In a recent devotional, Dena wrote about a devotion she had read by Max Lucado; entitled, "Eternal Instants" Max writes:
An eternal instant. A moment that reminds you of the treasures surrounding you. Your home. Your peace of mind. Your health. A moment that tenderly rebukes you for spending so much time on temporal preoccupations such as savings accounts, houses, and punctuality. A moment that can bring a mist to the manliest of eyes and perspective to the darkest life.
Dena then listed some eternal instances in her life. To read more of this devotional by Max Lucado and Dena's eternal instances, click here. But I started thinking about the eternal instances in my life and created my own list. Here are mine:
1. Getting up at 4 a.m. to watch the sun rise over Lake Michigan.
2. Meeting my mom and dad in St. Paul, Mn. to watch Carson run for approximately 1 minute in the 4 x 4 relay for Westside Track Club.
3. My Dad's prayer at Cody and Elizabeth's wedding.
4. Meeting Mark's parents for the first time when they gave me a 16 oz. bottle of Coke and I didn't think I could drink it all.
5. Going up north to the cottage with Bill and Edie's family every summer.
6. Carissa as Cinderella her senior year of high school.
7. My kids all having a part in Gerri's wedding.
8. Closing Barb in the chicken coop at Grandma Van Wyk's and in my best Wicked Witch of the West voice, telling her she was "in there for ever."
9. Christmas Eve at Grandma and Grandpa VanWyk's house and ham sandwiches.
10. Sunday afternoons at Grandma and Grandpa Brasser's house.
11. Watching Cody play basketball at the state tournament. In fact, having the opportunity to watch that group of boys play basketball.
12. Praying with Dena.
13. Coffee with Monica.
14. Visits with friends.
15. Brenda and I going to Minneapolis a couple years ago to see Barb.
16. Watching Mark play basketball for Northwestern.
17. Popcorn parties on 3rd East of Fern Smith Hall.
18. Family vacation to Colorado in 1974 and 2005.
19. Dale performing the dog chow commercial all the way to Colorado in 1974.
20. Skating, sledding and camping back by the river.
21. Eating my mom's birthday cakes - the chocolate kind and the gooey kind.
22. Summer Birthday parties with Mark's family.
23. Christmas programs.
24. Going to the Upper Penninsula with mom and dad in 1981 (pregnant with Cody at the time).
25. My mom making me a new Christmas dress every year.
26. Sitting in Sunday night church with the other high school girls and laughing so hard the bench shook.
27. Grandma Brasser trying to peek at her Christmas present before it was her turn to open it.
28. Trips to Bay Beach.
29. Cody's laughter as he reads the jokes in the Readers Digest.
30. Cindy's kindergarten stories.
31. Going to Pine Haven Men's Chorus concerts and seeing my dad sing.
32. Calves pulling on Grandma VanWyk's dress as she fed them.
33. Grandma and Grandpa Brasser's beautiful house.
34. Cody telling all the nurses at the hospital about his new baby brother named Carson.
35. Carson running around the hospital room and climbing on everything when Carissa was born (he didn't come back to the hospital).
36. Cheering Elizabeth and Cody at the Chicago marathon.
37. Carissa as a flower girl 4 times.
38. Iowa Football games.
30. Working on my wildflower hillside.
40. Feeling God's presence at my dad's funeral service.
This is just a fraction of the eternal instances God has given me. If you read this, try to make up your own list, in your head or write them down. It's good to remember.
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. (Psalm 51:10)
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
I Wish I Was 10 Again
Around the end of May, I started thinking about Father's Day and appropriate gifts for Mark and our dads. I came up with a perfect gift for Mark and his dad, but I was struggling a bit with what to get my dad. That's when I thought, if only I was 10 again. When I was 10, I could glue some macaroni on a tin can or some glitter on a jar and my dad loved it. When you're grown up, though, those kinds of gifts don't really have the same meaning. But as I worked through this in my mind, I started thinking back to the time when I was ten.
