Hi Sweet Friends,
I remember often reading and hearing about the phenomenon of being sandwiched between the needs of children/grandchildren and parents. I brushed it off, thankful that I wasn’t in that phase of life. And even so, I planned to arrange the situation to work well for me. You know, manipulate and control the circumstances to manageable tasks where everyone is happy and does the right thing. As I suggested in last month’s blog, I tend toward fantasy instead of reality. Well, this is the phase of life in which I now find myself, and I don’t see much controlling going on. We have been supremely blessed with four grandchildren with three more to be born before the end of the year. None of our four children live in town, so loving well means lots of road time for everyone. The baby world is my favorite world. I just feel like rocking a sleeping baby is the closest thing to heaven that I may experience here. I want to do it full-time, around the clock. A sleeping baby is never telling you that you need to be working harder and doing more. That happens when they wake up. For a few short moments, it’s simply bliss. And while that world is going on, my mom is living in a 93-year-old body and brain that are failing her. She is becoming more needy and child-like, but it doesn’t look or feel the same on an adult. I am beyond grateful that my mom has done so well, but we all know what the next phase is. It will get worse before it gets better. It’s hard to watch. It’s hard to know what to do. I ask God to let me see her through His eyes, how precious she is to Him, her worth and value. I long to contentedly join Him in His invitation to be part of His provision for her. Sometimes I see it. Sometimes I don’t. But this I know, if I view my mom’s world as blocking me from the joy of the baby world I want to live in, I’m missing the heart of God. Both worlds are necessary, and both worlds are gifts. How does God want me to navigate and steward such gifts?
One of my earliest childhood and church memories is of my Sunday School teacher, Jewel Harbor. I would have been three or four when she came to me at church with a little stained glass craft they had made in class that I missed because I was sick. How kind and gracious. So much so, that it is vivid in my mind 60 years later. Jewel was in all of my church memories until we moved to Kentucky when I was nine. She was my dad’s first cousin, so I saw her at family reunions and home comings throughout my life. She served faithfully in probably every position at the same church her whole life. She picked up my grandmother, Aunt Stella to her, for church for probably fifteen years, the last several from a nursing home. My last memory of her is at my childhood church where we were honoring my grandmother’s 100th birthday. I was in my 40s and was there with my family and a church full of relatives and well-wishers. I spied Jewel from across the room, dish towel tossed over her shoulder, wiping off tables for the next batch of eaters. She would have been close to 80-years-old, I assume. Her whole lifetime, serving quietly where needed, no thought of recognition or applause, just showing up, loving others more than herself, expressing the life of Christ in her.
When I see someone cleaning up or selflessly serving, I think of Jewel. But I have many other beautiful examples of heroes of the faith to admire. I have sweet friends also living as the marshmallow between the graham crackers of children and parents in the smores of life. I’ve watched my widowed friends reach so far outside of themselves to love and serve others while battling grief, loneliness, and questions. I’ve stumbled on a sweet friend coming early to Celebrate Recovery to pray for all that would transpire in those walls that evening. I’ve seen friends teach children, fill and empty our rubber tub for baptism, provide rides, make coffee, cook endlessly, and love selflessly with no need for notice or applause.
My children have all married into families of servants that might as well be kings and queens in the only mind that matters. One set has cared for a severely disabled son while giving their other sons what they only remember as a golden childhood. The adoration and worth placed on the helpless little brother has affected the value they place on humanity as a whole as they grew to be doctors and teachers and servants at their churches. Watching selflessness and love lavished on this beloved brother carved the name of Jesus on their hearts and minds forever. Their parents continue to serve selflessly as hosts of Bible studies and parties in their home, teachers and servants at church, and as the most selfless and generous people I have ever known. Heroes steeped in service. They always go together. Another set of in-laws selflessly cared for a developmentally disabled adult older brother and sister after the passing of their parents. At my son and daughter-in-law’s wedding, I watched in awe as I saw the beloved aunt and uncle be so included, so valued, so necessary to the family. My in-law’s children grew up in the crucible of valuing and loving the gift of the existence of their cherished aunt and uncle who were a bridesmaid and honored guest at the wedding. All of the extra care that their presence required wasn’t considered too much. Their absence would have been a great loss. Don’t miss the fact that someone had to care for Aunt Ann and Uncle Joe as if they were children. Someone was stewarding a responsibility. It is an honor to watch such selflessness, such agreement with God of the value of those made in His image. They recently escorted Aunt Ann to the National Southern Baptist Convention as a member of her church’s choir performance. They showed me a video. There was Ann on the front row, animated and unembarrassed to sing her praise and give her offering as a worshiper. We might applaud the choir for their kindness to include Ann, and we would be right to do so. But the greatest gift is the kindness of God in gifting Ann to the choir. 1 Corinthians 12:22 reminds us that the parts of the body that seem weakest are indispensable. They are necessary for the growth and the health of ourselves and of the church. What an honor to be the recipient and steward of such a gift and kindness of God.
