A Dream Fulfilled

My last blog post, “The Journey,” chronicling my return to college to complete a Bachelor’s degree, was written over a year ago. My blog has been on hold since then as I’ve focused on the courses needed to complete a degree of Teaching English as a Second Language. It’s been a forty year journey which began in 1982 when I set foot in a classroom at Penn State Fayette with the intention of becoming a nurse. The paths that we take in life don’t necessarily end up in the places we expect. Wise choices are made, poor choices are made, and each of us follows diverse paths which become part of our life’s story.

The dream I had of completing a degree has been fulfilled. On May 7, I walked across the stage in the Vines Center at Liberty University and was recognized as a graduate with a Bachelor of Science degree in Teaching English as a Second Language. It was an amazing day and weekend of celebration including touring the beautiful Lynchburg campus, and meeting in person for the first time a few online TESL classmates and a favorite professor who had been a wonderful godly mentor. God’s goodness and grace led me to LU, blessing me with the ability to achieve my dream. 

Who would have thought that a global pandemic would have provided me with time to complete coursework which I would not have otherwise had? I started looking seriously at applying to Liberty at about the same time as the beginning of the pandemic in 2020. School closures and remote learning afforded me extra time in my work day as a paraprofessional to devote to my college studies. My journey would have been much more difficult without a very supportive and helpful husband, and a few close family and friends who prayed and offered encouragement. God had in place for me everything I needed to achieve my dream, and in a much more marvelous way than I had anticipated.

I arrived home after graduation to a roomful of decorations placed by my sweet granddaughters.
I cherish the graduation cards from family and friends.

My God is one of Hope. The hopes and dreams of a 58-year-old, returning college student were fulfilled through the goodness of God. He is a God who often gives us the unmerited desires of our hearts. I’ll now wait on Him to open a door of opportunity for me to work with English Language Learners. The education I received from Liberty University was excellent, and I desire to use with excellence the things I’ve learned to make a difference for others, and as a way to bring glory to God. Lord, help me to delight in You, and to bring You glory.

HOPE NUGGET: Delight yourself in the LORD; And He will give you the desires of your heart [Psalm 37:4].


The Journey

Over 30 years ago while living in Okinawa Japan, I was approached by a friend who asked if I would be willing to work part-time as an English tutor to advanced Japanese high school students. With two small boys, and an Army husband who was often away, I wasn’t sure I should take on another responsibility. I believed though that God had provided the opportunity; it would be extra income for our family, and with my interest in learning more about the Okinawan people, I accepted the new challenge. The students visited our home twice each week for several hours. We worked on English grammar lessons and spent time conversing in English so that they could improve their English-speaking skills. At a housing lodge on Kadena Air Force base two and a half years later, just before departing the island, our family said our goodbyes through tears to Kaori and Mayumi.

During our final year in Okinawa, Desert Shield / Desert Storm broke out and Scott was deployed to Saudi Arabia, so I especially enjoyed the company and friendship of the students. They loved being with Nick and Simon who they had first met when the boys were just ages three and one. Because of their demanding school schedules, our English classes were held in the evenings. By that time of day, it was bedtime for my two little ones, but because Kaori and Mayumi looked forward to seeing them, I delayed bedtime on those days until after their arrival. The routine on those evenings was to have the boys ready for bed, with stories read, prayers said, and pajamas on, so that when the girls came there would be time to visit before bedtime. When English class ended, I would gather the sleeping boys from their beds, buckle them into their car seats, and drive the girls to their bus stop in Okinawa City. 

Sadly, we somehow lost touch over the years, but fond memories remain of the times spent with our two sweet friends. There was something special about those years, sitting around the dining room table conversing with Japanese-speaking teenagers eager to learn a second language. It was satisfying to see them improve in their English skills and in their confidence. The experience I gained as a conversational English teacher and tutor helped to prepare me for work that would come later as a special education classroom assistant and as a volunteer Sunday School and Bible teacher. I sometimes wondered what it would be like to formally teach English as a second language, but life got busy and the timing just never seemed right to seriously pursue the thought. 