I was 10 in 1965. John F. Kennedy had been assasinated, Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King would be in a few short years. We had yet to see evil in human form as the face of Charles Manson. It was the 60's, unrest, hippies and protests were beginning to dominate the news. But in Sheboygan Falls, that all seemed pretty far away. Summer stretched endlessly before us, each day a sunny day spent in play and fun. Riding my bike to swimming lessons as semi trucks whizzed by me on the highway. Of course without a helmet. Occasionally a summer storm would come through and we would scurry into our homes and I would watch it from the back door until the sun came back out giving the world a sparkle. I don't know if it was the summer of "65, but there was the summer day when our neighbor cat birthed her kittens under the slide connected to our swing set. I can see my mom hanging clothes out on the line and stopping to talk with Nellie VanderWeele, our neighbor lady. We watched for my dad to come home from work at Richardson Brothers furniture factory. Everyday he was picked up by Tres Bloemers who picked up several others who all worked in the same factory. Carpooling before anyone had even heard of carpooling. He would get dropped off at the end of our driveway covered in a thin layer of dust, carrying his lunch bucket. I believe he had nearly the same lunch every day. Sometimes my dad had picked up a candy bar for us on his way out of work and what a special treat that was. After work there was yard work to be done and picking in the garden whatever was currently ripe. Summer nights were filled with a hot steamy kitchen and the sound of the pressure cooker as my mom canned green beans. We picked the strawberries and my dad always reminded us to "pick them clean." I can still hear him telling me that whenever I do any sort of garden work. Towards the end of summer, mom would go out to Grandma Brasser where they had a big apple tree and make applesauce. You can't use just any kind of apple for the applesauce, it must be transparency apples. Those are still the apples I use now when I make applesauce.
1965 was the first year Cinderella was shown with Lesley Anne Warren and it became an annual tradition for me to watch every year. I loved Lesley Anne Warren and thought it was so awesome that she and the prince rode horses when they were married. Tuesday nights were special because we could stay up until 9 because Petticoat Junction didn't start until 8:30. I thought Audra from the Big Valley had a wonderful life. All those brothers saving the ranch and their town from all sorts of mischief makers while Audra stayed home wearing beautiful gowns and worried about her brothers. Saturday night was a big night. Quite often my mom would make popcorn and we would each have a glass of RC Cola. Lawrence Welk was the highlight and my mom would always ask one of us to run and get her glasses on the dresser in her bedroom so she could see better. The Lennon Sisters and Bobby and his current dancing partners were the acts I enjoyed the most. Then at 9, it was time for Gunsmoke, my dad's favorite show. But by that time, the spoolies were in my hair and tightly wrapped, bath taken and it was time for bed because there was church in the morning. My mom slept with rollers in her hair and I'm not sure if your head got incredibly hard and you no longer felt them or anything for that matter on your head or what happened that you could sleep with those things in your hair, but she did.
Every September was the Miss America pageant, which was "must-see TV" in our house and 1965 was the year Vonda Kay VanDyke won the crown. Bert Parks was the emcee and he asked her if she carried her Bible as a "good luck charm." She told him her Bible was most certainly not a good luck charm and went on to profess her faith. And she became Miss America. How sad that now a young woman professes her belief and she is ridiculed and ultimately loses her crown.
Thinking about being 10 again is a wistful feeling. I had all four grandparents who loved us and were very involved in our lives. Death had not touched my world at all yet. We had a neighborhood full of kids to do kid stuff with. It amost seems an idyllic sort of life and it's good to look back and appreciate the blessings that went along with being 10.
