Author: Patsy Kuipers

We shall be whiter than snow

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Introduction: I am a member of Grace Covenant PCA, a church planted by Midway PCA, the church I belonged to for many years after we moved to Georgia. I enjoy attending women’s events at Midway where my daughter Mary and her family as well as many long-time friends are still members. I was privileged to be asked to bring the devotion for this year’s Christmas event. img_2643

In spite of my best intentions to turn the contents of the devotion into a pre-Christmas blog post, holiday preparations as well as numerous family celebrations kept me from doing so . . . until now. This post is longer than usual so I invite you to pour a cup of your favorite coffee or tea and spend a few quiet minutes contemplating Jesus, our Lord and Savior, the most precious gift ever given.

As always, thank you for reading along. May God bless you and yours in the coming year.

(The following has been modified to more appropriately fit this setting and timing.)

Imagine my surprise and delight at being asked to bring the devotion for the women’s Christmas event at Midway, an event I look forward to attending each year. Upon agreeing to be the guest speaker, I asked Wanda, the woman who contacted me, about the theme for the event. When she replied, “We shall be whiter than snow”, I thought, “Good! I can work with that! There’s a Christmas-y tie in even if we rarely ever get snow on December 25th here in Georgia. Then, near the end of our conversation, Wanda added, “We’ve also been talking about unity in the church.” Uh oh. That topic could be a bit stickier. I could step on some toes with that one. I could even step on my toes. In the week I had to prepare, I prayerfully considered the topics before me, hoping the message would honor God, as well as be an encouragement to all of us gathered that evening.

In thinking about unity, I found it easier to start by pondering what creates disunity.[1] Misunderstandings, taking sides, judging, assuming – these are just some of the things that come to mind when I think of sources of friction and disharmony in congregations and relationships in general. I think it’s safe to say all of us have been a part of or witnessed situations where these dynamics come into play. Someone hurts someone else’s feelings and the two people become cross with each other. Instead of working it out they tell others. Before you know it sides form, with supporters in each camp assuming the worst of the other side. Often judgements are based on very little information, other than that provided by the offended party which is no doubt embellished as it gets told and retold by ones not directly involved.

Scripture gives us clear guidance on how we’re to conduct interpersonal relationships. As presented in Matthew 18:15-17, Jesus outlines the process to follow if a brother offends you. Though this passage provides basis for church discipline, it begins with, “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone.” (Emphasis mine.) Ephesians 4:26 reminds us to not let the sun go down on our anger. Disagreements should be dealt with quickly so hard feelings won’t fester. As part of his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus admonished his listeners (and us) not to judge lest we be judged, to be more concerned about the log in our own eye than the speck in our brother’s.[2] And what about the ninth commandment which tells us not to bear false witness against our neighbor? Given Jesus’ “heart of the matter” approach to adultery and murder[3] isn’t it reasonable to consider gossip to be bearing false witness?

Work out your differences directly with those who’ve offended you and do so quickly. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. Don’t judge. Don’t gossip.

Yet we can make it even simpler. These rules (and others) for harmonious relationships can be boiled down to the Golden Rule and the second greatest command, “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”[4] and “love your neighbor as yourself”[5], respectively. Being with my grandchildren on a regular basis is always a blessing, but sometimes a challenge. As much as I love them, children will be children. “Do unto others” has become an oft-repeated phrase, as in, “Joshua, would you like it if I hit you? No? Well then don’t hit your sister. Do unto others!” And so it is with me. As I’ve repeatedly re-enforced this concept with Joshua, my heavenly Father has reminded me to do as I say. When I’m tempted to judge or assume or gossip, “do unto others” often brings me up short.

So let’s turn back to our theme. The phrase “whiter than snow” appears in Psalm 51, David’s psalm of repentance, his cry for forgiveness after Nathan had confronted him about his sin with Bathsheba.[6] David was God’s chosen king. Scripture refers to him as a man after God’s own heart yet he committed adultery and murder, probably the furthest things from his mind the night he went up to the roof of the palace to get some air. His first mistake was not being where he should have been – with his troops. 1 Samuel 11:1 tells us: “In the spring, at the time when kings go off to war, David sent Joab out with the king’s men and the whole Israelite army . . . But David remained in Jerusalem.” David’s behavior is a sobering reminder that any of us can be led astray, step by step, if we make poor choices and give in to temptation.

As long as we’re in the flesh, we’ll sin, but as believers, we’re no longer slaves to sin[7], nor will God ever let go[8] or lose sight of[9] one of his children. In fact, God promises to provide a way out when we’re tempted[10] and, when we confess our sins, He is faithful to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness[11], to wash us whiter than snow. Times of wandering and restoration in my own life have humbled me. They remind me I have no grounds to judge others. Without Jesus’ atoning sacrifice, I would be totally, eternally lost.

Isaiah 53 is one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. This Messianic passage paints a vivid portrait of the suffering Savior. When I read verse 5, I usually personalize it: “But he was wounded for my transgressions; he was crushed for my iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought me peace, and by his stripes I am healed.” It brings things into clear perspective. Nothing in my hands I bring. Simply to his cross I cling.

