The End of One Story, the Beginning of Another

I flip through the calendar, a gift from my missionary daughter. Family face after family face jump off the pages. Grandkids roasting marshmallows during our Grandparent Camp, splashing in a sparkling pool, tip-toeing through ocean waves that kiss the shore, digging in the sand, holding each other in a group huddle, baking cookies, carving pumpkins, wrestling on the floor . . . well, the list could go on.



Good times at Mission Manor, the name we've given our home since we house our missionary kids from time to time when they come off the field.

I pause to reflect on a quote written beside one calendar page.

Sometimes you have to let one story end so the next one can begin, so says Winnie the Pooh.

I lower the calendar to my lap, ponder the truth of that statement.

How we've lived that with all three of our missionary daughters and their families who are spread around the world. If we've learned anything in the last 14 years since our firstborn left for India, it's that the missionary life is one of many transitions.

One story ends, another begins.

Currently, one family lives with us until August when they hope to leave for language school. God gifted us 12 years with this daughter and fam as they served in inner city ministry in our hometown. Now, the Lord is leading them to overseas ministry. It will be an adjustment for all of us.

But we must let that story end, so that a new story can begin in Africa.

Each story has its share of joy and sorrow, adapting, moving forward to embrace the next God-given task for His glory.

For His glory! Isn't that the ultimate purpose of every story? At least I think it should be . . .

That He might be exalted among the nations; that He might be exalted in the earth! 
(see Ps. 46:10)

His grand story of redemption through Christ will never end. Those who know and love Him will be singing the glory of this story for all eternity! May we be forever grateful/humbled that He has invited us to play a part.

30-Day Praise Challenge!

Hope you're enjoying summer with time to relax and regroup. Yet, even in summertime, a noisy world screams at us in a plethora of ways!

One helpful exercise you might want to incorporate into your daily quiet time is a Good Thoughts list based on the words in Philippians 4:8. I've found that dwelling on what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, of good report, excellent, and worthy of praise provides a powerful uplift to my day. Many others testify to the same.

It can be even more rewarding to watch for these concepts in Scriptures you are already studying. Be sure to write them down. Chronicling adds to the richness, which you can then share with others. The samples below are drawn from this morning's quiet time in Genesis, chapters 1 and 2. Here's how to do it. Keep in mind the words may vary according to your translation.

TRUE: Name something that is true, i.e., God (Eloheim) created the world and all that is in it! (Genesis, chapter one). God's glory in the majestic mountain range at Carvin's Cove (later in the day while sitting at the Cove); my life held in a holy, loving God's hands. (No need to write complete sentences--often a word or two will express something that is true. Notice that I also drew from what was around me and what I know to be true about God from other scripture passages. The idea is start small. Over time, you will likely add depth to your list).

HONORABLE: Marriage (Genesis 2:24-25, also reminded me of Hebrews 13:4).

RIGHT: Leaving parents, cleaving to spouse (Genesis 2:24); praying with Jonathan and family this morning before they left for Indiana.

PURE: the marriage bed (undefiled--Heb. 13:4); a holy God; quiet moments with Abba Father.

LOVELY: the precious stones mentioned in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 2:11-12). Reminded me of the precious stones of the holy city in Revelation 21:18-21; ripples on the water at Carvin's Cove.

GOOD REPORT: the Lord God pursues (Genesis 3:9); God made garments to cover Adam and Eve (Genesis 3:21)--a foreshadowing of how Christ would later shed His blood to cover my sin.

EXCELLENT: the work God has given me to do (Genesis, chapter 2).

WORTHY OF PRAISE: Grandchildren sharing about Togo in VBS the other evening.

If you're up for it, take the 30-DAY PRAISE CHALLENGE and see if jotting down feedback on these words  helps you think in a more godly way. I find that the list grows in depth and variety the more I engage in the exercise, which is exciting and fulfilling!

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For additional devotional resources, check out my book, Breathe Deeply God's Grace.

 

Daddy's Hands

Often my grandchildren ask me to tell them a story about when I was a little girl. Here is one of their favorites in honor of my Daddy, now in heaven with His Lord. I wrote the piece when he was 87.

