Abide in Me...

On April 6, 2008, I wrote:

It is amazing what happens when we begin to be obedient to what God calls us to do. This has been a busy week in the gratitude department and now I am faced with the task of exactly what God wants me to share.

It amazes me, and I still don’t know why I get so amazed, it’s God’s way, that you can read a piece of scripture time and time again and then one day, you read the same passage you are so familiar with and the words become alive in you in ways they never have before. That happened with me this week with John 15: 1-17. “I am the vine and my Father is the gardener…” I don’t know how many times I have read that this week and I just feel God calling me to absorb it, own it and let it be written on my heart. And for two days, I left the TV off and went about my days as I let the word of God soak into my being.

It hasn’t been an easy week. But it has been a God week. We were so eager for life to get back to some sense of normalcy following the accident and we were so concerned about our son’s mental well-being that we tried to push him to talk about it. And we finally had to let go and give up on it. But this week, he began to ask questions and the answers brought back memories that had been buried…some very painful. A very dear friend who was dealing with her own trauma was having a particularly low week and we talked for hours. And we have faced yet another “loss” in life, as we have known it, as our living situation changed. And then there was the death of a friend…not just any friend but one of those people who were the hands, heart and feet of Jesus when there was no one else around. He was buried just yesterday.

And God said, “Abide in me.” And those words kept lying as a gentle reminder all week. And as I reflected on the conversation with our son, I heard God say, “See, Lynn, my timing is perfect, yours was too quick.” At the end of the week, after daily conversations with my friend, I received the most beautiful e-mail and then a phone call that a breakthrough had come! We laughed and celebrated together and rejoiced at the difference in the beginning and the end of the week! We went to the near-by city and celebrated my sister-in-law’s new home with her as we dealt with our own sadness within and we watched as the movers came and loaded up, what we all thought was going to be a lifetime of sharing life at the farm. And then we left to ready ourselves for the funeral of our friend.

We can find God in the most unexpected places. This friend, on the exterior would not fit into “religion’s” picture of a Christian. Many were offended by his way of telling you what he thought and then some. I liked knowing where I always stood. Many were offended by his language and brash ways. I sometimes cringed but then I also saw beyond that and saw the diamond at the heart of the man. You see, when we were strangers in this town (which we still are), he reached out to us, he made a point to make us feel welcome and a part. When Elliot died, I remember seeing him as we arrived at the cemetery, standing away from the crowd, in a way that forever said, “I’m here for you.” After the funeral, many times he would call and come by, just to see how we were. Our son worked for their family one summer and when he had his accident, although his health did not allow our friend the freedom to get around, he called and he called, to check on him and on us. As we left the church yesterday, our son said, “He even called me when he could barely talk, just to see how I was doing.” That is what he did for us. But there were many who were hungry, he gave food to. There were many who needed a ride, he would transport. He was the kind, when he saw a need, he filled it. No hoop-a-la, no questions, no fanfare. He just did it. He loved God, he loved his church, he loved his family, and he loved people. Yet many stayed away from him because he did let you know where he stood (and then some), his language could be a little rough and his ways a little brash, but those people were the ones who were cheated, because they missed the blessing of seeing the hands and feet…the heart of Jesus in action. We never know where, we never know when, we never know in what form, we may see God revealed.

“Abide in me…” My Father the gardener is still pruning me and it is not a painless process but by abiding in Him, he has given me the gift of revelation along the way that fills me with awe and wonderment and amazement at His abiding love and amazing grace and His most perfect timing. “Abide in me…Abide in me…Abide in me…”

To GOD be the glory!

Lynn

Forty years later and the Purple Flower Man

On March 30, 2008, I wrote:

Our home is built in the middle of a pasture and our “lawn” is nothing more than pasture growth cut down to lawn height. So we have a varied mix of grasses and weeds (mostly the latter).

There is nothing like the first signs of Spring. The first displays of color are exciting to me, even if it does mean that the workload is about to double with outside chores. One of the first colors to appear in our yard is purple. And the first sprouts of purple bring a glimpse of what is yet to come. I start to pay attention to all the new signs of Spring as the birds search for places to nest and the flowers and trees begin to bud with new growth and then…aargh…the purple flowers, I have been told are called “hen bit,” are now these huge dark clumps all over my yard, interspersed with big clumps of green against the backdrop of what has not yet greened out.

What, just a few weeks ago I saw as a sign of new life springing forth, I now saw as an unsightly mess that needed to be cleaned up. And so with excitement, I began, what would soon become the dreaded chore and what has become equal to the season of Spring…"mowing season." I wanted to clean up the mess.

But under the “mess” would lay a very special surprise. Under the hen bit were the tiniest of delicate purple flowers. They, too, are probably considered a weed in these parts, but to this old soul, they are a reminder of God’s wooing grace.

I was about ten and a child who lived in a world where few had the time of day to give to me. I had been sent to camp for a week, much to my lonely and antisocial dismay. There was a scavenger hunt and off I went, alone, with my list, searching for the items. On the list was “a purple flower.” I had found everything on the list except for that and was wandering along a path when an old man (he was probably about my age, now) with gray hair came up to me and asked how I was doing. I explained that I had it all but the purple flower, knowing, from all of my other life experiences, that it probably wasn’t important to him. But what happened next would leave a forever mark on my heart.