The desire to complete a Bachelor’s degree has persisted for most of my adulthood. After completing an Associate’s degree, and even after applying and being accepted at several colleges every couple of years since then, I always stopped short of taking that final step of commitment to continue. After researching again last year, I found the perfect program at a university that had my interest. I applied and got accepted once again, but this time took the steps toward completing a Bachelor of Science in Teaching English as a Second Language through Liberty University Online. Nearly everything that I was looking for in a program and in a college was available there. My only reservation was with the individual who held the position as the university’s president. That concern was relieved with his resignation on August 24….the very first day of my classes at the university. It felt a lot like a confirmation from God to me.

Many of my credits from Penn State University and Westmoreland County Community College were accepted, with the remaining needed credits being mostly major courses. In my first semester of the Fall of 2020, I hit the ground running, enrolling in five classes and completing 16 credits. I am now a senior at Liberty University, with four courses this semester. Once these are finished, I’ll need just a few more classes and an internship to complete my thirty-plus-years-long journey. The journey which began at a dining room table in Okinawa while teaching English as a second language led to the computer desk in my house where you’ll often find me late into the evening writing papers, completing tree diagram homework assignments, and taking online exams.

Completing the TESL program is my goal as a college student, but I’ll take away much more than a degree from this experience. My professors teach with excellence and expertise, but of equal importance, they approach each course from a biblical worldview. It’s been especially meaningful to receive emails from professors who inspire their students with biblical words of encouragement and assurances of their prayers. I don’t know if or how the degree will be put to use, but I do know that I’m glad I took the steps to walk through the door of a college which offers a Christ-centered education. Liberty University has exceeded my expectations and I look forward to traveling to Lynchburg Virginia in the (hopefully) near future to receive my degree. Who knows? There could be another Kaori or Mayumi along the path. We’ll see how God directs this part of my journey. 

HOPE NUGGET: I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you [Psalm 32 :8].

Jesus, Our Only Hope

The idea for starting a blog came a few years ago when looking for a way to preserve family history through stories and by wanting to document some of my personal experiences. I knew though that the main message I wanted to convey through those stories was the Hope of Christ. Each of us faces different day-to-day challenges in life, and some of you have encountered more difficult challenges than others. The past year was different from any most of us have ever witnessed while we contended with similar challenges collectively. A virus which led to a pandemic. Social Distancing. Masks. Quarantine. Separation from loved ones. Restaurant and business closures. Unemployment. Virtual school. Virtual worship services. Illnesses and deaths. Politics. Elections. Isolation and loneliness. A distressing year.

In October just before elections were held while on my way to work, I passed by a sign displayed in our neighbor’s lawn. By then I had decided that voting for either Trump or Biden would be more of a compromise than I was willing to make. That is not meant to say that I expected the same decision to be made by others, just that I knew it was the right decision for me. I believed then, and still do, that damage would come to our country either way, through either candidate / political party. Damage would come by means of immoral and unethical policies, by politicians who lie, who cheat, and who are immoral and unethical in their personal lives and as government officials. I could not and would not place my hope in either of the given choices. Our neighbor’s sign was a strong reminder for me of where true hope lies. 

Since that day in October when I drove by the yard sign, upheaval and division in our country have grown. President Trump has refused to concede the election, claiming that he won and that there was widespread election fraud. In spite of those claims by the President, his own Attorney General William Barr stated in an interview with the AP that the Justice Department has “not seen fraud on a scale that could have effected a different outcome in the election.” Days of upheaval and division have turned into weeks, and weeks have turned into months. It is grievous to see the witness of the Christian faith damaged due to defending unrighteousness, immoral and unethical behavior of political leaders. Some have been willing to allow friendships and relationships to be jeopardized or sacrificed because of differences over politics or political leaders.

