Freshening Up

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Women love their homes. God gave each of us a nesting instinct, which translates to arranging our space to reflect our personalities and become a nourishing place.

For example, some of us love bright colors, others like muted ones. Some like formal, some informal. Some like a cleaned-off look, while others prefer something interesting on every square inch. We enjoy choosing what to display in our homes, and we like the process of putting it all together.

I remember reading the story of a family who moved virtually every year. As soon as the moving van had unloaded and pulled away, the mother picked flowers from nearby plantings (even if they were just wild flowers or weeds) and made an arrangement for the kitchen counter. To her it meant, “We’re home.”

If we women are able to choose new paint, new carpeting or new curtains, we get an extra boost. To have a freshened-up house is to feel fresh ourselves.

Here in my Michigan cottage it’s been a traumatic year, a year I hope never to repeat with its anguish and upset. Although the house was needy when we bought it a decade ago, we used it only sporadically for nine years and did nothing to improve it. We gathered there for the relationships and the beach, and taking time to fix up a run-down place wasn’t our priority.

But when Nate and I moved here full-time last summer, we walked through the house together and made a dream list of home improvements, from fresh paint to a remodeled kitchen (and a dishwasher!), new windows to replace those that were rotting, new flooring, landscaping, a shower someplace other than the basement, and many other things. But when cancer engulfed us, the wish list was set aside.

Then somewhere during the dark of winter, a few weeks after Nate’s death when the world was icy cold, Mary thought it would refresh my wilted spirit to redecorate a room. “Let’s paint the ‘library’!” she said, trying to generate the enthusiasm for both of us.

In a “regular” year, I would’ve jumped at the chance to work together on such a project. But this winter found me disturbed to the core. To add additional disturbance by removing books from shelves and making the compulsory mess to paint a room was completely debilitating. It actually made me cry.

This week, eight months later, the idea sounded better. We began with fresh ceiling paint and have decided not to stop with one room but to freshen up five. God is steadily, slowly bringing healing. I’ve been trusting him to do that all along, and today the smell of wet paint was a fresh fragrance indeed.

“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:19)

Father Knows Best

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God is full of surprises. He doesn’t think like we do, plan like we do or respond to circumstances like we do. He has no limitations and never runs out of ideas. He never has to “rack his brain” or wonder, “What should I do?”

That’s because he’s God, in the top slot, in all categories. So it makes perfect sense, since we’re not at the top, that we don’t understand why things happen to us. With our limited point of view, we reason that if God is in control and this awful thing has happened, why didn’t he stop it?

Growing up in the 1950’s, my family didn’t watch much TV. Television was new, and there wasn’t a whole lot to look at. By 10:30 PM, the national anthem was played, and all programming ceased until morning. One show we did find to watch, though, was “Father Knows Best.”

Mary and I have sweet memories of our relationship with the Andersons, a family much like ours with two girls, one boy, a home in the suburbs and a daddy who walked in each evening wearing a hat and carrying a newspaper. Tonight we watched one of those black and white episodes from 1958. Just hearing the theme music was a thrill, and seeing our old “friends” again was a pleasure.

In tonight’s story, the father, Jim, finds himself facing Saint Peter at heaven’s pearly gates. Peter is assessing whether or not Jim ought to “get in.” When he questions him about a decision he made, Jim says, “That was an especially difficult one.”

Peter says, “Naturally it was difficult. It’s part of our master plan. We do that purposefully. We keep throwing difficult choices in your path to test you. It’s the decisions you make that shape you into what you are.”

Without realizing it, this script line had made a scriptural point. And because of God’s perfect analysis of every person and what each needs, we can believe there are exceedingly important reasons for the “difficult choices” that are “thrown” at us.

As autumn approaches, my mind back-steps to a year ago. On this date, though we knew nothing of Nate’s cancer, we were within three weeks of finding out, within nine weeks of his death. But God had already decided on the test, had put the details in place and was about to light the circumstantial fuse. The difficult choices Saint Peter mentioned were barreling toward our family.

Every day for 42 days Nate woke to new tests buried within the big cancer-test, and so did the rest of us. His trials were excruciating, both physically and emotionally, but ours also involved pain, and still do. Television-Peter was quoting the biblical-James when he said, “It’s the decisions you make that shape you into what you are.”

While we knit our brows and wrestle with the tough ones, there is a choice we can make up front that’ll facilitate all the rest: to choose to believe each test does come from an all-wise God.

Of course that means even if we don’t like our tests, we must trust that our heavenly Father really does know best.

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.” (James 1:12)

Family Updates, Part II: Grandchildren

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Our family patriarch died of cancer on November 3, 2009. Within six months God had increased our ranks by bringing three new grandchildren to us. Nate and I have five grandbabies altogether, and I believe he knows more about each of them than I have yet learned.

A few years ago, when I was in my early sixties, I’d complained to more than a few friends that I was getting old without any grandchildren. Everyone I knew seemed to be “ahead of me” having the time of their lives with their little ones. Nate encouraged me by saying, “Don’t worry. When they come, it’ll probably be in a litter.” To my great joy, that’s what happened.

Skylar Grace – This sparkly little ball of fire was born in July of 2008, a miracle of God who came to be after doctors insisted a child would be impossible. She banished tears and brought laughter, and calls me Grandma Midgee. Because she’s been an early talker, we now converse over the phone like two regular people rather than an adult to a baby. In September she’s coming from Florida to visit, and I can’t wait!

Nicholas Carl – This little guy, born in January of 2009, already has dual citizenship in both the United States and the United Kingdom. His father took a British bride, and we are all wondering if Nicholas will have an accent like his daddy or his mummy. He arrived with a compliant personality and has been going with the flow ever since, giving his parents no trouble and learning life’s lessons with optimism and a smile.

Micah Nathan – Round as a butterball, Micah came to us three months after Nate died, in February of this year. He bears his grandfather’s name and will hear stories of who this man was, knowing him at least in this way. Watching a lively older sister is Micah’s favorite pastime, although mealtime runs a close second. I was hoping for at least one redhead, and Micah’s head-fuzz is hinting toward that end.

Evelyn Sarah – This little one, the female half of a double surprise blessing, arrived four months ago. The petite one of the pair, she makes few demands and finds security in the presence of her twin brother. They still sleep in the same crib, and when one wakes during the night, the other wakes, too, sharing meal time with mummy as a threesome.

Thomas Nathan – Since the name Thomas means twin, this little guy is aptly named. The fact that he’s a second baby-Nathan is double-joy to me and I hope one day to him. Thomas arrived weighing a pound more than Evelyn and has kept the weight-lead since then, growing tall well ahead of his petite sister. Several of us will be visiting the twins and Nicholas in October, refreshing relationships that span an ocean.

In Scripture, Job experienced losses in every life category including ten family deaths in one day. Ravaged with grief, he turned toward God and said, “The Lord gave me what I had, and the Lord has taken it away.” In our case, although our losses were not as catastrophic as Job’s, we say the same thing, only in reverse: “The Lord has taken away (Nate’s life), and the Lord has given us what we have (three new lives).”

Five little ones in 21 months? Now, that’s a litter! Job’s bottom line is ours, too: “Praise the name of the Lord!”

“ ‘The Lord gave me what I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord!’ In all of this, Job did not sin by blaming God.” (Job 1:21b-22)