I was 10 in 1965. John F. Kennedy had been assasinated, Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King would be in a few short years. We had yet to see evil in human form as the face of Charles Manson. It was the 60's, unrest, hippies and protests were beginning to dominate the news. But in Sheboygan Falls, that all seemed pretty far away. Summer stretched endlessly before us, each day a sunny day spent in play and fun. Riding my bike to swimming lessons as semi trucks whizzed by me on the highway. Of course without a helmet. Occasionally a summer storm would come through and we would scurry into our homes and I would watch it from the back door until the sun came back out giving the world a sparkle. I don't know if it was the summer of "65, but there was the summer day when our neighbor cat birthed her kittens under the slide connected to our swing set. I can see my mom hanging clothes out on the line and stopping to talk with Nellie VanderWeele, our neighbor lady. We watched for my dad to come home from work at Richardson Brothers furniture factory. Everyday he was picked up by Tres Bloemers who picked up several others who all worked in the same factory. Carpooling before anyone had even heard of carpooling. He would get dropped off at the end of our driveway covered in a thin layer of dust, carrying his lunch bucket. I believe he had nearly the same lunch every day. Sometimes my dad had picked up a candy bar for us on his way out of work and what a special treat that was. After work there was yard work to be done and picking in the garden whatever was currently ripe. Summer nights were filled with a hot steamy kitchen and the sound of the pressure cooker as my mom canned green beans. We picked the strawberries and my dad always reminded us to "pick them clean." I can still hear him telling me that whenever I do any sort of garden work. Towards the end of summer, mom would go out to Grandma Brasser where they had a big apple tree and make applesauce. You can't use just any kind of apple for the applesauce, it must be transparency apples. Those are still the apples I use now when I make applesauce.
1965 was the first year Cinderella was shown with Lesley Anne Warren and it became an annual tradition for me to watch every year. I loved Lesley Anne Warren and thought it was so awesome that she and the prince rode horses when they were married. Tuesday nights were special because we could stay up until 9 because Petticoat Junction didn't start until 8:30. I thought Audra from the Big Valley had a wonderful life. All those brothers saving the ranch and their town from all sorts of mischief makers while Audra stayed home wearing beautiful gowns and worried about her brothers. Saturday night was a big night. Quite often my mom would make popcorn and we would each have a glass of RC Cola. Lawrence Welk was the highlight and my mom would always ask one of us to run and get her glasses on the dresser in her bedroom so she could see better. The Lennon Sisters and Bobby and his current dancing partners were the acts I enjoyed the most. Then at 9, it was time for Gunsmoke, my dad's favorite show. But by that time, the spoolies were in my hair and tightly wrapped, bath taken and it was time for bed because there was church in the morning. My mom slept with rollers in her hair and I'm not sure if your head got incredibly hard and you no longer felt them or anything for that matter on your head or what happened that you could sleep with those things in your hair, but she did.
Every September was the Miss America pageant, which was "must-see TV" in our house and 1965 was the year Vonda Kay VanDyke won the crown. Bert Parks was the emcee and he asked her if she carried her Bible as a "good luck charm." She told him her Bible was most certainly not a good luck charm and went on to profess her faith. And she became Miss America. How sad that now a young woman professes her belief and she is ridiculed and ultimately loses her crown.
Thinking about being 10 again is a wistful feeling. I had all four grandparents who loved us and were very involved in our lives. Death had not touched my world at all yet. We had a neighborhood full of kids to do kid stuff with. It amost seems an idyllic sort of life and it's good to look back and appreciate the blessings that went along with being 10.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tribute to my Dad
On July 1, 2009, my dad left his earthly home and entered into his eternal home. On July 6, 2009, I gave this tribute as part of my dad's service.
About a week and a half ago, a friend asked me what was the best gift my dad ever gave me, and I asked do you mean like something I could hold in my hand, something tangible? And she said yes. The first thought that popped into my head was a toboggan dad and mom gave my brothers and me one Christmas. We tripped over it all night checking the time in anticipation of Christmas morning and what delight when we saw it. We would haul that toboggan back by the river or to the hill by the campfire girl house, load it with about 4 or 5 kids and fly down the hill, as I recall after all these years, at about the speed of light.
