Generational Family

When I was growing up, my grandmother lived with my aunt and uncle and their 3 children. My aunt and uncle spent a great many weekends at their cottage on Lake Huron. Often, they either invited me to go up with them, or my grandmother came to our house and stayed with us. I loved being part of generational family life.



When our youngest child was starting school my husband and I built our home on part of my fathers 70 acre farm. Right next door to us was my sister and her husband and their three daughters. Our children loved playing together and took pride in being part of a generational family. There was always a tree to climb together, a creek to wade in, and between ballgames and Barbies, there were a few feuds. But more importantly a bond was made. When the weekend came the brood would ride their bikes to grandma and grampa's to play in the barn, or to help grampa do chores. No visit was complete without sitting down to eat in the big farm kitchen and playing a game of cards with grandma.

In the blink of an eye our children grew up. Now there were grandbabies running out in the yard between our two houses. A new bond was building.

Now that I've moved, the extended family hardly gets together anymore. It's sad to lose that connection.
I want our family heritage to continue and I think it is important for generations to learn from each other.

I know how important my grandmother was to me. Even with having wonderful parents, she added so much to my life, and that is something I hope to keep doing so my grandsons get a true sense of generational family.



Having said that, I must confess that as much as I loved watching my 3 grandsons play football this fall, I am excited because the season is over and that means I can stay in my pj's until 6 p.m. tonight if I choose. No time crunch, no coordinating schedules, no logging on to mapquest for directions to the game.

I have some me time this weekend.

But with football practice over that means the boys won't be coming to my house after school anymore. And while that means my grocery bill will drop 75%, it also means the house will get pretty quiet once again.

I need my family around. I need the feeling of being connected to generations of love.
There's nothing I like better than to sit down to dinner with my three, rambunctious, grand boys. I love hearing them take turns praying before the meals. I love listening to their school stories, and it's interesting to see the way they are better able to resolve conflict as they mature.

I like the generational family we have become, they need me, and boy do I need them.

In the bible God tells his children how important he thinks it is to pass on what they have learned. Not only is it important to pass on stories of the generations that came before us so we have a sense of who we are and where we came from, but it is important for our families to learn about God and tesify of the small miracles that he shows us each day.

Be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them. Deuteronomy 4:9

I want to pass on our heritage, and pass on the faith that I learned from my grandmother and my mother and father, and I want to make sure that my grandsons know their heritage and our faith so well, and love it so deeply that their hearts desire will be to pass it on to their own generational families. For who knows but that I have come into the kingdom for such a time as this

Gentle Reminders

Today as I was surfing some blogs I came across a comment from a woman who lost her husband suddenly in 2007. She commented that she didn't believe in a God who answers prayers. It broke my heart to read her comments. The hopeless tone of her comment reminded me of myself 15 years ago.



Two weeks ago I posted on my other blog about giving a last minute teaching at a scripture service at church, and how I had trouble coming up with something to say. As I tried to recall everything I learned at the "She Speaks Conference" the only thing I could remember was to "be real" The Gospel I was to teach on was Luke 12:1-4; the one where Jesus teaches his disciples to pray. After praying about it I finally decided to tell my story of praying the Lord's prayer and what happened as a result.



In leiu of the comment left on the blog today I decided to post part of my talk.

15 years ago I was at work when I recieved a call from
my friend and co-worker Yvonne. She was calling to tell me she
was on her way to the office to pick me up. She told me that my
husband had been in an accident.

When I first heard the words I wasn’t
too concerned. Ed had been several fender benders
through the years. But when she told me they were airlifting him
to the hospital, my knees went weak.

As I waited for her to get to the office I began calling my
family. I called my son at home, no answer, I called his work; no he
wasn’t there either, but they promised to send him right to the hospital if he came in. There was no one at home when I tried my father-in-law, and the same for my
daughter. When I phoned her boyfriends house I was
told they were out Christmas shopping. This all occured before anyone
carried cell phones, so the chance of finding someone who was out and
about was very slim. Next on my list was my sister and when
there was no answer I tried my dad. Again, no answer. I
felt panicky.