As Joe Biden is set to be sworn in as President of the United States on January 20, he wasn’t my choice and he may not have been your choice either. Christians though must follow God’s mandate to pray for him, to support him when he’s right, and to oppose him when he’s wrong. That’s the way it should have been for President Trump and that’s the way it must be for President-elect Biden. Christians must be about God’s business. We must make sharing the Gospel of Christ our most important calling and highest priority. We must defend truth and righteousness and integrity and honor, and not compromise any of it for the sake of any political leader. Our hope will never be found in any of them.

Though 2020 may not be remembered fondly, it wasn’t without its blessings. It wasn’t without the presence or goodness of God. He is still sovereign over this world. He is still King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He is still faithful to His promises. I believe in the message on my neighbor’s sign, and on the one that we purchased through them which is still displayed in our front yard: Jesus 2020 Our Only Hope. Though now I think of it as … Jesus 2021 Our Only Hope. I profess Hope in Christ and I hold unswervingly to it. Praise be to God.

HOPE NUGGET: Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful [Hebrews 10:23].

Berry Blessed

Today is the 82nd birthday of a guy I’ve known for a large part of my life. Duke, as he is known by his family and friends, is my father-in-law. Many would say that Duke is a unique character, and with good reason. You might see him in the small Fayette County village, where he was born and raised, working in his vegetable garden where his specialties are beets, potatoes and corn or he could be found sitting on his front porch snoring with a gun magazine or a book (he’s an avid reader of a variety of subjects) in hand. Often though, he can be seen taking walks – a walking stick in his hand, a gun on his hip, a newspaper-wrapped bottle of drinking water, a package of chewing tobacco in his shirt pocket, and a metal bucket attached to a strap over his shoulder during berry season. Come rain or shine or snow, each Sunday morning Duke can be seen in his dress clothes making the short walk (which he had done for many years with his beloved Margaret) to and from the little white United Methodist Church where he worships.

It might be surprising for some to learn how much Duke and I have in common. We both enjoy stomping about in the woods and fields. We both like walking and exploring in the mountains, canning vegetables from the garden, and picking wild raspberries and blackberries. We grew up with decades between us, but both spent our childhoods berry picking. It was an activity passed on to me by my dad “Turtle.” In my youth, we picked for hours at a time during berry season, sometimes gathering berries by the gallons. Dad’s health has declined in recent years, so he no longer ventures out for berry picking. I’m thankful though that the love for berry picking was passed on to me and my husband Scott, then to our 2 sons, and now even on to our young granddaughters. 

Last week, Scott and I had set a little time aside and made plans with Duke to drive to the mountains for some berry picking. Just before the time arrived to leave, Scott, whose job involves being on call, was needed to go back out to work. It’s nothing new for us, just a part of life for those in the telecommunications field. Not wanting to miss another day of gathering berries needed for making homemade jam, I decided that I would still go, even if alone. After making a quick call to Duke, I had a berry picking partner, so off we went to the mountains! Over the years, I’m sure we’ve picked berries together dozens of times. And here we were still at it, an 82 year old with his not-so-young-anymore daughter-in-law. Hours later, we emerged from the weeds and the jagger bushes with several buckets full of plump, juicy, shiny, sweet blackberries! 

Our family is blessed, “berry blessed,” that today we’ll gather for Bud’s pizza and wings to celebrate another birthday together with the man all of his grandchildren call “Pap Duke.” When I open our jars of blackberry jam in the months ahead, it will be a reminder of these hot summer days spent together wiping the sweat from our brows and tramping down the weeds while filling our blackberry buckets. It will be another reminder of the blessings and the beauty of God’s marvelous creation and of His goodness to us.

HOPE NUGGET: Because he has his heart set on me,I will deliver him; I will protect him because he knows my name. When he calls out to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble. I will rescue him and give him honor. I will satisfy him with a long life and show him my salvation.  [Psalm 91: 14-16]

For the Love of Music!