That toboggan brought us a lot of fun, but the very, very best gift my dad gave me isn’t something I can hold in my hand. Psalm 145 verse 4 says “Parents will tell their children what you have done. They will retell your mighty acts.” Growing up with my dad, I learned what it means to live life well. My dad showed me how to be a servant. He taught me how it looks to serve your family and friends. He showed me how you honor your parents, siblings, in-laws, spouse and children. I saw a man who was truly the spiritual head of the household. He also taught me the importance of serving the people God puts in our lives. And while we don’t always want to serve; it is through that service I learned about obedience.
Dad taught me about relationships. When Grandma Van Wyk was still with us, he loved to stop by her house on a Saturday morning and just sit and visit. In more recent years, he has done the same with Nicki. A piece of cake and a cup of coffee make the visit even sweeter. I recall visiting my Grandma and Grandpa Brasser on Sunday afternoons. Dad and Grandpa would stand and talk as they pushed us on the swing.
He was so honored and humbled when Mike Buehler asked if they could meet together. He didn’t think he had much to offer; I think we know he did. I could try to name the people he enjoyed spending time with, but I run the risk of omitting someone. You know who you are and spending time with you, going out to eat, playing games or just visiting were things that gave him joy.
My kids always told me whenever they went anywhere with Grandma and Grandpa, they always came across someone they knew and had to stop and talk for a while. Whenever mom and dad went to an event, they were always the last ones to leave, still visiting, as the lights were turned out and the person in charge waited for them before locking the door.
He took such pride in the courage of his parents leaving their home in Holland and beginning a new life in the United States, learning a new language and bringing up their family in a whole new world. He loved my mom and their 55-year marriage is a testament to love, perseverance and honor.
He taught me about faith. Today my heart is so heavy and sometimes a wave of sadness washes over me and I have to stop and say “Breathe, Linda, just breathe.” But under and through that sadness is a fountain, it’s a fountain that bubbles cool, refreshing, living water. I can feel the peace that passes all understanding. This fountain gives me joy despite my sadness and reassures me that my dad is in a place that is more real than anything we think is real. I believe it is more real than the feel of the church bench on your back, more real than the feel of the ground under your feet. I believe what my dad sees is more beautiful, more brilliant than anything we can imagine.
The first weekend my dad became sick, I got up Saturday morning and in my dad’s garden were the most beautiful, brilliant orange lilies in front of absolutely stunning purple irises. When compared to the colors my dad is seeing now, I believe these flowers would look pale and anemic. My dad loved nature, the world God has created. I believe that while God created a stunningly beautiful earth, it pales in comparison to the beauty of heaven.
My dad loved music. It was a joy for him to sing with the Pine Haven Chorus, he loved listening to Barb play the piano, going to musicals and musical programs. I believe the music my dad hears now from the heavenly choir is of such clarity and perfect pitch that we cannot even imagine.
Rev. 7 verse 16 tells us we will never be hungry again, and will never be thirsty again, yet in Matthew 8:11 we learn that "Many people will come from the east and from the west and will sit and eat with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven." And in Luke 22:29-30 it is written that "Just as my Father has given me a kingdom, I also give you a kingdom so you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom. I’ve had some pretty good meals over the years, but I believe in heaven there is a banquet the likes of which we have not tasted.
2 Peter 1 verse 11 says "And you will be given a very great welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." I believe as my dad reached heaven’s gates he was welcomed by his parents, my mom’s parents, Uncle Calvin, Aunt Edie and a host of others who have passed on before him. I believe my dad saw something we were not able to see on earth – the sight of Zachary running to greet him with open arms and laughter bubbling from his lips. I believe someone, perhaps one of my grandmothers, placed Ryan in my dad’s arms, a strong, happy, healthy baby who knows that his grandpa has joined him.
But best of all, I believe my dad is in the very presence of the God he has served so faithfully and God says to him "you have fought a good fight, you have finished the race, and you have remained faithful. And now the prize awaits you – the crown of righteousness."
