All That I Am Today
(A ministry for THIS moment)
"Offering everything we are to the Lord."
most writing is by South Dakota author BJ Reese
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SUNRISE
March 1, 2021
On a recent Wednesday morning, I peeked out my living room window as the sun was rising in the sky to the southeast of my home. This time of year, that is where the sunrise colors begin . . . from my vantage point, anyway. Drawn by the vivid colors forming there, I grabbed a jacket and stepped out onto the porch to watch the show. Sunrises and sunsets have always been two of my favorite things in all of God’s Creation.
It fascinates me, how He paints these amazing colors and patterns across the sky – using light and water vapor as His medium. Each one is completely unique . . . a spectacle that has never been shown before, and will never be repeated. The variation of color and pattern is mesmerizing. Its beauty captivates me every time I see it.
I also feel a promise in each one of these magnificent paintings. In the sunrise, that promise says, “Good morning. I’m here to walk with you through this day.” In the sunset, it says, “Rest easy. I’ll look after things while you sleep.” Whatever time it is – whatever is on my mind at the moment – my soul is filled with joy, wonder, and peace in that instant. My reaction is the same. Every. Single. Time.
Since I moved to South Dakota, I’ve discovered another wonder in the sunrises and sunsets. Very often – because of the cloud patterns on any given morning or evening – the color wraps itself all the way around the perimeter of the sky above my home. I don’t remember ever witnessing such an effect in a sunrise or sunset in any other place I’ve ever lived. For me, it is unique to this place on Earth.
The result is that I feel surrounded by the color . . . encircled by the promise. It feels like I’ve been wrapped up in God’s arms – embraced by the assurance that He is with me always. As though I’ve been enveloped in a hug from my Creator – a hug meant just for me.
On this particular February morning, as I watched the light show over my house, the following words were whispered into my mind:
The Light of Your Love
adds color to our world;
The color wraps itself
around us and adds
warmth and hope to our lives.
In every sunrise, every sunset,
we are reminded of Your Glory.
Thank you, for giving us
such a vivid picture of
the Light of Your Love.
(~ BJ Reese, 2/3/2021)
Next time you have the opportunity to witness God’s handiwork in the morning or evening sky, take a moment or two to stop and truly enjoy it. See what it says to your spirit.
Sunrise is only one of the many treasures we’ve explored on this page since Precious Legacy was launched nearly three years ago. Our treasure chest is filling up, folks! Next month, I will pause to review all of the gems we’ve examined and placed in our treasure chest. If you are a recent follower, this will be a good chance for you to see every topic we’ve discussed – at a glance. I hope you’ll join me for this special Third Anniversary celebration – in the April 1st issue of Precious Legacy. Until then, I lift it all up . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
See you next time . . .
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DETERMINATION:
THANKS, MARGE!
February 1, 2021
We’re all familiar with the word, ‘determination’. It wears different faces in different phases of our lives. In a child, it often takes on the appearance of stubbornness, or willfulness. In a teenager, it may look like rebellion. And so, it continues to change throughout our journey through life. So, what does determination look like when someone is in their ninth decade on this Earth?
Fortunately for many of us here in the Black Hills, we had a living image of the answer to that question. We saw it every day . . . in a lady named Marge.
To her family, she was spunky – and, maybe, a little stubborn at times. To those of us in her church family, she was feisty and independent. Determined to do for herself what she could for as long as she could. If she had a free hand, she would carry her own parcel, or take her own snack plate to the table. She would open the heavy door to her building by herself. She hated being treated like she wasn’t capable. Her can-do attitude followed her everywhere she went.
It kept her working tirelessly as a volunteer at the Cornerstone Thrift Store two days a week, until she was 90 years old. It joined her as she played cards with her friends each week, and as she went to dinner with another group of friends regularly. It was there as she attended Bible studies or the meetings for the groups she was involved in.
Marge’s heart was filled with a desire to serve others. She wasn’t content to sit on the sidelines – she wanted to BE there, DOING things. When she could no longer drive herself anymore, she arranged rides to get her there. The limitations of her failing eyesight did not slow her down. She adjusted, listening more intently to things she could no longer read.
We watched in awe as Marge survived hip replacement surgery at age 90. As she recovered, she resumed some of the activities she had always enjoyed. The only thing that ever slowed her down was the restrictions brought on by the COVID crisis. Still, she adamantly refused to live in fear.
For many months, Marge had ridden to church with my husband and me . . . until COVID caused a two-month shutdown of many businesses and churches. Striving to cautiously protect all of us, Rich decided we would wait a while longer before returning to live church. I was fine with that, and Marge understood. Five weeks after our church had reopened, however, we got a call from Marge. “Is Rich ready to go back to church yet? I need to go to church!” Blunt and honest, Marge always said exactly what she meant. It was refreshing.
Laughing with delight, we told her that we would gladly take her to church that Sunday. Her fierce determination to get on with her life helped us find the courage to venture back into our lives. It felt good to return to our Sunday routine.
This tiny, headstrong woman has left behind a legacy of determination for us to cling to. Through her persistent example, we know the value of standing firm and doing what we can for ourselves. We know what a treasure it is to never, EVER give up.
Thanks for showing us the way, Marge. We will do our best to follow your example throughout our lives. We love you.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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FORGIVENESS
January 2, 2021
Everyone I know has some attitude or behavior that is born of an experience in their past. It is a natural defense mechanism, designed to protect us from feeling the same pain again. But what happens when that defense mechanism changes . . . and begins to be used as a weapon?
That seems to be happening a lot lately. All around us, anger and division are being fueled by the crises our country is experiencing. Health concerns, political preferences, racial issues, respect for authority . . . everything seems to be cause for debate. Even worse, each subject seems to be spawning vicious arguments. At the same time, old wounds are being reopened. Past experiences are being brought up as justification for the anger and bitterness.
Family members are landing on opposing sides of all those arguments. Friends are creating ‘no-talk zones’ – topics which they cannot discuss – in an effort to preserve their friendships. As I watch the drama unfold, the action moves closer and closer to our family.
As it does, I’m beginning to see a wedge being driven between certain people. Words of anger are being spoken . . . words that can never be unsaid or taken back. Bitterness. Hateful comments. Unyielding, unforgiving attitudes. The pain from all of these scenarios is spreading.
