Super Hero

My grandpa, David Van Allen, passed away on January 5, 2013.  He was 92 years old and left behind his wife, Josephine of 70 years and his only daughter, my mom.  We honored him and celebrated his life today at a small memorial service near my parents' home.  He will be missed by all of us, but we know that he is dancing with Jesus today.

 

 As a child, my Pop was a super hero to me.  Indestructible, invincible, the one who showed up each week with a bag of powdered sugar doughnuts, the one who seemed to never run out of time to play or answer questions that began with “why…”  He was my very first student, when I made a career choice to be a teacher at the age of five.  Sitting with all of my stuffed animals, he always finished his work and followed my directions.  He taught me things like how to float in the swimming pool, and how to play the organ.  He was there when I cried after getting the chicken pox vaccine.  He always believed that I could conquer my fear of needles.  He took me on nature walks and treated life as a gift.  He was a playful grandpa, an adventurous grandpa, and a loving grandpa.

 

 As an adult, I started to see my Pop not only as a grandpa, but as a father and as a husband, too.  When I had kids of my own, I realized that he was once somebody’s little boy.  He really wasn’t this indestructible super-hero; he was human.  Human, not invincible.  Human, not perfect.  Human, just like me.  Instead of sugary treats in a bag, I started for looking for things in him that would leave me with more than a full tummy and lots of crumbs.  I was after bigger things.  Things like why he loved to sing hymns about a mighty and loving God.  Things like what does forgiveness look like and how does it really heal a relationship. Things like what gave him hope to embrace each new day that was given to him.

 

I spoke with Pop for the last time on Christmas Eve and now I know that that time was a gift from God.  He didn’t talk about the pain he was in, even though I could tell he was hurting.  In fact, I’m not even sure he knew I was his granddaughter.  But there was One person he never lost sight of- even when his mind began to fade.  As I crouched down beside him in his chair, I told him I was praying for him.  With tears in his eyes, he thanked me and then began to tell me about his God.  He told me that he talked to God all day and all night long.  He told me that God had never once failed him.  He told me how much he loved the Lord and even though it seemed to him that God was being silent, he knew that He was listening.  He told me that he loved the Lord in spite of the pain he felt.  He said, in fact, that he loved Him all the more.  When Pop didn’t know anyone else, He knew that God was with him.  Because God had always been with him.  In the last days of his life, it was the presence of God that brought him peace and comfort.  And as all of us who loved Pop remember him today, we can praise the same God who he is sitting beside right now. 

I read Psalm 146 after I heard that my Pop had gone home to be with Jesus.  It seemed appropriate because to me, what my Pop left me with is a desire to praise God in everything and to hold on to the truth that He will never ever leave or forsake me.

Praise the Lord.  Praise the Lord, my soul.  I will praise the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.  Psalm 146:1-2

 

Looking back on my time with Pop, I realize now that what I fell in love with as a little girl was not super powers inside a super-hero.  What captured my heart as a little girl was the power of the Jesus living inside of Pop.  2 Corinthians 4:7 says, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”  I fell in love with Jesus who lived inside my Pop.  Because that’s what Jesus does… he takes an ordinary life and makes it extraordinary.  He takes a regular man with faults and flaws,and He turns him into a super-hero in the eyes of a little girl. 

Pegs

There is something so exhilarating about coming to the end of one thing with anticipation for the beginning of the next.  Today is a day to look back and also a day to look forward.  

Looking back on 2012, I realize that what has brought me the most joy has been the relationships in my life.  I’ve loved watching my kids enter new stages and witnessing their relationships with each other and with relatives grow over the past 12 months. I’ve seen huge strides in my marriage as we work together (and settle plenty of disagreements) fumbling our way through this thing called “parenting.”  I’ve been grateful for new friendships while I cherish the old ones.   

I’ve been tickled every time I get a letter in the mail from our sponsored child in Africa.  Getting to know him over the past year has been such a blessing.  I’ve been humbled as God has given me the opportunity to meet the needs of people who are just strangers to me but children of God’s. There have also been relationships that have caused pain, yet are being healed through forgiveness. 

Most of all, I am so grateful for the peace that God has given me in 2012.  Peace that comes as I walk closer and closer to Him.  Peace that fills in the gaps that come with waiting on Him.  Peace that I do not need to be anyone but His.

Last year, like every other year, I made a list of resolutions for 2012.  Looking back over that list today, I realized that I can only check off a few of them.  Some I found hilarious, like the one that said: I will change the lever-style handle on the pantry door to keep my toddlers out and my sanity intact. (Just last night Jake turned that same knob… yep, the one I changed in January… and helped himself to some jelly beans!)

Some on the list are good goals to keep in mind all the time, like exercise and choices regarding my diet and health.   But over half of them involved working on some kind of relationship…. My children, my husband, my family, my neighbors, my friends, and yes, even strangers.

Looking ahead to 2013, a new year with lots and lots of blank pages, I decided to take a new approach to the whole “resolutions” thing.  Exactly a year from now, I hope and pray that those relationships I’m thankful for today will grow even more in the next year.  I was reading in Matthew this morning out of The Message translation, and I realized that I do not need a To-Do List for 2013.  Matthew 22:37-40 makes it pretty simple:

Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.”

Earlier this month, Jake and Lilly helped paint some clothespins for an art wall in the corner of their playroom.  With two kids bringing home artwork weekly, the fridge was quickly becoming overcrowded with glitter paint, pom-poms and cut-outs.   

So with a couple of hooks and a long piece of string, we made our own artwork display.  As I read this verse in Matthew, I thought about those painted clothespins.  I thought about how those tiny wooden pegs are the only things holding up their precious art. 

In my own life, I know that the only display of beauty I could ever hope for in 2013 must hang from those two commands that Jesus talked about… Loving God and loving others.  Nothing else really matters.  Without those two pegs, everything else would fall.  Nothing will hold up on the clothesline of life without LOVE.  Without my dedication to grow in my relationship with God and in the relationships with those around me, my list of resolutions is only a bunch of empty good intentions.

 

After walking into my kids’ playroom and getting an instant visual of what Jesus was saying, I looked up the word hang.  The Greek word used in this verse is kremannymi.  It’s the same word used of one hanging on a cross.  Through that one little word, God reminded me that the only way I am able to even attempt to follow these two commands is through Jesus and what He did when He hung on a cross for me.  Because of His sacrifice, I can have a relationship with God that is real and thriving.  Because Jesus lives inside me, I can love the people in my life who don’t always love me back.  The command to love just goes back to how great God’s love is for us that He would come to this place just to save us.

So, with a freeing sense of priorities aligned, and an overwhelming desire to love a God who loves me just as I am, I’m committing to keep this verse as my focus for 2013 and for the year after that and the year after that and the year after that.

Our 2012...

 

 

Happy 2013!!