Living life well means accepting the challenges God gives you, trusting Him to help you perform them as well as possible and when you can no longer carry them, you look behind you and there are people there who say “Pass them here, I will take them from you now.” I see in our family a willingness, yes even the desire, to take those tasks from dad and carry them forward. When it was time to take dad out of the hospital, my mom made the decision to care for him at home. I saw her love for him as day by day he slipped away from us. I see Jeff helping Nicki keep her lawnmower in shape. Jeff, Garrett, Noah and Dale taking care of dad’s yard. Cody and Elizabeth driving 10 hours to be at the hospital for less than a day to help interpret “doctor talk” and spend time with my dad massaging and soothing him. The day we brought my dad back to his house, I mentioned to the rest of the family that the flower beds were a bit weedy. The thistles out there were particularly irritating to me. Shortly afterwards, I look out and see Carson out in the flower bed with the thistle sticker, pretty soon Shari joins him, then Mark, Dale, Carissa, even Noah and Brianna are all out there cleaning up the flower bed. Shari brings our meal one night and Nancy brings a meal another night. Then right after we’re finished eating there goes Jeff to clean up the sump pump. I don’t even want to know what’s involved with cleaning up a sump pump. When I came back to Iowa last Tuesday, Carissa gave me the gift of her time so there was someone in the car with me. Katie and Garrett took time out of their day to watch Brianna as a munchkin in the Sheboygan Falls Elementary School production of “The Wizard of Oz.” Yes, dad has taught all of us about service, relationships and faith.
What an honor, what a privilege that God chose this man to be my dad. And now I have to wonder ... how does a girl live without her dad? I’m not sure, I’ve never had to do this before. My heart spills over with gratitude of how my dad was an example of living life well. And now…. dad can look behind him and see hands ready to take from him the work he has been so faithful to perform. Praise God for the life of my dad. Praise God.
About a week and a half ago, a friend asked me what was the best gift my dad ever gave me, and I asked do you mean like something I could hold in my hand, something tangible? And she said yes. The first thought that popped into my head was a toboggan dad and mom gave my brothers and me one Christmas. We tripped over it all night checking the time in anticipation of Christmas morning and what delight when we saw it. We would haul that toboggan back by the river or to the hill by the campfire girl house, load it with about 4 or 5 kids and fly down the hill, as I recall after all these years, at about the speed of light.
That toboggan brought us a lot of fun, but the very, very best gift my dad gave me isn’t something I can hold in my hand. Psalm 145 verse 4 says “Parents will tell their children what you have done. They will retell your mighty acts.” Growing up with my dad, I learned what it means to live life well. My dad showed me how to be a servant. He taught me how it looks to serve your family and friends. He showed me how you honor your parents, siblings, in-laws, spouse and children. I saw a man who was truly the spiritual head of the household. He also taught me the importance of serving the people God puts in our lives. And while we don’t always want to serve; it is through that service I learned about obedience.
Dad taught me about relationships. When Grandma Van Wyk was still with us, he loved to stop by her house on a Saturday morning and just sit and visit. In more recent years, he has done the same with Nicki. A piece of cake and a cup of coffee make the visit even sweeter. I recall visiting my Grandma and Grandpa Brasser on Sunday afternoons. Dad and Grandpa would stand and talk as they pushed us on the swing.
He was so honored and humbled when Mike Buehler asked if they could meet together. He didn’t think he had much to offer; I think we know he did. I could try to name the people he enjoyed spending time with, but I run the risk of omitting someone. You know who you are and spending time with you, going out to eat, playing games or just visiting were things that gave him joy.
My kids always told me whenever they went anywhere with Grandma and Grandpa, they always came across someone they knew and had to stop and talk for a while. Whenever mom and dad went to an event, they were always the last ones to leave, still visiting, as the lights were turned out and the person in charge waited for them before locking the door.
He took such pride in the courage of his parents leaving their home in Holland and beginning a new life in the United States, learning a new language and bringing up their family in a whole new world. He loved my mom and their 55-year marriage is a testament to love, perseverance and honor.