Recently, I found myself wondering what purpose it serves. What good does it do for us to keep rehashing some old argument? I wondered. Suddenly, I thought of the Israelites and their journey to the Promised Land. When things grew difficult along the way, they begged God to take them back to Egypt – back to the evil they already knew. To the bondage of their past, where they knew what to expect.
God refused. Instead, He let them wander a while, and then led them into the land He had promised them. He led them forward – to the future – not backward into the past. As this story played itself out in my mind, I realized how it ties to forgiveness.
The past holds memories and events that offer to teach us lessons. Signposts which provide guidance: ‘go this way for happiness’; ‘go that way for pain and sorrow’. We are meant to LEARN from the past . . . not LIVE in it. When we begin to stay there, wallowing in the memory of our misery, we bring the dissatisfaction, anger, and bitterness into our present situation. Bitterness then adds its acrid, nasty flavor to every conversation, to every new situation. The memory has become a weapon.
In the bright Light of Love and forgiveness, however, those same memories become priceless tools. They fill us with joy, peace, and a renewed sense of understanding and purpose. They become guideposts which light our way to the glorious promise God has waiting for us. As they do, we even become grateful for their part in our journey.
Which will you choose? Will you allow yourself to dwell in the dark, bitter sorrow of what WAS? Or will you turn toward the brilliant, guiding Light of forgiveness. The good news is this: we all get to choose . . . every single day.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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AWARENESS
December 1, 2020
So far, most of the concepts I’ve shared on this page are things I’ve learned from the stunning examples set by other people in my life. But there have been some lessons that did not come to me in that fashion.. Instead, they came through some situation or circumstance that was hard to get through.
By God’s grace, however, I did survive them all. When I came out the other side, some new item for me to tuck into life’s tool belt was waiting for me there. Once such tool was awareness: a keen awareness of how some things make me feel.
The Lord created me with an intensely emotional heart. There are days when it seems like I run the gamut of every emotion known to man in a matter of hours. Most of the time, I can identify what I’m feeling. In addition, I can usually tell you what past experience has caused that particular emotion to rear its ugly head.
You see, the most intense life lessons are often connected to something unpleasant. Awareness of them has come at a price. When my husband is late coming home, for instance, there is a fear attached to that event. A fear so deeply rooted, it sometimes takes hours of babbling and crying to discover what it is. I know I'm afraid; 'why' takes me a while to sort out.
The process always leads me back to the same place. My second husband died suddenly – unexpectedly, at 54 years of age – and I was not with him when it happened. When I finally listen hard enough to allow God to show me the truth, I end up face-to-face with that specific incident from my past. Every time Richard is later than expected, that old memory deep in my mind begins to wonder if he’s alright. By the time he gets home, I can barely speak. I can only cry, in relief that he is safe.
I share this with you so I can try to help you better understand the reactions of your loved ones. Maybe it will even help them understand their reactions better. The next time you’re late and your spouse or parent (or an adult child, checking on you by phone) explodes with the question, “WHERE have you BEEN?!” try not to react in haste. Take a moment to realize that your late arrival may very well have scared the holy living daylights out of them.
Their question – and the anger with which they ask it – are both born of that fear. Responding to them from a space of similar anger will only give power to the anger. Instead, try to respond in kindness. In gracious understanding of the secret terror they have just experienced. Awareness of the feelings BEHIND an outburst could, quite possibly, change everything.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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STRENGTH
November 1, 2020
Anyone who still believes women are the ‘weaker’ sex must not be part of a church body. I say this because I am frequently amazed by the women of our church. Whatever they’re facing in life, they march quietly onward, with their heads held high. They greet others with love, kindness, and joy.
Linda had a lengthy battle with serious lung issues. You would never have guessed it when you saw her. Her warm hugs and loving smile conveyed genuine caring . . . as she asked how you were.
Mary, Bonnie, Louise, Christie (and probably several others I’m forgetting about) are at various stages of a battle with some form of cancer. Again, you would never suspect that when they greet you. The dark cloud you would expect to find simply isn’t there. In its place are warm smiles, genuine concerns for others, and laughter that lilts through the air.
Four women that I know of have endured a loss far greater than I can begin to imagine – the death of a child. Still, I watch in wonder as I see each of them engage the people around them. Their faces radiate a warmth and compassion that comes from a place deep within their souls. The joy of the Lord engulfs them as they sing praise and worship songs, or participate in other church activities.
The list goes on and on . . . No matter what a family member or loved one might be facing, all of the women in our church body respond the same way. They seem to face each day with strength, courage, and a quiet dignity. A joy that can only come from a profound faith in the Lord radiates from every single one of them. It shows vividly in everything they do. They are an inspiration – and a role model – to every woman there.
In December, we will celebrate the birth of our Savior. When God chose the woman who would carry Him, He chose a young woman of strong character. A woman whose faith gave her the courage to obey without question. Her quiet, gentle faith made her a woman of strength, courage, and grace. Strong enough to endure any criticism she encountered, yet humble enough to step back when it was time for her son to begin the work He was Created for.
I watch in awe, every single week, as the women in our church model similar behaviors. Each and every one of them glows with the Love of God. They are a true inspiration to all who see them. They are an image of all the amazing qualities given to a daughter of the King. Every day I know them, I learn something new. Thank you, ladies, from the bottom of my heart – for being who you are. Thank you for wearing your faith with such strength and poise. Thank you, Father, for their presence in my life.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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PROVISION
October 1, 2020
As the year 2002 entered its second quarter, I had been in Rapid City just over two and a half years. I stood watching the contractor put up the framing for the stairway/addition to my new home. It was a mild April day, and a few clumps of snow remained on the ground. Thinking about what a miracle this house was, I fidgeted slightly and looked down at the ground.
There, between the pebbles and tufts of dry weeds, I saw it. A blue and white marble – like we played with as kids – sat waiting for me to pick it up. After doing so, I placed it in my pocket. I would find a special place to display it in my new home, as a symbol of this miracle in my life. Why was it a miracle?
You see, being able to buy a home at all went against all human logic. I had moved here as a brand new widow, with a brand new bankruptcy that had just finalized the month before I moved. My verifiable income was less than $1,000.00 per month. Despite the reality of my situation, I was tired of renting.
I longed to buy a home of my own, but realtor after realtor had painted a very bleak picture of what I might be able to afford. Discouraged, but not ready to give up, I called my friend Jack – a mortgage broker. Jack and his wife Mary knew my situation. They had been a part of my life since a few short months after I arrived in South Dakota.
