«‹17 181920 21 ›»

There’s a limit.

Posted on October 14, 2012 by Margaret

Having been raised by a “yes-mom,” I wanted to be one too, but sometimes that got me into trouble. Like the time I agreed to let Louisa own a couple of piranhas. But my “yes” was for a good reason: a school science project. Her plan was to see if piranhas were as ferocious as everyone said they were, by watching and charting their eating habits.

We went to the local fish store, and the proprietor led us to a divided tank where two piranhas lived. While he netted and bagged them, Louisa and I listened to his fish stories, which were entertaining until he stuck his finger in front of our noses and said, “See this big notch? A piranha tried to eat me once.”

But Louisa’s two fish were already bagged, so with wide eyes, we left the store.

Apparently piranhas will eat anything, gobbling up other fish, plants, whatever looks tasty. They’ll even attack prey larger than they are, including (gulp) humans, if they have the chance.

Louisa faithfully fed her piranhas by adding several goldfish to the tank each day, careful not to get too close when she did, and little by little, the goldfish disappeared. It was impossible to watch the piranhas eating them, though, since they wouldn’t dine while she was in the room. Eventually she left a video camera running and did catch them eating, on film. The camera, however, couldn’t detail the lightning fast attack-and-gulp of those piranhas. Each kill happened in a split second.

Louisa’s piranha project didn’t yield too much scientific data, but it did deliver an unexpected conclusion. A few days after she had stopped taping, she walked into her room and saw that one piranha had eaten the other.

These fish have insatiable appetites, along with strong determination to satisfy them, no matter what. Sadly, we humans often operate the same way, going to great lengths to satisfy our desires, and I don’t mean just with food but in all categories. Walking that center line between wanting something good and pursuing too much of it is a difficult place to live, but that’s usually the exact spot where God wants us. The question is, why?

Maybe he’s assigned us the difficult job of setting limits for ourselves so we’ll have repeated opportunities to be victorious. Then, as we’re willing to work on it, he roots for us, offering help along the way and hoping we’ll succeed.

After Louisa’s science fair ended (without a blue ribbon), she had wanted to keep the remaining piranha as a pet, but I was nervous about housing such a vicious animal. So we brought him back to the store, for lack of any other ideas of how to get rid of him. The guy took one look and said, “Whoa! How much did you feed this guy? He’s 4 times bigger than he should be!”

And I guess that’s a good reminder that giving in to big appetites only leads to bigger ones.

“Each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. [God] tempts no one.” (James 1:14,13)

Nate’s Notes

Posted on October 11, 2012 by Margaret

Anyone who’s lost someone they love through death is acquainted with the harsh finality of the separation. No new photos of that person, no fresh conversations, no advice or opinions, no notes or cards.

Earlier this week when my Hope Chest revealed a whole bagful of Nate’s handwritten notes that I hadn’t remembered saving, my heart skipped a beat, and I gave the bag a big hug. I believe God led me to those notes to help me develop a spirit of gratitude within my widowhood. In that same spirit, I share a sampling here with you.

Rising by 5:00 am every morning to make his long commute to Chicago’s Loop, Nate and I didn’t connect on workday mornings. Instead his greeting to me was a 3 x 5 card, usually propped against the coffee pot. Despite the financial crucible he was experiencing at the time, a positive tenor flowed through his messages. Reading them from my current position without him, has been inspirational.

(No need to read them all, if you can even read them at all!)

It’s good for each of us to ask, “When my family is disposing of my things, what statements will my life be making?”

If I could choose one theme I’d like them to find, it would be gratitude, and not just gratitude in general, but gratitude to God. I have a long way to go, but Nate’s notes have inspired me in that direction. Maybe I’ll even buy myself a pack of 3 x 5 cards.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.” (1 Chronicles 16:34)

Visiting with Nate

Posted on October 10, 2012 by Margaret

For many years I’ve had a piece of furniture some people would call a “Hope Chest.” Several generations back, every young woman put together a trousseau, beginning in her teens, stockpiling items in her Hope Chest to be used at a future date.

Under the tutelage of a mother, grandmother, and aunties, she’d hand-make dresses, table linens, towels, bed linens, and quilts, adding decorative stitching to make them unique. Her “hope” would be to one day have her own home and family where the carefully collected chest-full of items would become her contribution to the start of her marriage. This tradition continued well into the 1950’s.

I loved the idea of a Hope Chest, though I didn’t have one. But years after I was married, despite having closets loaded with everything I needed, I asked Nate if I could have a Hope Chest for my 40^th birthday. We chose it together, and I filled it with sentimental items I wanted to keep: baby shoes, my Girl Scout sash, the mold of a child’s hand, my first piece of little-girl jewelry, a child’s art project, an engraved drinking cup, and about 50 other things.

This week I decided to dig for something from Birgitta’s childhood that she might appreciate as she approaches motherhood. Gradually I emptied the Hope Chest, enjoying the written explanations and memories accompanying each item. And when I got to the bottom, I found a lovely surprise: Nate.

Even though he’s been gone for nearly 3 years, tucked into the cedar-lined corner was something I don’t remember putting there: a ZipLoc bag full of his handwriting.

Well over 200 notes and letters filled the bag, each one dated, most about 10 years old. Apparently I’d tucked them away before we moved to Michigan in 2009, before Nate’s back trouble, before cancer, before death. Picking up that bag stuffed with his thoughts brought a little squeal of happiness out of me, and I tucked the whole thing under my pillow for later, anticipating a mini-visit with Nate each night for quite awhile. Looking at several pieces just before turning out the light would be a sweet something to anticipate through each day.

I had no doubt my “find” was God’s doing. He’s a Person of deeply felt compassion for each of us. Although he’s far too grand to know him completely, he orchestrates wonderful “flukes” now and then, to let us know he’s very near. The cache of Nate’s notes was a reminder of that, and I shook my head in wonder at what a caring God he is.

When I finally began reading the notes (well over 200 of them), they reflected bits of carefree humor I’d nearly forgotten were part of those financially stressful days 10 years ago. But inside that baggie, God was communicating something else to me: “Please don’t forget.” And his reason?