Looking for Wonder

I wasn't even aware of the wonder just outside my own window.

When the phone rang that morning I was somewhere between sleep and awake, but not yet out of bed. My son-in-law was calling to let me know there was a big buck in our yard. He knew I'd think that was a thing to behold, and he was right.

Drowsy horizontal quickly turned into groggy upright and I searched the recesses of my sluggish brain to see if somewhere information regarding the whereabouts of my camera might be retrievable. Aha - the desk! By the time I removed the lens cap and slowly eased up the shade, my early visitor and his two lady friends had made it across the street, ambling ever so slowly, gracefully across the field. I got off a couple shots through the window and then carefully, ever so carefully eased open the front door to watch the beautiful creatures.

I saw a car make its way down the street and I wondered if the driver would see what I saw. He did. The 3 deer saw him, too, as they became instantly alert. But not overly alarmed, apparently, as they continued their morning munching, satisfied that no harm was imminent. Inspired by that, I grabbed my keys and jumped in my car with the hopes of obtaining a couple more close-up shots of their soulful chocolate eyes, his velvet antlers. Mister lifted his head to me as if to say, "Are you just looking?" Satisfied,  he let me look my fill and I marveled at what God had made.

I wonder how often we miss the wonder. Sometimes, as in this instance with my deer friends, we don't even know it's there. But other times, we see it so much we fail to see it. The blues and greys in the sky above, the wispy cloud fingers. My friend's quick smile. The multitudes of green in the landscape. The sparkle of diamonds in my grandson's eye.

There's a Third Day song that goes like this:

“Lord of all creation
Of water, earth, and sky
The heavens are Your tabernacle
Glory to the Lord on High.

God of wonders, beyond our galaxy
You are holy, holy
The universe declares Your majesty
You are holy, holy
Lord of heaven and earth.”

I'm grateful for unexpected wonders like my trio of early callers that morning. You can be sure I'll be on the watch for them again. I am greedy for more. But the thing is - all manner of more is all around me. I need only to look, really look. Look, and give thanks to the God of all wonders.

"Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare."  Psalm 40:5 (NIV)

The Grandest Grand Finale

Thanks, China. Who knew, back in the 7th century, that the Chinese would invent something that my family would love every 3rd and 4th of July: fireworks!

When I was a kid, it was the night of the fourth. Mom and dad would pack up their brood of four, add in some popcorn to the mix, and drive down by the river to enjoy - admittedly at a v...e...r...y slow pace - our town's holiday fireworks show. Each...shot...seemed...to...go...off...in...SLOW...motion, and we about fell asleep between each little kaboom, but it was what we had and we didn't know the difference anyway. And that finale - 3 shots in a row - woo hoo!!

When we moved to the Milwaukee area the 4th's display was on the 3rd and MUCH more of a big deal. We weren't among the diehards who went down to the Lakefront on the 2nd, staking out their camping spots in pyrotechnic anticipation. But we did pack a picnic supper and hoof it on down from a mile-away parking spot to a good watching spot late afternoon of the 3rd. (Weird!) people watching was a great way to while away the hours till show time. Worth the wait though, as that whiz bang grand display, grand finale kept our eyes popping and ears ringing long after the long trek back to the car.

Last night we chose to view a local show from the cool comfort of our car. Traditional reds and blues shimmered and sparkled up the night sky and each festive shot was followed by the query of a tiny voice, "Was that the grand finale?" "No, not yet. Soon." was the answer. Question: "Grand finale?" Answer: "No, not yet. Soon." And again. And again. And then: BOOM! BOOM! FLASH! FLASH! It WAS the grand finale and nobody needed to ask if that was it, not even the tiny voice.

Another grand finale, the grandest of the grands, is coming and there will be no doubt, no question about it when it happens. When Jesus Christ returns to this earth it will be known by everyone on earth. "And then at last, the sign that the Son of Man is coming will appear in the heavens, and there will be deep mourning among all the peoples of the earth. And they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory." Matthew 24:30 (NLT)

For hundreds of years people have thought the time was near. It appears now that it's near. But the exact time is not given us to know. We just know that it's near. That He's near. And we will not miss it: "For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God..." No, ifs, ands or buts. No more "soon." No more questions. And the most fantastic of grand finales ever.
　
　
　
　

An "Oldie but Goodie" for an "Oldie but Goodie"

June 20, 2002

Dear Dad,

On Father’s Day Pastor Chip told us his son, Ben, reminded him he needed to write a letter to his father, like he had done to his mom on Mother’s Day. Pastor said the same applied to us, and he was right.