He taught me about faith. Today my heart is so heavy and sometimes a wave of sadness washes over me and I have to stop and say “Breathe, Linda, just breathe.” But under and through that sadness is a fountain, it’s a fountain that bubbles cool, refreshing, living water. I can feel the peace that passes all understanding. This fountain gives me joy despite my sadness and reassures me that my dad is in a place that is more real than anything we think is real. I believe it is more real than the feel of the church bench on your back, more real than the feel of the ground under your feet. I believe what my dad sees is more beautiful, more brilliant than anything we can imagine.
The first weekend my dad became sick, I got up Saturday morning and in my dad’s garden were the most beautiful, brilliant orange lilies in front of absolutely stunning purple irises. When compared to the colors my dad is seeing now, I believe these flowers would look pale and anemic. My dad loved nature, the world God has created. I believe that while God created a stunningly beautiful earth, it pales in comparison to the beauty of heaven.
My dad loved music. It was a joy for him to sing with the Pine Haven Chorus, he loved listening to Barb play the piano, going to musicals and musical programs. I believe the music my dad hears now from the heavenly choir is of such clarity and perfect pitch that we cannot even imagine.
Rev. 7 verse 16 tells us we will never be hungry again, and will never be thirsty again, yet in Matthew 8:11 we learn that "Many people will come from the east and from the west and will sit and eat with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven." And in Luke 22:29-30 it is written that "Just as my Father has given me a kingdom, I also give you a kingdom so you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom. I’ve had some pretty good meals over the years, but I believe in heaven there is a banquet the likes of which we have not tasted.
2 Peter 1 verse 11 says "And you will be given a very great welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." I believe as my dad reached heaven’s gates he was welcomed by his parents, my mom’s parents, Uncle Calvin, Aunt Edie and a host of others who have passed on before him. I believe my dad saw something we were not able to see on earth – the sight of Zachary running to greet him with open arms and laughter bubbling from his lips. I believe someone, perhaps one of my grandmothers, placed Ryan in my dad’s arms, a strong, happy, healthy baby who knows that his grandpa has joined him.
But best of all, I believe my dad is in the very presence of the God he has served so faithfully and God says to him "you have fought a good fight, you have finished the race, and you have remained faithful. And now the prize awaits you – the crown of righteousness."
Living life well means accepting the challenges God gives you, trusting Him to help you perform them as well as possible and when you can no longer carry them, you look behind you and there are people there who say “Pass them here, I will take them from you now.” I see in our family a willingness, yes even the desire, to take those tasks from dad and carry them forward. When it was time to take dad out of the hospital, my mom made the decision to care for him at home. I saw her love for him as day by day he slipped away from us. I see Jeff helping Nicki keep her lawnmower in shape. Jeff, Garrett, Noah and Dale taking care of dad’s yard. Cody and Elizabeth driving 10 hours to be at the hospital for less than a day to help interpret “doctor talk” and spend time with my dad massaging and soothing him. The day we brought my dad back to his house, I mentioned to the rest of the family that the flower beds were a bit weedy. The thistles out there were particularly irritating to me. Shortly afterwards, I look out and see Carson out in the flower bed with the thistle sticker, pretty soon Shari joins him, then Mark, Dale, Carissa, even Noah and Brianna are all out there cleaning up the flower bed. Shari brings our meal one night and Nancy brings a meal another night. Then right after we’re finished eating there goes Jeff to clean up the sump pump. I don’t even want to know what’s involved with cleaning up a sump pump. When I came back to Iowa last Tuesday, Carissa gave me the gift of her time so there was someone in the car with me. Katie and Garrett took time out of their day to watch Brianna as a munchkin in the Sheboygan Falls Elementary School production of “The Wizard of Oz.” Yes, dad has taught all of us about service, relationships and faith.
What an honor, what a privilege that God chose this man to be my dad. And now I have to wonder ... how does a girl live without her dad? I’m not sure, I’ve never had to do this before. My heart spills over with gratitude of how my dad was an example of living life well. And now…. dad can look behind him and see hands ready to take from him the work he has been so faithful to perform. Praise God for the life of my dad. Praise God.
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