In Texas, we never really experience
Fall. Where I live we have two seasons:
hot, sticky weather and cooler, sticky weather.
It doesn’t snow here, and the beautiful vibrant colors of the leaves changing
exist only in pictures. Today, though, I
experienced Fall. Not in the way you’re
thinking. No, I did not breathe in the
fresh crisp air of falling temperatures.
Nor did I take in a spectacular scene of orange, red, and brown. What I experienced was more… unexpected.
The kids and I have gotten back into
walking a few times a week. We took a
very long break when I decided that pushing two screaming toddlers through our
neighborhood was not worth it any longer.
They always seemed to wait until we were at least a mile and half from
home, then took turns wailing while I rushed to return us all in one
piece.
As they have gotten older, I have
gotten wiser. I have learned the beauty
of negotiation. They love greeting the
horses, cows, and two dogs that live along our walking path, so they enjoy our
morning walks quite a bit now. I have
also discovered the art of bribery. If
they behave on the walk (which includes no screaming or whining and involves
keeping their hands and feet on their side of the double stroller), then I let
them hop out and run around at the “tree park,” which is really just a hill
with a bunch of trees planted around it.
To them, though, it is the best place ever to play chase and to collect
pine cones, acorns, and leaves.
That’s exactly what Jake and Lilly
were doing when Fall thumped me on the shoulder. As I sat on a concrete bench watching my kids
play, acorns seemed to be falling like raindrops from the oak trees. The kids took off with their buckets (which I have
found is much safer than Lilly stuffing her pockets full of nature finds which
inevitably end up in the washing machine).
Running at full speed, they were thrilled with all of the acorns on the
ground! Lilly immediately got to work
filling up her bucket. (Jake just likes
to carry his around!)
Isaiah 61:3 was the verse I read
earlier this morning: “For the Lord has
planted them like strong and graceful oaks for his own glory.” It was on my mind as I watched my kids run
like crazy underneath this perfect circle of oaks at the base of the hill. It reminded me of a family, my family, standing
in a circle, holding hands, relying on each others’ strength.
The past two weeks have brought with
them fierce winds for my circle of loved ones.
The blow of unexpected tragedy, uncertainty and confusion rooted in things
out of our control, and the reminder that life is but a breath.
After putting Jake and Lilly down
for a nap this afternoon, I loaded the pictures from the park that I had
snapped on my phone. As I was going
through each one, I smiled at my two little messes and thought some more about the
beautiful picture of family that God had laid on my heart. When I reached the end of the photos from the park,
I was taken back to the very first picture stored on my phone. I’m not even sure how this photograph made
its way there. It was just an ordinary
photo of an ordinary man in an ordinary truck with paint peeling off the roof.
That ordinary man in the photo was
my grandpa, my Pop. And God used that ordinary
man in some mighty ways. No, he was not
famous. And my Grandma will tell you
that he was far from perfect. He lived a
very ordinary life. This picture was
taken by his daughter and is so dear to her because as she says, “It’s just so him.”
I love that technology attaches the
exact date that this image was captured.
It turns out that this was the very last picture taken of Pop before he
went home to be with Jesus, just two months later. Here are some other ordinary facts about this
ordinary day in the life of an ordinary man:
He was watching my Grandma do a little spring cleaning in the backyard, as my
aunt, without him knowing it, snapped this candid shot. When my Grandma had a load of twigs and leaves to haul to the
dump, he’d help her load it in his truck, then he’d drive her down the road to
drop it off. He was too weak to help, because
he had just finished chemo. He had received encouraging news that week
from his doctor, and his prognosis was looking good. That same week I had called him to tell him that
I wanted my son to have his name. (I
remember that he cried when I told him.)
Two days before this picture was taken,
he celebrated his eightieth birthday. For his special day, our family
surprised him with a photo book full of pictures of his life and letters from
his loved ones. This is what his family said
to him and what their words say about the kind of life he lived:
My Grandma, his wife and best
friend said, “I knew at 16 that you would be the love of my life and you have
been. Thank you for all your love for
the Lord, for your faithfulness to me, for all your encouragement, your
provision for our family and on and on.”
He was a man who had his priorities in line. I love the fact that my Grandma thanked him
for putting God before her.
My brother, Jay, recalls a time when
he and a friend spent a week with my grandparents. He said, “Your warm smile and kind heart made
[my friend] feel as if he was one of your grandsons as well.”
My husband, Cody, traveled with me
to visit them in our first year of marriage.
He shared something similar. He
wrote, “Everyone treated me just like I was family, and it felt like home.”
My mom wrote about all the times he
drove her and my dad around on their Friday night dates. (They were high school sweethearts, and my
grandpa had much to do with my mom’s faith.)
She said, “You have become more like a father to me than a father-in-law,
because you have made me feel like your daughter.”
My sister-in-law, Brichelle,
recalled the special nickname that Pop gave to her: “Sea Shell.”
He was a man who made everyone feel loved and important.
My brother, David, was reminded of
Pop every time he walks into his shed. He told him, “The smell takes me back to
the days when I used to play on your tractors.”
My dad wrote about his fishing
trips with his dad. He said, “The
fishing was incredible, but more unforgettable was the time you spent listening
to my dreams and my failures. You never
judged, but always encouraged me.” He
went on to talk about his dad’s strength and his humility.