After listening to my request, and what I had already been told, Jack recognized the challenge. Still, he offered hope. “Let me run the numbers and see what I can come up with,” he said brightly. A few days later, he called me back. “I’m afraid the only way we’re going to be able to put you into a home of your own is to put you into a Governor’s House,” he said, frankly.
“Okay,” I began apprehensively. “What’s that?”
“It’s a program that offers new homes to low income families,” he explained. “The houses are built at the State Prison, training the inmates in the construction trades. If you qualify, they build your house while you find a lot and build the foundation.”
Clueless about what all I would have to do, I was intrigued and excited. “Do you think I would qualify?”
“It’s worth a shot!”
“Well then, let’s go for it!” That had been in August, 2001. By December, the house had been ordered, and we broke ground for the foundation. Now, I was standing here, in what would be my back yard, watching this man put one of the finishing touches on my new house. Every time I thought about it, I was stunned all over again. The ONLY way I could buy my own house was to buy a brand new house!?!
I thrust my hand into my coat pocket once more and rolled the marble between my fingers. Where does THAT happen? I wondered, in absolute awe. Today, I know the answer to that question. In God’s plan for you, anything can happen.
He had delivered me safely to South Dakota after my husband’s death, comforted me again when my mother died only four months later, and stood with me as I raised my youngest son alone. He had found us a safe place to live upon our arrival (a miracle in itself, because it was in a ‘questionable’ part of town), and now . . . this! He had put all the pieces in place for me to own a brand new house. ONLY in God’s world do such things happen!
Oh! That marble? It has a place of honor in my living room, where it serves as a constant reminder of God’s unwavering presence in my life. It is now accompanied by some two dozen other marbles I have found since that sunny April day. They remind me that whatever I think I have lost, I have found so much more, thanks to the generous and loving provision of God.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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RELATIONSHIP
September 14, 2020
The men of our church take a strong leadership role for our church family to follow. They gently, lovingly guide us on our journey of faith. One of the messages I hear most often, I first heard from a man named Jack.
On any given day, you can hear Jack remind someone, “It’s not about religion, it’s about relationship!” He says it in a sincere, but gentle voice. At the same time, he says it with vibrant enthusiasm. And he does so with a warm, genuine smile on his face. A true ambassador of Jesus, Jack lives the intent of this phrase in everything he does. He strives to build strong, godly relationships with everyone he meets.
Earlier this year, the Lord led me to a new – and unexpected – understanding of Jack’s favorite message. It was prayer time and, as I often do, I was journaling about a question I had for God. I had noticed that I seldom had a request for God lately, and I wondered if that was weird. True to the promise of His Holy Spirit’s comfort and guidance, He planted his answer clearly on my heart.
Is it weird, that I can’t think of anything to ask for some days? Am I in a rut created by depression? Or is something else going on?
No, child. This is exactly what should happen as you mature in your faith. Your prayer time is OUR RELATIONSHIP TIME. Our coffee-klatch, if you will.
So, this is the goal, all along?
Yes, child. Prayers are how you and I spend time together. It’s how we fellowship.
Then, it isn’t weird that I’m not asking for things?
No. Think about your fellowship time with the people you have in your life. Is it peppered with a lot of requests and needs?
No. We catch up on what’s going on in each other’s lives. We share ideas and thoughts. We just . . . talk about stuff . . .
Well . . . THAT’s how ANY relationship works. Ours should be no different.
The further I walk with God, the more I seem to understand. Yes, He wants us to nurture our relationships with people, and to spread the Good News about Jesus. But I’ve come to believe there’s something else He wants even more . . . for us to develop and nurture a loving, friendship-style relationship with HIM also.
The more comfortable you become being with God, the easier you will find it to talk to Him. It may start out just commenting on something you see or hear – the colors of that sunset, or the sounds of the birds. But, in time, it becomes so much more. You start sharing more intimate thoughts with Him and before you know it, you find yourself patiently listening for the answer He lays upon your heart.
Whether it happens over your morning cup of coffee, or before you lay down your head at the end of the day, it is just as valuable to God. It can take place at your kitchen table, on your bedroom floor, or sitting in your back yard. It happens any time you admire the beauty and wonder of His Creation. Whenever – wherever – you pause to talk to God, He will be right there, ready to enjoy your company.
However you pursue this precious relationship with your Creator, remember this: be yourself! It isn’t necessary to duplicate an example you heard from a friend or someone at church. It doesn't have to be fancy, elaborate, or eloquent. It just has to be real. Your relationship with God will be based on who He created YOU to be, on YOUR personality and YOUR conversation style. Just relax and let it happen.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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HOSPITALITY
August 1, 2020
Every August, I find myself looking back over the years since God first led me to South Dakota, back in 1999. Long before I left Pennsylvania to make this trip, I had become certain it was His Hand which was guiding me. Many times, since I arrived, I have been aware of feeling like I am home. This year, I realize it is more than that.
It is more than ‘I feel safe here.’ More than ‘I feel comfortable here.’ It is more than just MY feelings. Much more. God did not just make a home for me in South Dakota. He found me a family. He plopped me down in the middle of their ‘living room’ and said, “This is Bonnie. Make her welcome.” They have done that.
That hospitality has not been limited to only my church family. God has surrounded me with friends who attend other churches; who also have strong church families. Through those friends, I’ve had prayer access to their church families whenever I’ve needed it.
Whenever life has thrown my family a curve ball, the body of Christ has been right there to help us field that curve. They have reached out from every angle, offering love, comfort, and support. Not once have I been left to face sadness, loss, tragedy, or fear alone. God’s church was there for my family and me every one of those difficult times.
Sitting with us at the funeral of a loved one they never met. Praying for the healing and recovery of an injured child or grandchild they didn’t even know. They were also there to celebrate and rejoice with me on joyous occasions. Planning, cooking, and decorating for weddings and retirement celebrations. Joining my family at bridal showers. Praising God for the wondrous things He’s doing in the lives of my family members.
The family of God went above and beyond when answering the call to make me feel welcome. They extended the kind of love and hospitality that Christ demonstrated every single day of His Earthly ministry. Because of them, and the kindness they’ve shown to me and my family, I know God better than ever. I feel closer to Him than I ever have. Because of them, I know who HE is.
That kind of welcome is not confined to any specific place or region of the country. It is possible ANY where God’s church exists. Whatever city or town you call home – whatever church you attend – I encourage you to answer the call for kindness and hospitality.