I remember him and me; down on our knees as he raked the leaves back with his hands and revealed a tiny delicate purple flower. He looked up at me and smiled as if he had found life’s greatest treasure and said to me, “they didn’t say how big it had to be, did they?”

In that moment, I experienced, in a powerful way, what I would come to know, to be God’s grace. Someone took the time, cared enough to stop along the way, to help me, insignificant me, find a purple flower. And it wasn’t even easy to do.

Sometimes we never know how the smallest of actions or a few minutes of our time, stopping along the way, can impact a person. I’m sure the man whom I only remember as “the purple flower man” never dreamed that in that small instant of time he would make such a huge impact on that young girl. Time was something that too few could give. When I picture God’s wooing grace in my life, the purple flower man is one of the first pictures that come to mind. You see, he gave me something I had not experienced. He took the time to care and walk with me along the way. He got his hands dirty to help me find the hidden treasure.

Is that not what happens with God’s grace in our lives? It gives us an example, a reason to take the time to care, to walk with others along the way, to sometimes get our hands dirty to help others find the hidden treasure of God buried underneath the filth?

As I mowed, more and more of the tiny purple flowers came to light and it seemed as if the yard was carpeted with them. And my heart was filled with a deep sense of joy as I thought back to the purple flower man. I felt a deep sense of wonder as I saw the multitude of the tiny purple flowers. They were such a blessing to my soul. Sometimes, we never really know if we make a difference in people’s lives. I’m sure the purple flower man didn’t know what a powerful symbol of God’s grace he would become to me and that over 40 years later I would still have that moment etched in my heart.

Sometimes we walk with Jesus, unaware and other times we are the hands, feet and heart of Jesus, unaware. A simple flower, a simple act, a lifetime of influence. For those who stop along the way and give the time of simple acts of kindness filled with God’s grace…those are God’s glory! God give me the wisdom to be more like them!

Lynn

Chaos, Shamrocks and Easter

On March 23, 2008, I wrote:

Sometimes it can get quite lonely up on this beautiful hill. It is a child’s playground and was intended as such, but the events of the last few years have changed our dreams. Tragedy struck, but also, adulthood came for the boys we had built our lives around. One moved to California and took a wife, the last one we all expected to do so, did so first. One has built a thriving landscape business which keeps him quite busy, year-round and the other two are busy building their careers. And all the while, they, too, must deal with the tragedy that has so deeply touched their lives, and we are reminders of all of the loss.

They were a tight group of kids in high school. Their weekends were spent in the woods or working on cars or just being boys. Our door was a revolving door and when there was nothing to do, it was done at our house. They were an interesting, odd bunch, but they were so tight. And as normally expected, they all sort of did their own thing after high school but, they would regularly come back together and it was as if nothing had ever changed. They picked up where they left off.

When Elliot died, they were all right there for my husband and I while our other son was out of the country. And when he came home, they were at the farm for him, every time he came, so he wouldn’t have to be alone. Friends like that are rare in life. But when Allison died, it seemed the farm took on a spirit of sadness and the trips subsided somewhat.

In January, two of the group flew to California to bring their buddy and his wife home. It was another adventure to add to the already thick stack! Coming to the farm was one of the first places he wanted to come when he got back “home.”

It wasn’t until this past weekend that it finally was able to happen. Some even rearranged work schedules. One gave up, one last weekend, with a close friend that was moving away. I spent my Friday cleaning, forgoing the mopped floor, because I had been here before…it was senseless to mop BEFORE they came. And after work, two by two, they began to trickle in. Family came to see them all and food was plenty. Bonfires, pasture rides, four-wheeling, target practice and playing Wii. The house was alive again with a group of boys …hummm…men…acting as if no time had ever passed from those days long ago in their hometown. The four wheelers and one truck were muddy and they came back to get the other truck so they could get it muddy as well! I watched as they included the new wife and the “California girl” learned what one did without shopping malls and Starbucks. And she loved it! They wallowed on the furniture, left dirty clothes everywhere, ate everything in sight, looked for opportunities to aggravate “Momma Lynn” and turned our home into total chaos.

Saturday night, as I cooked their favorite meal, I stood at the stove and, in my heart, I felt the deepest sense of gratitude as the chaos around me felt so much like home. It had been a long time since it had felt this alive! And it felt like Elliot was right here with us!

Sunday, we returned from church to a house full, playing Wii. Our son came in from being out on the four wheeler…”You bunch of losers, it’s a beautiful day outside and y’all are in here playing video games.” The game was over and off they went for one last romp in the four wheelers and trucks. I stood on the hill and listened and watched and it seemed that all was right with the world.

Elliot had a shamrock tattoo. Why would I tell you that now? After all had left and I swept the horrifically dirty floor, I, wisely, chose not to mop, I looked down in the rubble of the weekend to find in the midst of the pile…a shamrock.

Today, we celebrate emptiness, we celebrate the unknown, the unexpected, the chaos of not knowing…don’t you think that is some of what Jesus’ followers were feeling many years ago following his brutal death? And then they discover an empty grave? Someone stole his body? Now that is insult to injury!

But then they turn around and he is there…He is ALIVE! It had to be as difficult to comprehend then as it is now. But HE LIVES! HE LIVES! And because HE LIVES we can celebrate the new life he brings to our emptiness, the anticipation of new life in the unknown, the warmth, the joy, the gratitude in the unexpected and the peace He brings in the chaos.

Last weekend, I got to experience Easter! To GOD be the Glory!

Lynn