What Mother Said

Today, September 27, 2012 is my mother's 88th birthday. If she's having cake to celebrate, though, we won't get to share it with her because she's having a party in heaven (just imagine what a "heavenly" cake, if there is such a thing, would taste like!).

I marked her birthday by guest speaking at Lake Country Christian Academy's chapel this morning. The school is in the midst of learning lessons about leadership. Today we talked about leaders in the home, and since it was Mom's birthday, we talked about her - and her "sayings."

One of those "sayings," which my siblings & I heard quite frequently, was "we're going." Both my mother’s parents were believers in Jesus Christ. When mom was a young girl she asked Jesus to forgive her sins and come into her life as her Personal Savior. She loved to read her Bible and knew that God had placed His truth and His help in there for all of us to read and follow. As a good leader, she reminded her kids that they needed to read and follow it, too. She and my dad, even though he didn’t become a Christian until he was about the age I am now, made sure we went to a church that taught from the Bible about Jesus. My brothers and sister and I didn’t get to say whether or not we wanted to go to Sunday School and church on Sunday. We “were going!”  Unless you were really, really sick, you were in church on Sunday morning. We regularly went to our kids’ groups during the week, too. My mother knew we needed to be there to learn about God and what He wanted us to know. It was important.  She knew the Bible says in Hebrews 10:25, “Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing.” 
 

Another thing my mom said was “be nice to others.” She and Dr. Luke in the Bible reminded us to “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” If you didn’t want someone to treat you a certain way, then you shouldn’t treat them like that, either. Galatians 6:10 says, “Let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.”

My mother often said, “watch your mouth.” Did she mean go watch yourself talking in the mirror? She did not. It says in Ephesians 4:25 “Therefore, each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to his neighbor.” And when I was a little girl, we knew we’d better speak truthfully to our mother, too. She always seemed to know when we were lying, anyway, and there was always a punishment if we lied. “Watch your mouth” didn’t just mean no lying – it also meant no swearing or coarse or disrespectful talk. She would remind us about Ephesians 4:29: “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs.” If I heard it once I heard it at least a thousand times “If you can’t say anything nice,”...say it with me...“Don’t say anything at all.”

Do you hear the words “behave yourself” very often? We did. Sometimes we heard it when we weren’t following the rules and sometimes as a warning that we had better. She knew that we knew the Bible warned us to “Be very careful, then, how you live – not as unwise but wise.”

Another "momism" was “if it’s not yours, leave it alone.” My mom had a story about her cousin’s purse. Mom really, really liked it. And she really, really wanted it. So, one day when no one was looking, she took it. Yup, she stole it. She couldn’t very well actually use it because everyone would know it wasn’t hers. So she hid it behind her dresser. Every once in a while she would go take a peek at it.  And you can probably figure out what happened. One day her mother found it and my mother got in a heap of trouble. Her mother, my grandma, was a good leader, too, and she made my mom return the purse. My mom says she never stole anything again. She remembered that it says in Ephesians 28, “He who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with his own hands.”

And then there was “work won’t hurt you.” We sometimes thought it very well might. Do you like to stay sleeping in your bed on Saturday mornings? We didn’t get to. There would be knocking on our bedroom doors “Get up! Get up! There are jobs to be done!” Though I didn’t like it then and still don’t much like to clean bathrooms or dust tabletops now, my mom and my dad were teaching us that work is important and that everyone has to work. And that it says in Colossians 3:23, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men.” When we do our work we are not really doing it for our teachers or our parents or our bosses, but we are doing it for God Himself. That should change our attitudes!

There are more sayings, but here's one last one: “be thankful for what you have.” My mom was born in 1924. She and my dad experienced what is known in history as “The Great Depression.” That was a time when many people didn’t have jobs or money. They went without a lot of things; they used things until they completely wore out and when they did get something, it was often used, not new. That experience made my parents grateful for what they had and it was important to them that they teach gratefulness to their own kids. We learned to be thankful for black and white TV (and only 3 channels!) even though some people did have color TV when I was young. When we begged my parents to get an air conditioner in the summer, my dad said that he and my mom always got along without air conditioning when they were young and we could, too! I do have color TV now and I have air conditioning, and I am grateful for both! I Thessalonians 5:16: “Be joyful always, pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

I am thankful for the leader that my mother was. She wasn’t a perfect leader, but she knew the Perfect Leader; she knew Jesus. And she tried to lead her children along the right path, the path to Jesus. She was a good example to follow.