After a few months of hiatus in sharing blog posts, I’m back to writing again. In several previous posts, I wrote of how music has been such an important part of my life. I grew up with a mom who probably played music daily on the record player. She would teach us the jitterbug and other dance steps as we bebopped around the living room. I learned just about every Elvis Presley song during those years, as well as tunes by Conway Twitty, Loretta Lynn, Jerry Lee Lewis, Charley Pride, Johnny Cash and so many others. I didn’t embrace my mom’s love of country music as a teen or young adult, but instead enjoyed the sound of what is now referred to as Classic Rock. For years, I didn’t venture far from that particular genre of music.

Beginning in the mid to late 80s, though and in my early years after becoming a Christian, a change occurred. Contemporary Christian music became a favorite of mine and was instrumental in my growth as a new follower of Christ. I was greatly influenced by the music of Keith Green, Carman, Michael W. Smith, Petra, Phil Keaggy and Second Chapter of Acts. Their music ushered me into special times of worship and prayer to the Lord and helped to form my early Christian experiences and worldview.

Music has always played a big role in my and my husband’s lives. In fact, it was through music that we met…a long time ago….in Jr. High school…in band class. He, the ever-so-slightly rebellious baritone player, and me, the goofy immature young clarinet player. The rest is history. But in any case, music always remained important. From the 8-track player in Scott’s International Scout blasting tunes by Boston, Fleetwood Mac and Lynyrd Skynyrd to my vinyl collection to cassette tapes to CDs. My interest in and love for music even led to taking a few guitar lessons as a young mom which never went anywhere in the midst of a busy military lifestyle. Later on, my desire to play guitar was resparked, so I purchased a classical guitar and started practicing again which led to an opportunity to lead a school music program where I teach basic guitar and music appreciation.

Our love and appreciation for music was passed on to our 2 sons. We often sang songs together and played kids’ music tapes during their early childhood. When they were old enough, they were enrolled in piano classes. Our younger son Simon took up the clarinet in the school band and both boys began singing in church and in elementary school choirs which led to performing solos on stage in high school. More instruments were added, actually, many more. Our sons took their love of music and their God-given musical talents to levels beyond what we had ever done ourselves or ever thought might happen with them. They used their musical talents to serve in various church ministries. Their involvement in music led to what they would say as musicians were some of their most enjoyable and memorable times of life, when their old-timey band was formed with friends from church.

Laurel Mountain Jug Band busking in the streets of Pittsburgh PA (Chuck, Simon, Nathan, Nick)
Wagon Wheel cover by Laurel Mountain Jug Band, our sons and their friends (Click on the link to listen!)

While still in high school, our older son Nick was introduced to the music of a little known band by the name of Old Crow Medicine Show. The music of Old Crow is best described as old-timey bluegrass, their most famous song being “Wagon Wheel” which become popular when covered by Darius Rucker. The music of Old Crow become so loved by our sons and their band that they covered many of their songs for the shows which they played at local car cruises and community events, with “Wagon Wheel” considered to be their signature song. Recently, Nick’s interest in Old Crow Medicine Show led him on a journey to learn more of the band’s history. After many months and hours of research and gathering resources and documentation and video editing, Nick arranged and narrated a video containing that information. It’s a very interesting, informational and well done documentary video that would especially be enjoyed by fans of Old Crow Medicine Show.

Music documentary of the history of Old Crow Medicine Show, by my son Nick (Click on the link to listen!)

In a way, I guess you could say that my love of music has come full circle. From country music songs being played in the living room as a kid to enjoying hearing our sons and their friends perform wonderful cover versions of Johnny Cash and Old Crow Medicine Show, our love of music remains. It is a gift of God. A gift that we’ve enjoyed for over 50 years. A gift that we often use to offer praise to Him, the creator of the blessing of music.

HOPE NUGGET: “…addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart…” [Ephesians 5:19]

Shine, Church, Shine!