DADDY’S HANDS

Eileen Rife © 2000

A large hand reached down to grasp my small hand. My daddy was walking me to school. I looked up at him in wonder. He was so tall. So strong. Dark wavy hair framed his tanned face. Deep blue eyes twinkled in the morning light. A whistle spewed from his lips. I felt safe. My daddy was with me.

           

Lost in my reflection, I suddenly felt daddy's hand gently release mine and nudge me inside the school door. As he squeezed me, he planted a warm kiss on my cheek. My heart sank to let daddy go. I fought back the tears, reassuring myself that I would soon be home again.

The school bell rang and I bolted for the school door. Several yards down the sidewalk, I skidded to a stop. I waited as the traffic light changed from red to green. Then I dashed across the street to Mr. Adam's store, my routine stopping place after a tiring school day.

Inside the store, the aroma of fresh fruit filled my nostrils. I observed Mr. Adams in his blood-stained apron slicing meat behind the glass counter. Up front, the cashier rang up an elderly lady's goods as the bag boy meticulously sorted the items into a bag.

I veered to the right, past the cashier and straight to my favorite aisle--CANDY LANE! My mouth watered as I eyed the chocolate bars, lollipops, and bubble gum. 

Mmm, what am I in the mood for today? I pondered. After scanning the goodie buffet, I decided on a two-cent piece of bubble gum--the rectangular pink kind with the twin halves wrapped in cartoon paper. I reached in my pocket to retrieve my money. To my chagrin, my pockets were empty. I frantically racked my brain for a solution. The thought struck that since kind Mr. Adams often gave me candy, he probably wouldn't care if I took this tiny piece of bubble gum. Settled in my mind, I quickly shoved the gum in my pocket and hurried to the door.

Once home, I laid the gum beside my bookbag on the kitchen table and went to the sink to get a drink of water. Just then, daddy entered the kitchen. In his typical booming fashion, he spoke: "How was school today?"

"Fine," I glibly responded. 

Daddy glanced at my bookbag and then at the gum. "Where'd you get the gum?" he casually asked. 

I set my glass down and slowly turned to face daddy while bracing my body against the counter. A flicker of guilt flashed across my mind. Hot shame started at my neck and crept up into my face.

Clearing my throat, I answered, "At Adam's Store." I hoped daddy would be satisfied with that answer. He wasn't. He knew he had not given me any treat money that day. 


Daddy persisted in his line of questioning. All of a sudden, I felt like I'd stepped into a wild west show. I was the bad guy and daddy was the law. I didn't like this show-down. I wanted to run away with the dust at my heels and not look back. But there would be no running today. I was cornered and I knew it.

"Did Mr. Adams give you the gum, Eileen?" daddy asked. 


My face turned red. I felt hot again. Like a trapped firefly trying to escape from a sealed jar, I longed for release from daddy's questions.

At last I mustered the courage to speak. "Well...no," I stammered, looking down at the floor. I nervously slid one foot back and forth across the tile. "But Mr. Adams always gives us candy anyway," I shot back. My words even sounded hollow to my ears. I knew I was in serious trouble. Daddy placed a high premium on honesty. This act of treachery was going to cost me. I watched daddy's hands. I expected him to spank me. Instead, he reached for the phone and called Mr. Adams.

When daddy hung up the phone, he turned and faced me. "You best take that gum back," he said with resolve. As I started to leave, daddy softened. He took my arm and gently patted my back. "Supper will be ready when you get home," he added.

In that instant, I felt a reassuring love emanating from daddy's hands. He had used his hands not only to instruct, but also to love, reminding me of my heavenly Father. How often God’s Son had used His hands to love people, to teach, to heal, and then to submit to the nails. All for my benefit.

My dad is eighty-seven now. He shuffles when he walks. I take his weak hand in my strong hand. He looks up at me with a smile and that familiar twinkle in his clear blue eyes and I smile back. 

“Isn’t God good?” daddy says. 

“Yes, daddy, He sure is,” I respond.