Here’s a poem I wrote about my leader mother. It’s called

Things My Mother Taught Me:

My mommy taught me to be kind,                                     
To listen well and always mind.                                                                                           She said that I should share my toys                                                                                   And to play nicely with the girls and boys.

My mama taught me to try hard in school,

To learn my lessons and obey each rule.

She said I should put others first

And to speak nicely, not hear that I‘d cursed.

My mom taught me to “behave myself,”

To conserve, use up all on the shelf.

She said I should be wise with friends

And to accept whatever God sends.

My mother taught me to love my man,

To treat him with respect as best I can.

She said I should love real hard on my kids

And try not to mind when they “flipped their lids.”

Mom’s now in heaven, her life on earth done,

She did a good job with each girl and each son.

She taught us all what was important to know,

Our mommy, our mama, mom, mother and so!

 

 

 

My Grandma Olson

"What children need most are the essentials that grandparents provide in abundance. They give unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life. And, most importantly, cookies." ~Rudolph Giuliani


My grandma gave us bread. Fresh, homemade, straight-from-the-oven yeasty warm bread. Even today when I think of my Grandma's house, I smell bread. If you've never breathed in that delectable aroma, I'm sorry for you because it is heaven on earth. She made pretty good donuts, too, but it's the bread that brings me back to Milaca, Minnesota where my Grandma lived.

Today, September 9, 2012 is Grandparent's Day. Celebrated the first Sunday after Labor Day, President Jimmy Carter signed a proclamation to that effect in 1978 after Marian McQuade, a West Virginia grandmother, campaigned for a national holiday to honor grandparents. I was shocked when I learned the holiday had been around that long. My grandma was still around then (she passed in 1986) and I don't think I was ever able to honor my only grandparent with a "Happy Grandparent's Day." But I love the idea - most of us need all the little "pushes" that come our way to remind us to let our loved ones know we love them - and why.

My siblings and I grew up in southern Wisconsin. If I remember correctly, we went up to Minnesota to see Grandma pretty much once a year and she traveled down to see us every year. She'd come on the train and it was such fun to go meet her at the depot that still existed then. Since she wasn't able to be the "every day" kind of grandma, she was somewhat of an "exotic being" to us. (My mom's mom, Grandma Olson was the only granparent we ever knew; both my dad's parents and my mother's father were dead before my parents' marriage.)

My daughter, Emily, assigned her second graders to journal about their grandparents this weekend; she thought it was only right that she do so, too. She wrote: "My grandparents were great! 1. My grandpa raised my dad right. 2. My grandma made me a Cubs fan. (no jokes please!) 3. My grandpa could fix anything. 4. My grandma gave me the desire to sew."

So, that got me thinking, too, and this is what I remember about my Grandma, Lillian Marie Peterson Olson:
1) She loved Jesus, her Bible and her church. She was a Godly woman who walked daily with her Lord and Savior and I'm grateful for the wonderful Christian heritage that is mine because of her.

2) She loved her family. A mother of seven (4 girls and 3 boys), she was a farm wife and a one-room schoolteacher. Her husband passed away at age 49; one of her daughters also died young, at age 18 - just a few days after my birth. Grandma didn't become bitter, though, only better. She was adventurous, too. In 1974 Grandma accompanied her oldest daughter, my mother, on a month-long trip to see her oldest daughter (me) and brand new baby daughter (Angie) in what was then West Berlin, Germany. Neither woman was a world traveler and Grandma was in her 70's by then. We lived on the 6th floor (no elevator), had no car and it was 6 blocks to the subway or 6 to the bus.