A week ago today, the governor of Ohio announced that all K-12 schools would be closed for 3 weeks. The announcement came the day after the World Health Organization declared the coronavirus outbreak to be a pandemic. Even though we’d been hearing news reports about the virus for a few months, those 2 reports got my attention in a way that others hadn’t. Ohio is a neighboring state which had just 5 coronavirus cases at that time, and the announcement brought the concerns much closer to home. By the next morning, we learned that schools in our area of southwestern Pennsylvania were considering a 2-day closure. That same afternoon, the governor of PA declared that all schools in the state were required to close. Each day since the closure of schools, coronavirus diagnoses and deaths in the U.S. have increased and the situation has become more alarming.

Today is my fourth day off work from my job at a school in a local youth shelter. I spent all morning and part of the afternoon shopping for the items on a grocery list for my parents who are in their upper 70s and who are following social distancing recommendations. Toilet paper, Lysol disinfectant spray and Lysol wipes were included on the list. 5 hours, 15 stores and 30 miles later, I delivered their groceries. It wasn’t until the 11th store I visited that I found toilet tissue. Up until then, not one of the 10 stores I had been in had a single package of toilet tissue. In store number 11, I found a shelf with a small number of individual rolls of toilet tissue with a limit of one roll per customer. As for the Lysol items, there were none to be found.

I began thinking about those folks in our community who might not have had 5 hours to spend going from store to store or who might not have a reliable vehicle or gas money or who might have difficulty getting in and out of the vehicle 15 times in search of a package of toilet tissue. If really needed, I could have spent more time or driven farther, but what about others? Could they? Could my neighbor? 

“Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.” Don’t those words from Romans 13 apply to this situation? Aren’t we to be thinking of our neighbors when we choose to fill up our grocery carts and vehicles with package after package of toilet tissue or carton after carton of eggs? Shouldn’t it occur to us that others may need those supplies for their homes as well? Could my hoarding make life more difficult or inconvenient for another person who might be elderly or ill or without the means that I have to search for them?

Interestingly, crises like the one we’re facing now seem to bring out either the best or the worst of humanity. For those who claim Christ, we should expect to see the best. We would expect to see sacrificing, giving, kindness, compassion, empathy and service towards our fellow man. Christians should have no part in greed, selfishness, arrogance, and self-centeredness. Simply stated, we are to love our neighbor as ourself (the second greatest commandment, according to Jesus).

Fortunately, there has been a lot of good being done. In our community, churches have voluntarily cancelled worship services in order to help curtail the further spread of the virus. Some churches have been preparing and donating free meals to those in need. Others are offering virtual Sunday messages being given by their pastors which could in turn be shared on social media to potentially many more people than would normally be in their Sunday services. Two friends of mine are doing virtual Ladies Bible studies which I’ve joined and am looking forward to attending. A high school friend who is a church worship leader will be taking the time to regularly share a devotion, prayer, and a youtube link to a favorite praise song. The adult Sunday School teacher from my church will be continuing our Sunday School class by video so that we can still have class “together.” What a blessing and what excellent and creative ways God is giving His people to continue as the Church!

Many Christians, including me, will not be worshiping in our church buildings for the time being. I’ve heard it said several times over the past few days: Don’t go to church. Be The Church. This is our time to shine, Church. Let’s do it.

HOPE NUGGET: The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light [Romans 13:12].

As White as Snow

Growing up in Pennsylvania meant being able to count on having several snowstorms during the winter months. My childhood included sled riding, snowball fights, snowmen, snow angels, snow forts, snowmobiles and a favorite of most kids – snow days home from school! As I’ve gotten older, some of the reasons why I enjoy snowstorms have changed. I don’t spend as much time outside in winter as I used to and appreciate more now the beauty of snow from within the house next to the crackling fireplace with a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

This winter though has been disappointing for any of us who look forward to the snow and who enjoy it for whatever the reason may be. After months of anticipating some “real snow” in southwestern Pennsylvania and not just another dusting like the ones we’ve been having, we finally received a more significant snowfall this past week. The ground was covered with over 4 inches and snow clung to the drooping tree branches. Such a beautiful sight! 