I’m sure you’ve heard this famous Mark Twain quote: “When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned.”

It’s really quite amazing how much you have in common with Mark Twain’s father. You have gotten so much smarter and wiser than you were when I was a kid! It’s equally amazing to come to the understanding that you were always so, and this letter is to tell you exactly that.

There are many reasons why I’m grateful for you, among them:

●How industrious you always were, always working, always finishing what you started; we always knew our Dad could fix anything!

●How hard you worked, being willing to take a second job to provide for your family; how you cared for what you had and taught your children the same; how important it was not to waste what you were given (although why you and Mom insisted on even eating burned cookies – so as to not let them “go to waste” – is beyond me!)

●How patient you were, whether it was teaching a kid to drive a car or waiting for him or her to come to his or her senses!

●How you loved our mother, your kids, your country – and every furry friend whose wagging tail ever switched across your path!

Thanks, Dad. You are a great one!

Love, Barb

If there ever was a father

Who loved his daughters more

I haven’t heard of him

In all the father lore!

It is quite true that he

Never liked those messy pants

And there were the occasional

Endless wordy rants!

But this man worked so hard

To provide for his girls three

Making sure life was good

For his babies and for me!

From driving trips to all

Four corners of our land,

Baseball games and eating out

This dad was (is!) really grand!

He loves his Lord as well

And shows that love each day

As he serves and shares and gives

Trusting God for come what may.

He’s put his family first

Helping each one as they need

And never have I seen

Even a bit of selfish greed.

And so, this Father’s Day

We honor this dear man –

Bob Larson, we love you

And we’re each your biggest fan!

"Yay God! And Maybe Dad Needs a Fanny Pack!"

A woman had 10 silver coins. Maybe it was her dowry, maybe it was her family’s life savings. When she realized she had lost one of the valuable coins she turned the house upside down, sweeping and looking under ever pillow and doily until she found it. And when she did, she called all her friends and neighbors together and joyfully said to them, “Rejoice with me!  I have found my coin! “

A man had 100 sheep and one wandered off. He left the 99 and searched high and low until he located the poor lost lamb. He put it on his shoulders and with lighthearted steps made his way back home. He proclaimed to all his friends and neighbors: “Rejoice with me! I have found my lost sheep!”

Another man had a habit of misplacing his wallet. And his organizer book. He would accidentally leave one of them in a restaurant or someplace where he was absolutely sure it wasn’t. Today was one of those days. He and his wife searched the house, on shelves high and low, behind tables, under the couch. He was positive he didn’t leave it at the restaurant where they’d had breakfast, but regardless, they couldn’t check because it was a breakfast/lunch kind of place and by the time he realized the wallet was missing it was the dinner hour and the restaurant was closed. They went to the parking lot and looked, just in case.

The man was “positive” the wallet must be in his daughter’s backyard where he’d been playing fetch with the dog, and that it had somehow fallen out of his pocket. His daughter checked and no, it was not there (the possibility was considered that the wallet might have, indeed fallen out, become a chew-toy and was therefore now in myriad tiny pieces throughout the grass, but no evidence existed to prove that theory).

The man thought perhaps the wallet had popped out of his pocket onto the ground out by the riverside fishing spot, where he and his wife had earlier been looking for driftwood, so they trekked back on out there and searched. Nope, no sir-ee, no wallet. Another possibility: perhaps some kind, honest soul had found it and turned it in? Or might still yet turn it in? Off to the police station to file a missing wallet report. And the wallet was still missing.

Amazing how much praying one does when something important is lost. How much pleading. And even begging. A lost wallet can turn one’s life upside down, and inside out.  A lost wallet means cancelling credit cards. Getting a new driver’s license. Missing cash. And worst of all in this day and age –it could mean  identity theft. And the husband prayed. And the wife prayed. And the wife called the daughter to request prayer. And the wife called the other two daughters to ask for prayer, not only for the return of the wallet but for peace of mind for the man.

After all the searching hither and yon, the man and his wife returned home once more to look in all the previously looked-in, looked-at places. Maybe, just maybe the wallet would  “appear” out of a hat, like a magician’s rabbit.

It was through no magician’s “sorcery,” but the wife did, indeed, find the wallet, in a spot the man had never before put it. And if that particular spot had been checked already, she couldn’t say. But what she can say is that what was lost was found. Anxiety was replaced with relief. And joy.  And they are calling all their family and friends together to say, “Rejoice with me! What was lost is found!” Praise God. He cares unbelievably much about lost things. And a daughter said, "Yay, God! (Maybe Dad needs a fanny pack!!)"