3) She was an artist, dabbling in oil painting and water colors. (What a choice of words, "dabbling!" I should be able to "dabble so well!). On my list of treasures to grab on the way out the door, should my house ever be about to be caught in a wildfire (always a possibility in SW Montana), are my 4 Grandma Olson paintings and her hand-painted wooden plate and spoon, emblazoned with the Swedish words "Give us our daily bread."

4) She was a writer, of Bible studies, a play or two and lots of poems, many of which I've read. She was very wise, and very clever with words. (I remember her speaking chilling, "spooky" words one fun Halloween as she passed around "guts" (cold spaghetti) and "eyeballs" (slimy grapes)

5) She was a patient, tolerant woman - until our piano banging on her closed-in porch just got to be too much and she asked us to not stop, but "quiet down, just a little." She expected us to listen and obey, and I think we did. At least until the next time she had to say it!

6) She was generous, both with her worldly goods (and their weren't many of those) and her love. For many years, without fail, each of her 25 grandchildren could expect a birthday card with a dollar tucked inside. Christmas brought a dollar for each as well. You could buy more with a dollar in the 50's & 60's than you can today, but you certainly couldn't buy any more love. And whether you were a Minnesota grandkid, and got the blessing of her physical presence more often than the Wisconsin or Indiana ones, it didn't matter. You knew you were loved.

Grandma Olson knew how to be a good grandma. She stands today as my example in grandparenting. I'm looking forward to a heavenly chat with her one day about this very subject. I hope I pass! Happy Grandparent's Day, Grandma!
　
　

BIG LOGS

If you were to ask me if I thought I was a better person than others, for sure I’d tell you no. But there was an incident the other night that made me think that maybe I’m not as perfect as I must have thought I was. That though Christ has been working on me for 50-some-odd years now, He’s still got lots to do.

Over the 40 years of  our marriage my husband has gifted me with several pieces of beautiful fine jewelry. Our jeweler friend thought that an appraisal would be appropriate and we complied. One necklace didn’t get included and was scheduled to be brought in to the store at a later date. Last night I went to get it and it wasn’t to be found. Not anywhere I looked. It wasn’t anywhere my husband looked. Really, it was not. (Not even in the garbage or in the recycling bin—yes, he patiently looked even there.)

The search went on for a couple hours. I retraced my steps. I imagined scenarios. “If I had been here, maybe I would have done such-and-such.” And let me just say that when I have misplaced something, I can’t seem to turn my mind off about it. I go ‘round and ‘round, rethinking and reimagining and relooking–the proverbial dog-with-a-bone scenario. I asked God to help  with the search, to help me remember where I might have put it. Frustration mounted as I recalled an incident earlier in the summer when we were involved in another search—this time for my husband’s wallet. I had been helpful, but oh-so-smug, now that I thought about it. “You know, if you’d just put your things in the same place each time when you were finished with them this wouldn’t keep happening," I remember saying (‘cause, well, you know, it kind of does keep happening!). It was as if that Barb  then was reminding this Barb now, “You know, if you’d just…”

Yes. Clearly I needed to be more careful. More organized. And a lot, lot less judgmental. Jesus knew how we were. How I am. Remember the “specks and logs” He talked about in Matthew 7?  “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce, you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?”

The necklace? I found it, in a very odd place. Perhaps I’d have found it sooner, but for the big log in my eye.

Labors of Love

LABORS OF LOVE

“I am planning on being an inventor when I grow up,” said my oldest grandson. “And a firefighter.” Keeping it the family, his younger brother concurred. “I’m being a firefighter, too.” This Nana has no doubt—in the coming years we’ll be well protected and also well supplied with much needed new inventions!

 

From an early age we are asked  “what we want to be when we grow up.” We seem to instinctively know that there will be a work life after we’re done being a kid and we answer the question with occupations we know about, like nurse or doctor or teacher or firefighter.

