At the end of January, we took a little get-away trip to what my husband believed would be a fairly warm destination compared to our area in Colorado. Little did he know when he booked the trip well in advance that three days before our departure date the panhandle of Florida would experience their worst snowstorm in more than a century! Fortunately, while the eight-to-nine-inch accumulation wreaked havoc throughout its duration, in the next day or two, the generally warmer clime caused all evidence that this event even took place to disappear. Still, cooler temps, especially in the evenings, had us dressed in slacks, sweaters, and jackets throughout most of our time there.
Pet Peeves; we all have them. They can perturb in the home: my husband is particularly annoyed that I do not squeeze the toothpaste tube starting at the bottom. And how about the proverbial seat up/seat down challenge in regard to the bathroom throne? They can agitate while driving a car: Perhaps you have been tempted to slam on the brakes to alert the avid tailgater that you’ve seen enough of his face in your rear-view mirror. Don’t you just love the driver who feels entitled to pole position as he weaves and dodges lane to lane in heavy traffic? And how about in the grocery store: Perhaps you’ve made your way to the express lane only to find a shopper behind a cart laden with goods who feigns innocence as to the number of items that are really allowed in said lane. Have I pushed any buttons yet?
My husband has a rock ministry. Oh, no, no, no – he does not have an electric guitar strapped to his neck using head-banging flare and flying fingers to attract perhaps a younger crowd with contemporary music. I am talking about literal mineral formations. Whenever my husband walks the sidewalks at our church, he intentionally uses his feet to move stones from the pavement to the adjacent gravel bed. He has always appreciated impeccable landscaping, and ensuring that the church walkways are free of those little rocks and debris is an important contribution. In fact, I would say that he does it out of love for the church, the staff, and our fellow congregants and that it brings him much joy as he completes his task.
Lily is spotted and speckled with the long torso of a typical wiener dog but also with an extraordinarily lengthy and pointed nose that looks out of proportion from the rest of her body. She easily illustrates the expression “She has a face that only a mother could love.” Lily definitely has some bad habits including using any turf inside or out as a place to potty. She is the third of three dogs, adopted into the family because the elderly woman who was her prior owner just couldn’t manage her anymore and my daughter and her husband felt sorry for her. Because of Lily, all three dogs spent much of their day either outdoors or in the inside kennel so that not only would she not add her own special decorations to the carpeting, but that she would also be able to have the companionship of her doggie brother and sister. We believed that they were likely not always fond of the arrangement since their household manners were in check. Besides, those disparaging glances and sarcastic little snarls were telltale signs of two very annoyed little pups.
He patiently waits for us to return his love, and he is always available when we come to him. “The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-23, ESV). Needy creatures that we are, we are most definitely the blissful beneficiaries of his relationship with us.
It has been about a year since we began the “new normal,” living life with COVID-19. No doubt, like me you have been baffled by the range of symptoms and varied effects that can accompany this annoying pandemic. My husband, who is old enough to be considered at higher risk than the general population, characterized his experience as a bad cold. His friend, who is significantly younger, had to be hospitalized and spent time on oxygen in an ICU. I never tested positive, and while I tend to be extremely careful and observe the sanitary measures that help to curb the spread of the virus, I would have assumed I would at least have had a positive reading due to certain exposure.
It is no secret that in this world filled with technology, we living in relative prosperity have become attached AND distracted by said technology. As I am writing in a busy airport terminal, in row after row of passengers I see screens of every type. Viewing cell phones, e-readers, and tablets, very few people are engaged in conversation with each other, though I will say there is a din (travelers likely in momentary discussions over seat assignments, delays, or where to find a good cup of coffee). It is apparent that while we may be sitting within spitting distance of family and friends, let alone people with whom we are unfamiliar, people in general, and particularly this younger generation, are more likely to have Herculean-strength thumbs from tapping a cell phone all day than they are able to engage in meaningful conversation for more than a nanosecond (likely to ask if they can plug into a shared outlet). It goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway—what a changed world we live in! Yes, I know that in many ways there are benefits and betterments. But there are also many things we are losing due to the technological advances society has made, especially in the last fifty years.
Eddie and Millie met stateside after Eddie served in the U.S. Army during WWII. As did so many young people in the post-war era, they fell in love and were married in August 1946. They lived modestly, yet happily as they began to build their life together. Millie had resided at home until marriage in her mid-twenties, and she was very close to her mother. When her mom became ill and consequently passed away less than six months into the marriage, Millie became sick as well. Though at first it seemed like she had caught a cold that was just not going away, in time it was discovered that she had contracted tuberculosis, a very serious, often deadly disease. Over the next five years, Millie and Eddie’s lives revolved around lengthy hospital stays, chest x-rays and continuous exams, endless medication, and of course, separation from each other. Eddie remained faithful to Millie, visiting her as often as possible while holding down his full time job. Eventually the tuberculosis was arrested, and Millie was allowed to go home. Forever after she was breathing on only one lung, the other having been collapsed. It was fairly doubtful that the couple would ever have children, but much to their delight, they were able to have their first child, a daughter, in February 1955. A son was born about two and a half years later.
Though the winters in our area can feature wide-ranging temperatures and nary a flake until the spring, the snow has seemed particularly scarce this year. So when we happened to have a decent snowfall over the weekend, I was drawn to the window to watch the white fluff dance in the air. Enough snow had already fallen to leave significant amounts on the ground, which also meant that there was a sizeable accumulation on those areas that would have to be shoveled away, especially since we were having company later that day. I was admiring the pretty snow-covered evergreens that were in my view and at the same time praying for our family to arrive safely, remaining aware of the possible hazard the roads had become. As all of these thoughts swirled in my head like the flurries outside, a question suddenly popped into my mind: “How could something that can cause heartache be so incredibly beautiful?” When there is snow, accidents can be numerous, in the mountains within hours of us, avalanches occur, and people literally get lost in blowing snow and are overcome with hypothermia due to frigid temperatures. Yet, there is no denying that there is something picturesque and lovely about fresh falling snow. The beauty of this winter wonder shines through.
An hour or so later, there was quite another scene to view. Our local television stations were carrying the memorial service of a fallen hero, a deputy who had lost his life in the line of duty protecting others in an investigation that had turned into a detrimental attack. Though other officers were injured, the swift action of this deputy saved lives, including that of a civilian. At thirty-four years of age, he left behind a wife and two young children, his parents, brothers and sisters, other family and friends, and his fellow officers. As I continued watching the emotional testimonies of representatives of local law enforcement, his family and the pastor along with the ceremonial protocol, my mind formed a new question, “Where is the beauty in this, Lord?” The Lord allowed a swift answer: this deputy was a believer, and the beauty was the testimony and legacy he had left for his wife, his children and all who had the blessing of attending and viewing his memorial. Wonderful, personal stories were shared about his fun and quirky personality, his determination, devotion, and commitment to his chosen profession, and his thriving, vibrant and constant love for and trust in his God. We joined thousands of people who lined his procession route in the bitter weather holding signs and waving flags to affirm his heroism and honor his bravery. Though certainly there was, is, and will be heartache for those whom he loved and who loved him, Jesus is using his loss to reach out and touch others with the truth of the Gospel. The beauty of a life well lived shines through.