“I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.”  Luke 15:7

The Biscuit Baker

My mother was a great biscuit maker. As a grown-up, I found out what she called “biscuits” were really “yeast rolls,” but no matter – in my mind they’ll always be biscuits. That big yellow Pyrex bowl would come out and…yum! Our mouths would start watering and we would greedily anticipate a couple (or three!) of those satisfying treats sliding down our throats in a few hours, to say nothing of their glorious baking aroma filling our noses.

Occasionally they wouldn’t “turn out,” or so she’d lament, but I can’t say we were able to tell. Or maybe it just didn’t matter, I can’t exactly remember. Biscuits were mom and we loved them. And her.

Now that I’ve dabbled in dough a bit myself, I realize that yeast rolls are not always easy-peasy. The result can depend on the weather, whether you spent enough time kneading (no dough hooks on the mixer for mom – she used her muscles) and myriad other factors. They also take time and a mother of 4 “stairsteps” just didn’t have much of that. This was also in the days before “rapid-rise” yeast – it just took its old sweet time back then. So, it dawns on me that maybe we should have told her how much I loved those biscuits – and her for making them.

No, we weren’t complete ingrates. I know we often said, “Mom – these are so good!” But I don’t think we quite “got it” that those biscuits were much more than flour and salt, yeast and water – they were love. And commitment. And determination. And hopes. And dreams. They were pastry proof that we were important gifts from a marvelous God.

While today I can whip up a decent homemade roll, in my admittedly aging and getting-more-nostalgic-by-the-day memory they don’t quite match up to Mom’s. I often don’t even bother to do the “whipping,” resorting instead to the frozen Rhodes (which do a quite passable job, if the truth be known).

They’re just not Jean’s.

How happy is everyone who fears the Lord, who walks in His ways! You will surely eat what your hands have worked for. You will be happy, and it will go well for you...May the Lord bless you from Zion, so that you will see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life, and will see your children's children. ~Psalms 128:1-2, 5-6

Happy Mother's Day!

Here’s a month of May quiz for you—see if you know what happened on the following dates:

●May 7, 1915 (The ship Lusitania was sunk during WW I)

●May 8, 1945 (VE Day—Victory in Europe, the end of WW II in Europe)            

●May 14, 1948 (Israel became an independent nation)                                                                                                ●May 16, 1974 (Barb Larson became a mother) 

Now, you may be thinking, that last May event can’t quite be considered as momentous a day as the others in the list. But, ahhh, to me it can. And is. 

On that day in what was then West Berlin, Germany, Angela Jean Larson became the fulfillment of a long-held dream, a gorgeous gift from a most loving Heavenly Father. At 7 lbs. 4 oz., she technically missed Mother’s Day that year by 4 days but began what would come to be a most welcome every-day-is-mother’s-day for me.

Angie was my mother’s first grandchild. Those thousands of miles between her home in Wisconsin and Angie’s in Europe (courtesy of the US Army) made my skittish “I can’t possibly get on a plane and fly anywhere” mother into a very brave woman. She persuaded her mother, then about 76 or so, to accompany her “across the pond” and up six flights of stairs (no elevator) to see this new miracle of life. I remember like yesterday watching my mom catch her first glimpse of her first grandchild. Tears streaming down her face, she grabbed my child from my arms and clutched the babe in hers. I was not at all sure she was going to ever give her back!  

In May 2002 our pastor assigned the congregation a task: write a letter to your mother, telling why you’re grateful she was yours.  Here’s part of what I wrote: “I’m sure you’ve heard the old Jewish proverb, “God could not be everywhere so He created mothers.” Well, we know that’s not true, for God is everywhere; He created mothers to help demonstrate His love, to be His hands, to show His care. You have done that for your children.

Because of you, your children came to know Christ. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to take us to church alone every week. While Dad supported you in your resolve, it was you who had to get us all up, not listen to any excuses and get us there on time each week. We knew that was where we belonged, that unless we were too sick to stand we were getting up and going! And I thank you for that.

Thank you, too, for not just letting Jesus show on Sunday morning, but during the rest of the week as well. Certain principles like respecting other people’s property, the need for truth telling and working at a task until completion are important to me because you demonstrated that importance to you.”  

I hope I’ve let “Jesus show” to my first Mother’s Day gift and to the 2 precious gifts who followed. I pray they can say of their mom, “Her children rise up and call her blessed,” (Proverbs 31) as I do of mine.

Happy Mother’s Day!