Our home is located in the Laurel Highlands, a region that lies in the western foothills of the Allegheny Mountains. Just about a 20 minute drive from our house is a scenic mountainous area where we enjoy spending time. After the snowfall last week, my husband and I drove up there over the weekend to do a little hiking in the woods. By then the heavier snowfall had ended and had turned to gentle flurries which were barely visible. As we walked along the snow-covered trails, completely surrounded by trees which just the week before were brown and bare (as would be expected in February), the beauty and tranquility of the place was breathtaking.

It is while out in nature that I most often marvel at God’s creation. How could I possibly be in a setting like that and not be reminded of the marvelous works of His hands? One of the most meaningful verses in all of scripture for me is found in Isaiah 1:18. It says, “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” Here we were in this beautiful place, which had turned from brown to white since our last visit the week before. While there, the image of my scarlet sins becoming white as snow, coupled with the tranquility of this small piece of heaven on earth, brought an incredible sense of peace. 

The God of the universe – reaching out to sinners such as me, such as you, inviting us to “come” and “to reason together” is way more breathtaking than any mountain setting, way more breathtaking than the most wonderful blessing in this world. I am washed white. God does not see scarlet nor does He see crimson when He looks at me. He sees white – my sins are white, as white as snow, as white as wool. I am forgiven. Perhaps when God sees me, a child of The King, one who is washed in the precious blood of His Son, Christ Jesus – perhaps He is affected like I am when I visit that special mountain site which He created. Perhaps it takes His breath away to see me washed clean and white as snow.

HOPE NUGGET: If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. [1 John 1:9]

A Fresh Start With A New Heart

I remember that day vividly, nearly two and a half years ago. That morning, while getting ready for work, my sister-in-law Amy called to say that it looked like today would be the day. A day that our family had been anticipating for months. Her 18 year old son, our nephew Matthew, would undergo lengthy heart transplant surgery at Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh. There was no way of knowing for sure if the surgery would actually take place that day, or if so at what time. Being that the hospital was only about an hour drive away, I got ready and left for work.

On the day of Matthew’s birth, we had gathered at a local hospital, excited about meeting the newest addition to our family. There was no reason to think that there would be any problems; we fully expected a healthy baby to be delivered. Within a short while after birth, we were told that Matthew was having trouble breathing and that a heart problem was detected. It would be necessary to transfer him to Children’s of Pittsburgh where determinations could be made of his condition and where he would receive more specialized care. 

Matthew at 1 month old with cousins Nick & Simon
(Matthew usually has a much more pleasant personality than shown in this picture!)

The devastating news came soon: Matthew had been born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome. The left side of his heart was underdeveloped. The diagnosis came with 3 options for my husband’s brother and his wife. 1 – they could choose to not intervene at all which would mean Matthew would not survive. 2 – they could choose to do a heart transplant. 3 – they could choose to have Matthew undergo a series of surgical procedures over several years which would allow his life to be extended, hopefully at least into his teens. The third option was recommended by doctors and chosen by Matthew’s parents.

There we were, 18 years later. Matthew certainly had his share of struggles by then, but had a happy and fulfilling life. Even though his heart was filled with love and joy, it had become too weak to support and sustain his life. There would not be much more time ahead for him without a heart transplant. While at work later that day, I got the word that Matthew was being prepped for surgery. The day we had hoped and prayed for was finally here. Matthew’s hospital room slowly filled with a few friends and close family. There was joking, nervous laughter, some hidden tears (both of joy and concern), prayers, hugs and see-you-after-the-surgery goodbyes. Matthew waved as he was wheeled down the hallway and the rest of us headed to the waiting room where we’d be together until late in the evening. Hours later and much to everyone’s relief, the phone call to Matthew’s parents came informing them that the surgery was a success. The new heart was beating strongly inside Matthew’s chest. 