Make it your personal mission to extend the warm hand of welcome to every visitor you meet. Remember: we are God’s ambassadors on Earth. Every day of your life, show people Who our God truly is.
See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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PERSPECTIVE
July 1, 2020
I’m always amazed at how our perspective about things changes with the passage of time. As it does, much of our understanding changes with it. This seems to be Perfectly Designed to help us comprehend what God wants us to, when He decides we’re ready for the knowledge.
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When I was in 6th grade, it was 1966. Our teacher started a discussion about the turn of the upcoming century. He asked us to figure out how old we would be when that year arrived. I was 12 at the time, which meant I’d be 46 when that momentous year began. I remember thinking how impossibly old that seemed. I seriously doubted I would still be alive by then. In fact, most teenagers in the 1960s considered people over 30 to be old. Too old to understand what we did or how we felt about things.
Later, in my mid-40s, I was working for a newspaper the year two of the women on staff turned 25. I remember listening as they lamented over being a quarter-of-a-century old, and how silly their complaining seemed to me. I flippantly reminded them that turning 25 was way better than the alternative. In contrast to their attitude, another staff member proudly defied sorrow over his age when he celebrated the “19th anniversary of his 39th birthday!”
The year I turned 58, I seemed to be surrounded by people who were traumatized by turning 40. I remember thinking, “40 was an entire adult ago” (referring to the fact that one is considered a legal adult at age 18 – a change which took place when I was 18).
Today, my youngest son is in his late 30s, one son is turning 40 soon, and the other is in his mid-40s. When my youngest expressed his shock at turning 30 a few years ago, we laughed together about my age: I was 30 times two! As I have wrestled with being a senior citizen, I’ve done a lot of thinking about other landmark ages: 50 was 16 years ago; 40 was 26 years ago; and 21 was a whopping 45 years ago.
I own a car that, as a human, would be old enough to drink. It has been over 20 years since the turn of the century – that’s eight more years than I had been alive when my 6th grade teacher first asked us to think about the year 2000. I’m astounded when I realize I’ve been in South Dakota longer than I have ever lived anywhere – including Pennsylvania – where I lived a lifetime with my children.
Throughout our lives, various milestones leave us fighting for balance in our minds. They shock us. We wonder how those years could have gone by so quickly. But there’s another side to that coin. A perspective that only makes sense when looking backward. When I look back at all those milestones, I notice all the treasures they hold: the lessons I learned; the accomplishments, joys, and blessings they carried; and the wisdom God imparted to me through each one. I see all the places in which God’s Hand played a part. Each season of my life left behind precious gifts when it passed.
And here’s the thing that impresses me the most. If anyone had, at that time, told me ANY of those lessons, it would’ve been wasted energy. The wisdom they shared would not have made sense to me at all. Only years later, when I hear those words echo in my memory, do the lessons finally snap into crystal clear focus.
For as much as I whine and complain about my age, and for as much as I tease God about it, it is absolutely perfect that it all works the way it does. Only from this perspective am I able to recognize and understand the things God wants me to understand. Here, in this space, where I’ve finally slowed down enough to listen, I can hear His Voice explaining it all. From this vantage point, it all begins to make perfect sense.
See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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ACCEPT AND APPRECIATE
June 1, 2020
Sometimes, the ideas for what to say here come from the most unexpected places. There was one of our recent yard-work days, for instance. My husband had just finished mowing the lawn. Afterward, we were sitting on the back deck, discussing how birds use grass clippings to line their nests. Our conversation led me to ponder an intriguing question.
“Can you imagine building something using ONLY your mouth?” I asked him.
“No,” he said quietly. Then, “And there’s the beavers. Look how hard they work to build their dams. They not only haul the sticks and branches; they weave them together.”
Think about that. These small animals WEAVE wood into dams, and into intricate homes that protect them from predators and the weather. Birds weave twigs and grass into cozy, secure beds for their young, located in places that protect them from their natural enemies. Throughout the animal kingdom, creatures find – or build – homes that are perfectly suited to them.
In each scenario, I cannot imagine doing what they do. I definitely can’t fathom doing it in the way they do it. That got me to thinking about all the times we judge or criticize how someone performs a particular task. “They don’t prep like I would.” “They don’t stack the dishes the way I would, or mow the lawn in the same pattern I would.” In each case, we’re SO sure our way would be better than theirs.
But, would it? How do we know? We aren’t in that person’s head, hearing the exact way their thoughts form. How can we be sure OUR way would be more effective or efficient for THAT person?
Would you like to instruct the birds in how to build a better nest? Or build one yourself, using their methods? Perhaps you’d like to show the beaver a better way to build his dam and lodge. Or explain to the bear or wolf how to choose the perfect den in which to make his home. No? Neither would I.
Maybe it’s time all of us stop and think before we criticize someone else’s methods. Withhold our suggestions until such time that they ASK for our ideas. Perhaps it’s time to stop assuming we know what’s best for everyone around us. After all, we don’t have any problem respecting how the animals and birds do their work. In fact, we admire their achievements and the way they go about them. Don’t God’s human creations deserve the same respect?
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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MEMORIES
May 1, 2020
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A woman I know recently found some old photos of one of her grown and married children. The discovery brought her great joy and she couldn’t wait to show her kids what she had found. I could feel her excitement as I read the comment she’d posted with it . . . “Oh my God! Look what I found!”
To me, her joy was obvious. I sensed no malice or belittlement in her gleeful post and comment. Apparently, that wasn’t so obvious to her adult children. They immediately took an offensive posture in their response to the pictures their mother had posted. They hurled hateful, critical comments at her. As I read them, I felt this mother’s pain. As a mother myself, I felt saddened by what I read.
After only a few moments, she removed the post entirely. In its place was an assurance to her children that it had been taken down. All I could think was, “How sad, that they didn’t hear the sheer delight she felt when she discovered those pictures.” Saddened by the precious opportunity they had missed – at sharing a treasured memory – I prayed for them all.
Which brings me to the reason for this specific post. I am here to speak to the subject of memories. My hope is to help the younger generations gain a glimpse into the minds and hearts of their mothers and grandmothers. To help them understand what we see when we run across those aging photos that were taken at a time you would rather forget.
In that moment, a mother doesn’t see the insecure young person who hates everything about himself. A mother doesn’t see the doubts and fears and anxieties that were being experienced by that child on an almost daily basis. A mother doesn’t see the self-loathing that child was feeling.
