been background music for years - with the volume occasionally turned up.  The music surrounds us and vibrates through us now.  We will dance and sway to this new music, remembering our father's smile and the joy in him that was so contagious.  We will try to make him proud.

40 pampered toes

Yesterday we had a girls' afternoon - shopping for something to wear to my dad's memorial service and then having pedicures.  Due to back surgery, by stepmother has difficulty bending to trim her toenails.  We decided to keep her company while she had her pedicure.  We were blessed with a relaxing respite in the midst of this week of difficult decisions and restless sleep.  After our pedicures we were treated to a wonderful meal at my brother's and sister-in-law's home, where we asked him to photograph the results of our afternoon.