Matthew with one of his biggest supporters – his brother Andrew (ages 10 & 5)

Ezekiel was a prophet to the Jewish people for at least twenty-two years and lived among the Jewish exiles in Babylon. A large portion of Ezekiel’s message to the Jews communicated judgment due to their continued rebellion against God [Ezekiel 1-32]. Despite their disobedience to Him, God offered them a wonderful gift with a message of hope through Ezekiel: “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh” [Ezekiel 36:26]. God’s desire was to restore Israel physically and spiritually. Physical restoration would occur with Israel returning to its own land as a nation. Spiritual restoration would occur through His Spirit as God transformed them and empowered them to do His will. He gave them a fresh start with a new heart.

Matthew was given a fresh start. God answered our prayers by means of a generous heart donor and a talented and dedicated medical team who provided him with physical restoration. Without the transplant, Matthew could very well not be with us today. A new heart was required to sustain his life. You and I may never be in need of a heart transplant, but the Bible makes it clear that we are all, even more importantly, in need of spiritual restoration. We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God [Romans 3:23]. Like the rebellious Jews who received God’s message through Ezekiel and like the people of Judah in Jeremiah’s time who didn’t incline their ears to hear from God, our hearts are evil and stubborn and disobedient [Jeremiah 7:24]. Walking in our own counsel is not the remedy; only God can give a fresh start with a new heart. The requirement is to turn to Christ, to put our Hope and Trust in Him. “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10).

HOPE NUGGET: Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” [2 Corinthians 5:17].

The Lady in the Window

It’s funny how the brain works and how suddenly out of nowhere, a random thought occurs or a memory which was buried deep within suddenly resurfaces. This coming June will be 10 years since my dad’s mom, my Grandma Alice, passed away. She was 90 years old when she was found sitting at the window of her kitchen. Grandma had spent many hours at that window, a window positioned in such a way that a comfortable chair next to it allowed for a view of the church next door, the railroad trestle, the homes of several neighbors, including a granddaughter and her family, and the main road which ran through the small town.

From early childhood, I remember countless times when visiting Grandma that we’d find her relaxing in her chair at the window. Often during visits, we would sit around the kitchen table while Grandma sat in her usual window seat. Some of my strongest memories of Grandma are of her in that seat or of the visits on warm summer evenings when we’d gather on the large front porch. We’d spend hours out there – Grandma usually on one of the gliders, while other family members sat on porch chairs or gliders or on the wooden ledge at the top of the porch’s wall around its perimeter. The wooden ledge was a favorite spot of mine, but reserved only for the older grandchildren and adults. Sitting there came with a warning to be careful and not fall off to the ground 7 feet below. I’d often sit with my back leaning against one of the porch posts with my legs stretched out and resting on the ledge. From that front porch, we’d talk to neighbors across the road or wave at passersby in their cars or on motorcycles as they honked their horns. It was a carefree time. 

Graduation day with Grandma Alice in her yard (June 4, 1982)

In Grandma’s aging years, she had become forgetful and would sometimes be confused in her thinking. During one of our visits, we had a conversation about that kitchen window and the chair where she sat. Grandma remarked that she enjoyed sitting at the window and waving at neighbors or to those in vehicles as they passed by. I know for sure that she did because anytime that we passed by her house without stopping to visit, we’d make sure to slow down enough to catch a glimpse of her at the window, to look for her wave, and to wave at her. I waved at Grandma in that window dozens upon dozens of times throughout my life. As our conversation proceeded, Grandma, as serious as could be, went on to tell us that she needed to be at that window, for if she wasn’t at the window, then the people wouldn’t wave at her. There’s no doubt that Grandma was convinced of that.

Our family still chuckles over Grandma’s declaration every time it’s retold. And yes, it is true. My Grandma Alice, The Lady in the Window, took her last breath while sitting in her chair at the window. On her final day at the window, my dad, who faithfully visited her every day, made the short drive from his house to see his Ma. On that early summer evening, as he approached the side porch of the house and looked toward the window, he noticed that she was still, and that she hadn’t waved. I’ve wondered different times about who the final person was that she waved to and who the final person was that she saw wave to her. 