When a mother looks at the precious young face in that old photo, she sees the child who still needed her every day. Who eagerly chattered away over all the details of his life. She sees the child whom she could still pull into her arms in order to offer comfort and reassurance.
In that fading picture, a mother sees her own past. For that moment – in that brief jaunt down memory lane – a mother is carried away to another time. She sees the history of everything she ever was. She is, once again, the woman she was all those years ago. Young, vibrant . . . filled with the energy needed to easily keep up with whatever was going on.
She is still needed every single day. Her counsel – and comfort – are still wanted every day. And, her child is still in a place where that mother can look after him. Where she can do all she is able to in order to protect him and keep him safe. To him, she is still a hero – supermom; able to fix anything. For those few moments, she exists in a reality in which she still has time . . . still has a chance to pass on all the wisdom she knows that the child will need in his life.
The mother looking at that old photo knows beyond the shadow of any doubt how precious – and pricelessly valuable – those memories are. In many cases, she is no longer able to share such memories with her own mother, who has long since gone Home to the Lord. That reality adds extra value to the old photos of her much-beloved children. She still has time to share those cherished memories with them . . . if they will let her.
So, the next time your mother pulls out some old picture that embarrasses you or reminds you of a time you would rather forget, think carefully. Take a moment to remember ALL you know about the woman who raised you. Remember that she is virtually incapable of a malicious thought toward you. Then, slow down and share the memories with her . . . while you still can.​
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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PROTECTING OUR LEGACY
March 28, 2020
For two years now, this blog has been about acknowledging all the wondrous things we’ve learned from the eldest members of our society. It has been about honoring the Precious Legacy of wisdom they have contributed to our world. Today, I’m calling on all of you to help me honor them in a different way.
COVID-19 has, as we all know, created a global health crisis. In an effort to slow its spread, we are being asked to pull back from non-essential activities. To isolate ourselves for a little while. For most of us, doing so is proving to be an inconvenience, but nothing we can’t handle. After all, we have the many technological marvels of this glorious information age to help us stay connected. We can reach out via social media, and have live video conversations with those we love. We can attend church online, and still see the loving faces of our pastors and church families. We can shop online and have items delivered, or pick them up with minimal human contact. Many people are finding ways to continue working – from the safety of their own homes. Students are able to keep up with their school work online. So many creative options make it possible for us to continue our daily lives.
That’s great – for most of us. But what about those living in nursing homes, assisted living facilities, and senior communities? Most of them do not even use the internet – not even email. A great number of them are no longer able to drive. And many of them live alone. Outside visitors, to nursing homes and other care facilities, have been suspended in order to protect the residents and patients.
How do these folks stay connected to the outside world during this crisis? Normally, they gather together – right where they live. They play cards, share a meal, or meet for coffee several mornings a week. These simple activities help break up the monotony of their days. Now, however – in the name of health and safety – many of these activities have been suspended or cancelled. These precious folks have gone from limited contact to NO contact.
These distractions are no longer available to them. Out of concern for their health – as the ones most vulnerable to COVID-19 – they are being cut off from the very interactions which support their emotional well-being. I’m asking you to take a moment to consider how that might feel.
Put yourselves in their shoes for a moment. Imagine . . . you have a phone, but it ONLY makes phone calls. No texts, no pictures, no internet connection – just voice contact. You have no computer, and no access to one. No access to the internet through ANY source . . . and you wouldn’t know how to use it if you had it, anyway. You have no car, and no means to use one. No one can come and visit you. And, in many cases, you live alone.
This is the current scenario for many of our eldest citizens. Many of them have lived through horrors you and I cannot even imagine. Now, our world is being invaded by an unseen horror, and they are caught in the cross-fire. They’re being protected from the virus, but the isolation COULD be equally as dangerous for them. Maybe even more so.
As Christians, we’ve been called to show the light and peace of God’s love to the troubled world around us. I’m asking all of you to join me in doing our part. If you know someone who is living as I have described here, PLEASE reach out! Call them, just to touch base and check on them. See if they need anything. Talk to them. Listen to them for a while. Let them know they are not forgotten . . . that they are not alone.
God has promised to be with us through ANY storm. Be His hands and feet – and His voice - now. Show these precious folks that WE are there to walk beside THEM as we all weather this storm together. Make sure they know they have not been abandoned.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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IMAGE PRAYERS
February 7, 2020
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My friend Mary is only three years older than I, but I learn something wonderful from her nearly every time we’re together. One of the most precious things she has taught me is how to just BE with God. We were having lunch one day, in the cute little diner we both like. I was trying to explain a problem I was having whenever I tried to pray over certain things.
“Sometimes,” I said, “I feel so emotional about something that it drives me nuts. When I try to talk to God about it, I can’t even find the words. All I can do is cry. It’s so frustrating!”
Mary’s faced glowed with the light of instant recognition. “I call those ‘image prayers’,” she said simply. I looked at her quizzically, but intrigued.
She continued, “When there are no words, I imagine myself crawling into God’s lap and laying my head on His chest – just like a child would do in his daddy’s lap. There, I can cry until all my tears have been spent. God will wrap His arms around me, and hold my while I cry. I can feel His comfort. I don’t need to say a word – He knows my heart. I can stay right there until I feel better.”
“So,” I began hesitantly, “it’s an image prayer because –“
“Because I think of the image of what I need in that moment. The image itself is my prayer.”
This conversation took place years ago. I’ve paraphrased it a bit, since I don’t recall the exact words. But the general idea is intact: God can read the words in my heart, even when I cannot speak them.
Mary’s description was easy for me to comprehend. It also led me to a great understanding of the Scriptures which speak of the Holy Spirit. This Helper was sent to us by Jesus. Among other things, He translates for us when we pray. When the words don’t come out right – or they won’t come at all – He will interpret our requests and needs to God.
Thanks to Mary, I no longer grow as frustrated when I can’t find the words I want to say to God. Instead, I take a calming breath to slow my thoughts. After a moment of quiet, I call out to God . . . “Daddy, help!”
As the tears begin to roll down my cheek, I call up the image that comforts me. I see myself climbing into my Father’s lap. I collapse into the warmth of His comforting arms. I lay my head on His chest and let the tears fall. No words.
Just an image of a Father lovingly holding his hurting child. Keeping His promise to always be there for that child. An image of a child absorbing all the strength and comfort she needs, from the Father who promises to provide all that she needs. In this image prayer, I find peace and comfort that I can always trust – always count on. What a precious gift!