 

What we don’t know is the labor that will be involved in our future occupation (or even in the amount of work it will take to educate ourselves in order to get to do the job we want to have). As we get older we hope that whatever we will “be” will be something we like to do and something we are really good at doing. For as Aristotle once said, “Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work.” The Bible agrees: “So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work because that is their lot.” (Ecclesiastes 3:22)

 

Work is celebrated in the United States the first Monday in September. Known as “Labor Day,” it was first commemorated on a Tuesday—September 5, 1882 in New York City and was created by the labor movement to honor the social and economic achievements of American workers. On June 28, 1894 the US Congress officially adopted the day, making each first September Monday a legal holiday.

 

Originally, Labor Day was to include parades, festivals and speeches, all exhibiting the strength and value of labor organizations. Much of this still occurs, but just as often it is now known as the “last hurrah of summer,” a time when families head out of town one more time before school starts or enjoy a final summertime picnic or party.

 

However Labor Day is celebrated, it’s great when our work is celebrated each and every day we labor, for when we have chosen a job we love, “we never have to work a day in (our) life.” (Confucius). And loving our job has a lot to do with our attitude—whether we try hard, toil hard—and appreciate much.

 

The Apostle Paul gave us all good advice when he wrote, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” (Colossians 3:23) Labor on!

 

 

Recently a good friend fell down in a public place and I feared she was quite embarrassed (though bumped and bruised, she was OK). In an effort to assure her that many of us have this malady, I share a piece here that I wrote many years ago. Sadly, not much has changed - while on a walk a few weeks ago I was splayed out on the sidewalk near my home, having tripped over a...a...well, OK, over not much of anything. Enjoy, even if you're not my daughters.

COMEDY CENTRAL, MOM-STYLE

Moshe Waldoks (Who? I don’t really know who he might be but I do know he was right about one thing) said “A sense of humor can help you overlook the unattractive, tolerate the unpleasant, cope with the unexpected and smile through the unbearable.” Unfortunately, there are a lot of us like the folks author/speaker Garrison Keillor describes: “God writes a lot of comedy…the trouble is, He’s stuck with so many bad actors who don’t know how to play funny.”

That would be me. My husband has often said I do not have a sense of humor. (I actually suspect it’s just that I do not have his!) But it is true I have a little difficulty laughing at life’s ups and downs – especially my downs, my falling downs, in particular.

No, I do not have an inner ear problem or weak ankles or anything of that nature. Objects simply appear in my path that were not part of my plan. And that proves to be a bit of comic relief for my daughters.

After I tipped over onto the floor in a local Walmart aisle while trying to see some bottom shelf prices (40-somethings just can’t squat like they used to), tripped over a mop handle while working at McDonald’s and fell into a (really!) well-concealed hole on Sea World’s lawn my girls were so concerned. “Did anyone see you?” they gasped. At least I think that’s what they said. It was quite hard to tell amidst all the giggling.

Mom, the “techno queen,” is also a good source for a laugh. The daughters won’t even let me near the VCR remotes anymore. (Why are remotes all different anyway – is there a Nobel Prize for electronic creativity?) Eyeballs roll as I frantically attempt to push the “pause” while the TV characters run on in fast forward. And the rewind button? Much too close to the “stop.” Well, maybe I like watching the same part of the tape over and over again, did they ever think of that?

Want a good picker-upper? Try watching me find my car in a parking lot. I have been known to insert my key in the door of my car, all the while wondering what all that baby stuff was doing in my back seat (it’s been a long time since we had a baby, mind you). And that startled man waiting for his wife at Target’s door? He must have been quite perplexed when an unknown-to-him female entered his van calling him “Bob” while three young ladies stood by, doubled over with glee.

We won’t even go into my “ability” to distinguish the difference between the men’s and women’s public restrooms. (You know, really, the lines at the women’s lavatories are always so long, anyway.)

All this used to upset me. Part of me did know it really was amusing, but I just could not laugh at it. I was annoyed that others were “laughing at me.” (But, come on – how could they help it?) I didn’t know how to “play funny.” Slowly I am learning to not take everything quite so seriously, remembering the Proverb “a happy heart makes the face cheerful” and that “a cheerful heart has a continual feast.” At this rate, I’ll have no trouble providing a perpetual family banquet!

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.