Pop was a man who shared life with those he loved, whether in his shop
with a tool in hand or on a rock holding a fishing pole. He wasn’t afraid to get dirty, and he knew
that life could be messy.
My aunt talked about her dad’s
faith. She wrote that “as a father, one
of the most important things that you could do for your children is to lay a
strong foundation of faith for them.”
She went on to say that she never gave it much thought as a kid, but as an
adult she recognizes that “without that foundation instilled in us we would never
be able to get through some of the trials that come our way.”
My dad, at age 55, said this of his father: “You are
my hero.”
As I slowly started piecing together
all that was held in this one ordinary, forgotten photo, tears started
streaming down my face. Oh!
Yes! The acorn! I see it now, God, I said.
One little acorn seems so
insignificant, so very ordinary. But stepping back to take in the circle of
giant oak trees that over time had grown tall and strong and gracious was extraordinarily breathtaking. I was reminded that God is in control and His
timing is perfect. I have heard it said
that God created time for us, but He exists outside of time. That must be why He can look at a tiny acorn
and see what it will become, hundreds of years down the road. To me, the thought of something so small
growing into something so big and beautiful is beyond mysterious. But not to God. He always looks at what is to come, rather
than our present state.
As I sat down to type these words, unsure of
how it would all spill out onto the page, He brought me to the book of
Luke. In Chapter 8, Jesus teaches a
parable about soil. He describes a
farmer scattering seed. Some seed falls
to the ground, but birds pick it up and carry it off. Other seed falls on shallow soil with underlying
rock. The seed grows, but then dies due to lack of moisture. Other seed falls among thorns, which grow up
with it and choke the plant. Still other
seed falls on fertile soil. And Jesus
explains that soil in this way: “The good soil represents honest, good-hearted
people who hear God’s message, cling to it, and steadily produce a huge
harvest.” (Luke 8:15 NLT)
My Pop, in his marriage, in his
parenting, in his work, and throughout his very ordinary life clung to God’s
word. Like an acorn in fertile soil, my grandfather grew his roots deep, and
when he encountered the toughest battle of his life, he fought graciously. He knew where his roots were planted, and he
relied on the strength of the Lord.
Sitting was something else my Pop
did well. He loved to sit on his front porch and wave at all the neighbors as
they walked by. I think that man was on
a first name basis with everyone in the entire town! And kids loved him! He always had candy in his pocket to share!
There is a story about two sisters
in Luke Chapter 10. One is busy,
distracted, and stressed with the busyness of life. The other sister makes herself comfortable
sitting at Jesus’ feet. The first
sister, frustrated by this, asks Jesus, “Doesn’t it seem unfair that my sister
just sits here while I do all the work?” And then, to her surprise, Jesus responds
with, “There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be
taken away from her.”
The reason Pop was able to make
total strangers feel like family is because he always had time for people. And he always had time for people because he learned
how to make time for Jesus. He sat at
the feet of Jesus for years and years and years. My favorite part of this story is when Jesus
says that this one thing, this one essential thing, will never be taken
away. When I look around at the storms
we are all weathering, some of us bending almost to the point of breaking, it is good to remember our roots.
Just like that circle of oak trees in the park down the road from my house,
Jesus is calling us to sit...
at His feet,
at the base of the hill,
at the foot of the cross,
with our eyes fixed on Him.
I'm pretty sure that is exactly what Pop
is doing this very day.
I wonder what Pop was thinking that
day in his truck. I wonder if he knew
his battle was almost over. I wonder if
he thought about all he was about to leave behind and everything he was about
to inherit. I wonder if he was talking
to the Lord, asking Him to look after Grandma when he was gone. I wonder if he was ever really able to fully grasp
the lasting impact of his faith, which began as a tiny seed at the young age of
21.
I have heard that the process an acorn must endure to
transform into a tree is very risky and only a handful of acorns actually
complete this transformation. Much like
our faith in Christ, choosing to depend on Him is absolutely risky. It doesn’t come without cost. In fact, it costs everything. God created us to live "all in."
In her book, Anything, Jennie Allen describes something that clearly my Pop understood. She says, "Abandonment only makes sense if there is a God worthy of abandoning everything for. The greatest gift in surrender is that in letting go of everything you think will fix you and make you better, you find a person... not a pat answer or a verse or a cause.... you see a person."[1]
In her book, Anything, Jennie Allen describes something that clearly my Pop understood. She says, "Abandonment only makes sense if there is a God worthy of abandoning everything for. The greatest gift in surrender is that in letting go of everything you think will fix you and make you better, you find a person... not a pat answer or a verse or a cause.... you see a person."[1]
That person is Jesus.
Pop did not just know of Jesus; Pop knew Jesus. This relationship changed the way he lived. He talked to him, listened to him, spent time with him, learned from him, walked with him. I'm sure he asked his share of questions and confessed his share of fears. His life affected so many, but we miss the entire story if we walk away from it just talking about a man who lived a great life, who left a legacy for the generations to follow. I know Pop. He wouldn't want us to be down here talking about him. He would much rather us spend our time talking about Jesus, the person in whose footsteps he followed. After all, it was Him who planted that tiny seed all those years ago that grew into something so strong and beautiful.
For
I will plant them there with my own hands in order to bring myself glory. Isaiah
60:21b (NLT)
[1] Jennie Allen, Anything: the prayer that unlocked my God and my soul (Nashville:
Thomas Nelson, 2011), 168.
No comments:
Post a Comment