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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APPROACHABLE
December 20, 2019
My husband was an over-the-road truck driver for the first 14 years of our relationship. Because of that, we ate a lot of meals at our local truck stop. The waitresses all know us on sight. Even though Rich has retired from trucking, the truck stop is still our favorite place to have breakfast.
A few years ago, a new manager took over the restaurant. I never saw the old manager; I knew about the change because the waitresses talked about it. In no time, we knew who the new manager was, and what he looked like. Where previous managers had been tucked away in some unknown office, Don was IN the restaurant.
Five days a week, you can find him sitting in a booth near the kitchen, doing paperwork. He greets the customers as they come and go, and engages them in conversation. He interacts with the waitresses. It is in that booth that he holds meetings with vendor reps who come calling. It is there that he meets with other staff members. He discusses their problems with them. Concerns and needs are addressed. He shows them that he cares. He interviews job applicants in that booth. If someone comes in looking for work, he has applications with him and can hand them one on the spot.
His pleasant smile and gentle voice send a crystal clear message to everyone who sees him . . . he is approachable. People can talk to him about whatever is on their minds. Their opinions and preferences matter to him. If he ever has to reprimand someone, customers never witness that conversation. Don’s pleasant, approachable demeanor has earned him the respect and affection of those who work there.
“Good morning, Boss!” is said cheerfully and genuinely, and is returned in kind. For the customers, Don has become a fixture. If you’re there on a weekend, it seems odd for someone to sit in that corner booth. That’s Don’s booth. Because he’s always there . . . at least, it seems like he is. He has become such a presence, something seems missing when he is not there.
I’ve learned a lot from these observations. I’ve learned to keep my mind open. To be willing and ready to listen to someone’s opinions – even if they’re uncomfortable for me to hear. I've learned to be approachable, rather than easily offended. To avoid going on the defensive when someone’s opinion differs from mine.
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Can you imagine how wonderful this world would be if more bosses were so approachable? Contentment in the workplace could become the norm, instead of the exception. What if we were all that way in all of our relationships? What changes might we witness then? I offer us all the following challenge:
Whether you’re the boss or an employee; a spouse or a parent; a friend or a relative, strive to be more approachable. Give yourself a chance to see what it does to improve your world.
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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LEAD FROM WHERE YOU ARE October 4, 2019
Proverbs 22:6 says, “Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart form it.”
These great words from the book of Proverb encourage us as parents. They assure us that our children will benefit, long term, from what we teach them. Surely this includes teaching them about God and the value of His Word.
But what if YOU didn’t know those things when they were little? If your relationship with the Lord began after the kids were grown and gone, have you missed your chance? Is it too late to guide them? To “train them up”? I used to think so. I used to grieve over lost opportunities, and torture myself with regret.
Then, a series of crisis situations thrust my sons and me into each other’s arms. Needing help and support, we clung to one another for strength. At first, the intensity of the crisis intensified my regrets: maybe things wouldn’t be so bad if I had taught them about God sooner. But then, I noticed something . . .
In those intense moments, the ONLY thing that helped was God’s Word. The comfort of His Truth became the only refuge in which we felt safe. Each day, I grew more comfortable sharing some spiritual or Biblical Truth with my sons. Slowly, the crisis began to ease.
As it did, I received a marvelous gift. I found my boys – now in their 30s and 40s – looking to me for spiritual guidance. They wanted me to lead them in a path that follows God. To show them how to stand firm on that path, no matter what. When I expressed to them my regret that I hadn't done so when they were little, they surprised me.
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"You couldn't, Mom. You weren't there yet. You had to become stronger in your own relationship with God before you could teach us how to have one. Stop worrying. This happened exactly the way it was supposed to."
Today, it is over two years since that crisis first began. I am still being offered opportunities to guide my family along this path. My sons have all come to trust me with their prayer requests. And, when they need spiritual advice, they ask for my help. What a treasure!
Much to my great joy, God has shown me how wrong I once was. He has proven to me that, even if you don’t START until after your kids are grown, you can still influence them. And, He can still reach them. He will still offer a way for you to ‘train them up’ . . . from the very space upon which you are currently standing. Just keep listening . . .
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See you next time . . .
To His Glory . . . BJ
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TRUST GOD
August 11, 2019
Many of us are familiar with the Biblical story of Job. Despite unthinkable hardships, traumas, and losses, Job continued to trust and praise God. Would be do as well? I’ve often wondered. Then I met Phyllis.
Phyllis is the first friend I met when I arrived in South Dakota, in 1999. We have grown close over the years, and have shared in each other’s ups and downs. I felt Phyllis’ pain when her adult daughter, Memory, was murdered.
Phyllis confided her anger to me. She told me she had yelled at God. She cussed at God. She asked Him virtually every question you would expect to be asked in that situation. Still, she was able to place her trust in God and express love for Him, despite her anger.
Memory’s daughter was about eight years old at the time. After Memory’s death, she came to live with Phyllis and her husband. Somewhere during the ensuing years, young Brianna was diagnosed with a terminal health condition. Prayers went up for her healing.
Phyllis proudly shared every one of Brianna’s milestones with me. Against all odds, she graduated from high school and stepped bravely into adult life. She met and fell in love with a young man who had also survived a terminal health crisis. After they married, the young couple was told they would probably never have children. Two sons later, it is obvious to Phyllis that God has other plans.
“God has something very special in mind for those two little boys,” she told me. I totally agree with her assessment. The miracles in their story shine like diamonds on black velvet. Phyllis, now a widow, rejoices in every tidbit of news about their lives.
Her husband’s recent death is one of a long list of losses through which God has carried Phyllis. At a recent dinner, she told me her family had lost 15 of its members over the course of only six months.
Still, her face lights up when she talks about those family members who are still alive. Or when she asks about my son Kevin, whom she’s known since he was 15. When I share good news with her, she rejoices with me. Together, we discuss the power of God’s love for his children and the wonders of His world.
Phyllis marches bravely through live, despite all it has thrown at her. And, just like Job, she continues to trust God and praise Him. Thank you, Phyllis, for teaching me so very much about faith in adversity.
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See you next time . . .
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To His Glory . . . BJ
THE PERFECT ESCAPE
July 20, 2019
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1 Corinthians 10:13 offers us an intriguing promise:
“. . . God . . . will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with
the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.”
Every time I’ve read this verse in the past, I’ve equated it to the usual temptations a person faces. Drugs, alcohol, gambling, stealing – whatever someone might have trouble avoiding. When this passage appeared in a recent devotional, however, it began to take on a startling new meaning.