I have a precious son-in-law reared much of his life by an older sister and husband after his parents died when he was a child. They lovingly cared for him and his sister as if they were their parents. They dedicated their lives to their well-being while rearing children of their own, giving them opportunity, security, stability, and love. It’s something so much beyond duty. It’s a selflessness that would be shocked to hear of having it any other way. They invested kindness and humility into the heart of a little boy acquainted with loss and grief that grew to be my daughter’s husband and the expectant father of my granddaughter. In the presence of pain grew a beautiful life watered by selflessness that will affect the future generations born to such a heritage. And what about my in-laws that have faithfully served humanity through teaching, churching, neighboring, parenting, grandparenting, working, and friending that was interrupted by cancer and other hard diagnoses? What do you do with such news and grueling pain that lingers even in healing? I can tell you what they have done. They have continued doing all of those things. On good days and bad, they show up to love, babysit, and make memories. They’ve retired in a location to try to be available to kids and grandkids and provide a fun place for them to come to. They’ve invested well. The returns will be eternal.
And these are the people with whom my grandchildren share life. This is their heritage: families that stayed together, that did and still do the hard things to love well. Ordinary things. Daily things. Miracles. Selflessness is always a miracle.
There is a quote from the movie Green and Gold that I instantly loved when I saw the movie. It’s about grandparents on a farm trying to do things the old-fashioned way to faithfully steward the earth for the next generations. They’re losing money. It’s hard. Not everyone understands. The granddaughter wants out but slowly begins to see the preciousness of the responsibility of stewardship. She sees the worth of the mundane, the hard, the daily, just mucking the next stall and looking into the face of a cow with reverence and appreciation of the gift. From the movie:
“I’m convinced the world’s maintained by the quiet work of unnoticed, faithful people who choose to do the right thing. I think the world’s full of ‘em. But the right thing mostly never makes a lot of money or wins the trophy. In real life, miracles don’t always arrive on time. The good guy doesn’t always win. And you don’t always get to keep your farm. And that’s okay.”
The Bible says it even better in Micah 6:8 when it says, “He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” When Jesus was asked what the greatest commandment in the law is, He replied in Matthew 22:37 that the first is to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind. The second is to love our neighbor as ourselves. It’s simple, but not easy. Selflessness never is. We’re given so many beautiful examples in scripture of love, service, and sacrifice; but there is just so much more that we don’t even know about. John 21:25 tells us if they were all recorded, the world couldn’t contain the books. Every day is an opportunity and invitation for us to join God in the mundane and the miracles. Ask for eyes to see His kindness in blessing us with both. Jesus washed the feet and raised the dead. Equally important. Equally acts of obedience for the glory of God. I see such offering in our church body. Our church doesn’t have a salary budget. Our church runs on selflessness and the grace of God. In both, we are ridiculously wealthy.
After 9-11, Fred Rogers made a video message to try to calm the fears of children. He told them to look for the helpers. I would encourage us in the same way but with an eternal twist. If you want to find Jesus, look for the servants. Notice the ones always showing up needing no attention or applause. Jesus will always be in their midst. And as you begin to notice the humble service of such Jesus lovers, I encourage you in the way that Jesus encouraged His disciples when He told them, “Go and do likewise.” And I joyfully bequeath to you the Jewel Harbor medal of service award. Go and do likewise.
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