Grandma waited and she watched. She was ready at that window every day. I know that Grandma was always ready to wave to her neighbors and even to strangers who would pass by. I don’t know if on that last day, she expected Jesus to call upon her. She believed in Him. She claimed Him as Savior. She had sat in the pews of that small church learning about the Gospel of Christ. But, did she expect to see Him that day? Did He wave to her or did He gesture for her to go with Him? I trust that she was ready to meet Him on that day.

Grandma Alice, Christmas 1994, age 74

Are we waiting and watching for Jesus? Are we ready for Him? Are we dressed for service with our lamps burning? When He knocks, will we open the door? Have you opened the door of your heart to Him?

HOPE NUGGET: “Be dressed ready for service and keep your lamps burning, like servants waiting for their master to return from a wedding banquet, so that when he comes and knocks they can immediately open the door for him. It will be good for those servants whose master finds them watching when he comes…..You also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.” [Luke 12: 35, 36, 37a, 40]

Flashlight Tag

A favorite activity of our 2 and 4 year old granddaughters on “sweepover” nights is playing “Flashlight Tag” with Pappy & Grammy. The popular children’s game of Hide-and-Seek can be traced back to second century Greece. It’s a game that most anyone reading this probably played as a child. The game resurfaced in our household when grandchildren came along, with Uncle Nick being “It” and little Junie hiding in the same spot every time under the covers in the bed of “The Toy Story room.” She would run back through the hallway giggling and diving under the covers of that bed, convinced that she was fooling Uncle Nick and that he would not be able to find her this time! 

Flashlight Tag hiding place!

Our game of Hide-and-Seek evolved into a game which we now call Flashlight Tag. This game has become a routine for us played on sleepover nights after the sun goes down and before bedtime stories. The past 2 weeks of Christmas vacation included countless rounds of Flashlight Tag. The team of Hiders uses their flashlights to find a good hiding spot and after shouts of “Ready, Set, Here We Come!” the team of Seekers uses their flashlights to locate the Hiders. Flashlight Tag with 2 and 4 year olds is highly entertaining …. flashlights left on while in their hiding spots, laughter coming from the places of hiding, hiding over and over in the same locations, and shouts of surprise when a hider is found! 

On Sunday morning, our last day of Christmas vacation together before their drive to the airport, we did something different together by holding “House Church” at Pappy and Grammy’s. We read the Bible story of Jonah and sang songs and talked about how Jonah ran from God. Like 2-year old Ellie playing Flashlight Tag and thinking that she could leave the flashlight turned on while under the cover and not be found, Jonah mistakenly thought that he would not be visible to God if he went in a direction opposite of Ninevah, the place where God had commanded him to go. Jonah thought that he could run from God. He thought that by boarding the ship sailing for Tarshish that he could avoid obeying God’s voice. He ran, but he could not hide. The cover of the ship did not keep God from finding Jonah’s hiding spot. [Jonah 1]

Our House Church lesson…paintings by Junie and Ellie

Our 4 year old granddaughter has improved her skills in Flashlight Tag. She stays quiet when hiding, she doesn’t leave on her flashlight, and she now tries to find unique and different hiding locations. She understands that even when putting a lot of effort into hiding that sooner or later she will be found. Do you wonder why Jonah had the idea that he could avoid God’s plan for him to speak to the people of Ninevah? How could he have not realized that no matter how far he traveled that he wouldn’t escape God’s presence? Why did it take something as drastic as being in the belly of a great fish for three days for Jonah to submit to the will of God? Will God need to get your attention or my attention by appointing a great fish to swallow us?

HOPE NUGGET: “I called out to the LORD, out of my distress, and he answered me; out of the belly of Sheol I cried, and you heard my voice.” [Jonah 2:2]