When I heard the bell in the front of the office I knew it was Yvonne and I
ran to the door. "What happened?" I asked as I opened the
car door. Gently she told me that my husband had gone through a
red light and his car had been struck by a semi-truck.

As I got into her car and we started driving, my panicked voice
shouted at her "We have to pray -Yvonne pray with
me." Simultaneously we both began to say the
Lords Prayer. Even though we could say the prayer in our sleep, after
three or four times of repeating the prayer the memorized words were
becoming difficult to get out and I remember grabbing my knees
and rocking my torso and saying Please don’t let him die God. Don’t you
dare let him die.

Well I think you all know that my prayer didn’t get answered in the way I
wanted that day, and the truth is, my husband was dead before I ever even
started to pray, however God did give me what I needed that day.

After arriving at the hospital they ushered me into a room and I
waited. As I paced back and forth I spotted a phone, but the only number I
could remember was my sisters. I was certain that if I could get her she
could continue trying to find my kids. But still there was no answer. I
went back to pacing.

A few minutes later they came and told me how sorry they were but my
husband had died. As they were escorting me down the hall to the room
where his body was, I heard some commotion and I looked up and saw my
father-in-law and brother in law. I stopped to tell them what had happened
and as we spoke, I heard footsteps and my son and his girlfriend came rushing
in. We made our way down the corridor and just as we got to the door of my husbands room, I heard my daughter calling my name and looked up to see the two of them hurrying toward us.

It took me a few years before I appreciated and understood the
immenseness of that moment. It was nothing short of a miracle that they
had all arrived when they did. All in different cars all notified by
different people and yet at the exact time, the time that I needed them the very
most, God orchestrated their arrival. Our God is so faithful!

We don't know the reason God allows bad things to happen. I know I blamed God for not stopping my husbands car and for not allowing me to be able to say goodbye to him. But looking back I can't begin to tell you all the ways God comfored me in my grief.



The last movie Ed and I watched on television was a Hallmark movie called "Dancing with the White Dog. The story was about a white dog that shows up right after a man's wife died. He believed it was his wife coming back to watch over him.

It was a beautiful touching movie and we both cried.

Less than a week later, as the funeral procession pulled into the cemetery to bury my husband, a white labrador retreiver was standing near my husbands gravesite. I let out a gasp and there wasn't a dry eye when I told the story.

All winter long my yard was full of pheasants and deer and rabbits. They drew closer than ever before as if sensing my grief. My husband loved the nature. Never before or since have I had a pheasant come onto my deck and perch on one of the wood posts. I swear it looked right at me and our eyes locked. I knew it was there for my sake, and I knew I was being watched over.



I love to hear the stories people share about their experiences. So often we are afraid to share them for fear others will think we're a little strange. The look of surprise and relief on the faces of the women I talk to is heartwarming, and they are always eager to share any out of the ordinary experiennces that they have had.
It is such a comfort not just to recieve Gods comforting reminders but to be able to share them with others.
Anyone care to share your story with the rest of us?

God's Work of Art

What an absolutely beautiful fall weekend this was. The colors are at their peak and the temperature is summerlike.

It was so much fun to sit out and watch football. All three grandsons won their games and hall had fantastic games. One had an interception, one a touchdown, and one did a fantastic job for the two minutes he played quarterback. That wasn't meant to be sarcastic even though it sounds like it. I would much rather he play safety -not nearly as much pressure.

Grandmothers hearts aren't made to hear anyone complain about her offspring when there is a fumble.

On the way to the game yesterday I passed a tree that took my breath away. The orangish red was so brilliant that no words can describe its beauty. Today on my way to the apple orchard I passed another tree just as brilliant but in a deep yellow gold.

Its hard to believe that anyone can believe this beauty could come about by chance -by a big bang, and not by creation.

Nope, you'll never convince me this awesome is anything other than just another way for God to show me how much he loves me...okay, and you too!