“What if,” I thought, “this applies to ANYTHING we battle? Not just temptations attached to our addictions. What if it’s MORE?”
Even as the question formed, I understood the answer. Giving in to the fears I face on a daily basis is also a temptation. One that must be avoided. Of course, resisting is far easier said than done.
I found myself reading that day’s devotion over and over again. I flipped back and forth between the two Scripture passages it referenced: 1 Corinthians 10:13 was one; Isaiah 43: 1-7 was the other. Isaiah 43:2 really caught my attention. Its familiar words held my gaze for long moments:
“When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers,
they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire,
thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”
I sat there transfixed by what I was reading. Remembering what the two Scripture passages said, I read the devotional message one more time. As I did, a new understanding planted itself in my mind . . . HE is our escape! HE is the strength we need to endure the trials life sends our way!
Ever since becoming a Christian, I’ve known God was there for me; that He would take care of me. But this “new” information changed something. It was – on the surface – a subtle change, but it has made a big difference. My heart feels lighter; my worries seem smaller.
For years, I have looked faithfully – in each troubling situation – for the escape route God would provide for me. Now, it seems SO much simpler than I have been making it. I needn’t look any further than God. In His arms – in His Word – in HIM, I have the perfect escape. He IS the escape!
To His Glory . . . BJ
BE KIND
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Many times in recent months, our church family has gathered to say good-bye to a member who has gone Home to the Lord. My husband and I have attended several of these services. Each time, we heard many loving comments about that person – from friends and family members. There is one, however, that stands out prominently in my mind.
Her name was Carole, and we did not know her. We know her son and his wonderful family, so we wanted to pay our respects. Work ended up preventing my husband from coming, so I attended on behalf of both of us. It was a beautiful service. I say that, not because it was very different from others I had attended. I say it because, by the time the service had ended, I DID know Carole. In fact, I came to recognize her as a kindred spirit – and someone my mother would have instantly liked and been drawn to.
Carole was kind. Her daughter-in-law told me, “She was the kindest person I ever knew!” Carole loved gardening, and created beautiful flower beds outside of their pizza restaurant. She had a bright, genuine smile that warmed the hearts of those around her.
Carole was a woman of strong faith, who lived in pure gratitude that we live under grace. She not only knew and understood the Fruits of the Spirit . . . she lived them. They were often used in describing her to others.
Carole had a great sense of humor. She loved learning. She was a serious student of natural and alternative medicine. She was strongly admired by everyone who knew her. And, she paid attention. Whenever Carole encountered someone, she was fully present in that encounter. She made each person feel important – that they mattered to her. She engaged each person completely, making them feel truly nurtured and cared about. That is an exceptionally rare gift.
Carole’s family members were living images of everything I heard about her. They were warm, kind, engaging people who made me feel that they were genuinely glad I had spoken to them. As I said: a rare gift.
I walked away from Carole’s service with an even clearer understanding of what matters in life. Of how we are to treat people. “I want to be like Carole,” I thought on the drive home. “I want to be that kind of person.”
My most heartfelt thanks to God, for the opportunity to meet these wonderful people. I feel truly, deeply blessed by this experience. To Carole’s family, I extend my most profound gratitude. Thank you for sharing her with us and showing us all who she was.
Carole, thank you for showing THEM who you were. Thank you for the precious, priceless legacy of love you left behind.
To the rest of us, I offer a challenge. Take a page from Carole’s life. BE KIND. As always, I lift this challenge up . . .
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To His Glory . . . BJ
TIME
Many times in life, we find ourselves scrambling to meet the needs of an aging loved one. We wrack our brains, trying to determine how to make their life easier. We find a vast array of gadgets and doodads that seem to fit the bill, and congratulate ourselves for our thoughtfulness and cleverness.
Then, we proudly present our “finds” to the loved one in question. Whatever it is – a new smart phone, a personal alarm, a video doorbell, a housekeeper, or a new chair – we are puzzled by our loved one’s reaction. Not only are they NOT as thrilled as we are . . . they seem almost annoyed. We end up going home confused, and disappointed.
“What happened?” we wonder. “What’s the problem?” A little bit of careful thought – and some studious listening – may have spared us this bewilderment we are now feeling. I know: you’re still confused. Stay with me, and I’ll explain.
You see, our aging loved ones have spent decades accumulating STUFF. And, for many of them, our modern technological wonders are simply ‘newfangled gadgets’ they would have to try and figure out. That isn’t how they want to spend this season of their lives! What DO they want? Time. Your time.
Keith is one of the men in our church who spends a lot of his time serving and helping others. He clarifies this issue of time with a very simple, straightforward statement. “The most valuable gift you can give someone,” he says emphatically, “is your time.”
Ask him to elaborate, and he will – listing several things we can do. Things that will be greatly appreciated.
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Go help them with yard work. Mow their lawn. Or, help them with some household task that has become difficult for them.
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Visit with them. Just sit and talk with them for a while.
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Call to see if they need anything, or just to check in on them.
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Stop by – for no reason – when you’re out running errands. Maybe see if they need you to pick up anything while you’re out.
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See if there’s anything they need help with.
Keith’s suggestions prompted me to think of some others:
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Send a greeting card, for no other reason than, “I’m thinking of you.”
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Send flowers, when it’s not a special occasion.
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Offer to take them for a drive in the countryside.
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Offer a ride to the store or an appointment.
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Invite them to lunch.
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Sit and look through photo albums with them.
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Play cards, or a game. Watch a favorite movie together.
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Bring dinner to someone who can’t get out much any more.
Whatever you choose, spend some TIME with that person. Let them know someone still cares; still treasures their company. Show them they were thought of today. Let them know they still have value.
These folks don’t need any more stuff. They need the life-giving warmth of human companionship. They need the reassurance and comfort of knowing that someone still cares. They need YOU.
To His Glory . . . BJ
SUCH AS I HAVE
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In Acts 3, verse 1-6, John and Peter are entering the temple and encounter a lame man asking alms at the gat. Peter looked at him and said, “Look on us.” The man gazed expectantly at them.
Then, Peter said, “Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.”
As I read this story recently, four words leaped out at me: “such as I have . . .” Think about those words for a moment. Let them sink in. Do you feel the weight of their significance? “Such as I have . . .”
Many times in life, we are faced with a situation to which we have nothing tangible to offer. We’ve all responded the same way, at one time or another. “Sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”
But what if we adopted Peter’s response? “Such as I have . . .” would open many other possibilities, wouldn’t it? Whatever the situation is, there is a good chance we DO have something else to offer.
We may have time to sit and visit with someone who is lonely. Or to give a ride to someone whose car is in the shop. Perhaps we can babysit for an overwhelmed parent. The possibilities are as limitless as your imagination.
Help with cleaning and organizing. Knit a blanket; crocheting a prayer shawl. Sew a baby quilt, or do someone’s mending. Cook a meal. Decorate a play room or nursery. Offer a sympathetic ear or word of encouragement. Write a special poem or story or letter. Help to prepare for a special event.
Serve food at that event, or clean up afterward. Give someone a ride, so they can attend that event. Weekly visits to someone who doesn’t get out much any more. A phone call, to check in on someone who hasn’t been at church lately.
I could go on and on, but you get the point. There are endless ways we can offer what we have to someone in need. Often, a person’s anxiety may be greatly relieved by the simple act of praying for their situation. “Can I pray with you about that?” may very well be the most helpful thing you could say to someone.
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My point is simple. Ask the Lord to open your mind and heart to all the possibilities . . . to give you wisdom so you’ll know what’s needed. Whatever the situation is, be ready and willing to offer, “such as I have . . .”
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To His Glory . . . BJ
ALWAYS LEARNING ​
AND GROWING
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There is no doubt in my mind, whatsoever, that there is an extraordinary legacy of precious things to learn from our eldest citizens. Rest assured, that will remain the focus of this page most of the time. However, there are times when we can also learn important lessons from people who are much younger than our eldest citizens. Jack and Mary are an outstanding example of this vital truth. They aren’t much older than I, but I learn from them on an almost constant basis. It’s been going on for nearly 19 years now.
Mary’s quiet, reflective demeanor has taught me the value of slowing down long enough to really listen to what’s happening around me. Her simple, straight-forward faith has taught me wonderful new ways to envision my heavenly Father. She’s helped me see Him as the dad I hungered for most of my life.
When she taught me about “image prayers”, it completely changed the way I handle intense sadness. Following her guidance, I now know to mentally run to my Father and imagine myself crawling up into His lap when I’m profoundly troubled. There, I see myself snuggling against His chest and crying until my tears are finally spent. No word needed.
From Jack, I’ve learned the true value of letting someone help me. His passion for discipleship caused him to repeat that lesson as often as it took for me to “get it”. Now, I realize I allow them the opportunity to be blessed by helping someone.
He, too, has helped enhance my relationship with God. From Jack I’ve learned a simple truth: it’s all about relationship. I’ve heard Jack say this more times than I could possibly count. It has helped me realize that I can experience a true relationship with God. It has also caused me to more aware of relationship in many other areas of my life.
I am now more aware of how any situation in my life may be viewed by God; I try hard to make sure I don’t disappoint Him in how I handle those situations. Thanks to Jack, I recognize the value of including others in my efforts, and in my prayers. I know the true “chain of command” in my life: God, my husband, and then others.
I’ve learned how critical it is to show value and respect for my husband in all circumstances. To always build him up in front of others and be careful not to tear him down. I also now understand that there are many things in life that my sons need to know, but I cannot teach them. Jack has taught me that, as men, they must learn some things from other men.
For nearly two decades, I’ve been learning these lessons – and more – from this amazing couple. They see their life together – and everything they do – as an opportunity to minister to others. Still, I was left speechless when I read Jack’s most recent comments on the subject of ministry:
We have been given a new form of ministry to others through "Mary's Breast Cancer StoWe have been given a new form of ministry to others through "Mary's Breast Cancer Story"
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I know that God did not wake up on September 10, 2018, and say...MARY HAS BREAST CANCER??
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We feel special that God has entrusted this additional ministry to us! Mary says... "Only 1 out of 8 women get breast cancer and God chose me!"
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We have been amazed, having been "givers" all of our time in ministry, how many people would start opening up about their story and started giving to us!
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We are excited about the year to come and how God has planned our future together with Him.
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Reading that post took my breath away! What kind of faith – what kind of relationship with God – does it take for one to see a terrifying illness as a ministry opportunity? I thought I had already learned so much from these amazing, faithful servants of God. Obviously, I still have a ways to go . . .
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To His Glory . . . BJ
REMEMBERING RUBY
1-9-2019
Happy
New
Year!!!
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On Saturday, January 5, our church family gathered with Ruby’s family to say good-bye to her. Ruby left her “Earth suit” on December 17, 2018, and left an indelible mark on the world she left behind. The memory of who she was will live on in the hearts of countless people, whose ages span nearly 10 decades. Some of those impressions were shared at Saturday’s service. Because this blog was inspired by this amazing woman, I wish to share a few of those impressions with you in this space.
Ruby was loving, kind, and gentle, and she was filled with the love of God. She gladly welcomed all people into her inner circle, making them part of her extended family. The dignity I’ve written about here was evidenced to everyone who knew her. She was a woman of strong convictions who didn’t hesitate to admonish you if you were wrong. No one resented that, because it was always done with love.
Ruby was honest and straightforward in all things. Everyone I talked to after her service mentioned a variation of the same thing. You always knew what she thought of you. Each person who commented on this trait did so with great affection and admiration.
To Ruby, things were to be done a certain way. She wasn’t afraid to instruct you as to what that way was. She held fiercely to her principles, and served as an example of them to all people. To Ruby, there were two universal truths:
1) there IS a God; and 2) we aren’t Him.
At her service, Ruby’s son shared a memory of profound grace and humility she had shared with her children. A couple of years ago, she had asked their forgiveness for past behaviors. Ruby had told me about that family meeting. It had been a big load off of her mind to ask for that forgiveness. The lesson learned from this memory resonated throughout Ruby’s service: live a life of forgiveness. Have the courage to ask for forgiveness when you should.
My husband and I had the chance to visit with Ruby just days before she died. In that visit, she shared a final message for her church family – that group of faithful believers who had shared Ruby’s walk with her for over 65 years. I had told her how much her church family loved her. Her response was typical Ruby – simple and direct.
“I love them, too,” she said softly. "I never could have made it through without them and all their prayers. It meant a lot to me.”
Message received, Ruby. I’ll be sure to tell them what you said. Thank you for sharing yourself with us all these years. We love you.
To His Glory . . . BJ