In addition to our sinful natures, we all carry burdens and grief known only to God and a trusted few who are closest to us. When the load becomes particularly heavy, our stress may manifest itself in a number of ways – sadness, irritability, withdrawal from normal activities – things that could lead others to draw all sorts of conclusions, assume the worst or possibly even take offense over something that has nothing at all to do with them. Instead of indulging in such presumptions, may we choose to “do unto others”. At the very least, we can give the other person the benefit of the doubt and we can pray for discernment on how to reach out. In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul referred to the church as a body with different parts, each having an important role to play in the well-being of the whole. Furthermore, he said there should be no division in the body of believers and called us to rejoice with those who rejoice and suffer with those who suffer.[12]

At this point I’m sure some of my listeners may have been thinking, “This isn’t much of a Christmas message.” Possibly some of you are thinking the same. After all, we usually focus on the Baby in the manger, multitudes of angels singing, the new star in the sky, shepherds looking on in wonder. But if that baby hadn’t grown up to be the man of sorrows, who took our sins upon himself, was crucified, dead and buried and rose again on the third day, we would be most to be pitied, as Paul pointed out to the Corinthians. However, as Paul went on to affirm, Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.[13]

As we look forward to a new year, let us celebrate the entire life of our Savior who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Philippians 2:6-11)

Where should our unity come from? From recognizing we’re sinners, saved by grace, a free gift from God that leaves no room for boasting or judging or looking down on others.[14] Instead, all power, wealth, wisdom, might, honor, glory and blessing belong to the Lamb.[15]  It’s all about Him.

According to Isaiah 1:18, the matter is settled. For those who’ve been cleansed by the precious blood of the spotless Lamb, “though their sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.” Good news. News worth celebrating and rejoicing over and telling others.

And as we do so, may we humbly extend to them the forgiveness and compassion shown to us by the One who has washed us whiter than snow.

[1] Yes, “disunity” is a word, as is “disharmony”!

[2] Matthew 7:1-5, Luke 6:37-38

[3] Matthew 5:21-30

[4] Matthew 7:12

[5] Matthew 22:37-39

[6] 2 Samuel 12:1-10

[7] Romans 6:1-23

[8] John 10:27-29

[9] Psalm 34:15

[10] 1 Corinthians 10:13

[11] 1 John 1:9

[12] 1 Corinthians 12:24b-26

[13] 1 Corinthians 15:12-28

[14] Ephesians 2:8-9

[15] Revelation 5:12

It’s all in the details

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

1989 was an important year. On August 9th a baby girl joined our family. A few months later Ray gave me several pieces of Department 56’s Dickens’ Village and one of my most cherished Christmas traditions began. Not that I equate the importance of daughter Jessie’s arrival with an assortment of ceramic buildings and accessories, but it helps me keep track of how long Dickens has been part of my Christmas celebration.

As long as Ray was alive, he would creatively set up the village and add to the collection every December, usually giving me several pieces for my birthday and/or Christmas. He also started a set for my mom. After he passed away in April 1997, I came across a number of Dickens items boxed up in the basement. No doubt Ray had taken advantage of post-holiday sales, purchasing gifts for the next season. I gave some to Mom and kept the rest for myself, surmising Ray intended to divide his stash between the two of us.

Although I’m a fairly frugal person, my family will attest to the fact I have two weaknesses when it comes to buying: my village and plants. (They’ve also assured me there could be worse things when it comes to non-essential spending and are supportive of my relatively innocuous addictions!) During my travels, I found a small store that no longer planned to carry Dickens’ Village. They were having a “buy one get one free” sale to clear out their inventory. Of course I had to help them do so. That year the village gained a whole new suburb.

img_2464When I choose pieces to add, I usually look for ones I can connect with. This year’s additions include “First Christmas Eve Service” (for baby Emma), “Letters to Santa” (a Victorian version of granddaughter Lyla) and “Lovebirds” (‘nuff said).

Two birthdays ago, Mom gave me her entire collection. She said she’d enjoy it more if I combined it with mine. More suburbs appeared. The village now fills three rooms and requires many hours of assembly across several days.

Nonetheless, I always look forward to unpacking the village and getting reacquainted with the various pieces as construction progresses. Inevitably the initial opening of boxes is accompanied by bittersweet tears. So many memories. So many Christmases without Ray. And every year I pray he might somehow know how much joy the village has brought me; how thankful I am he started it for me.

This morning was no different. I was crying intermittently as I opened first one box, then another, when my phone chimed to signal an incoming text. I’d been corresponding with my daughters and several friends throughout the morning, exchanging thankful notes about the much-needed rain we received overnight and sharing Christmas plans. I supposed someone was continuing one of those conversations. I was amazed when I saw instead a text from a friend who’s on staff at Smith-Gilbert Gardens. img_2461She’d sent two pictures of a Japanese maple I donated to the Gardens in memory of Ray. In spite of the cloudy day, it shone forth in all its fall splendor. Planted on April 19, 2013, the sixteenth anniversary of Ray’s Homegoing, the tree sits at the edge of the Koi pond, one of grandson Joshua’s favorite places at SGG.

Stefanie had no way of knowing how much those photos would mean to me at that moment, but God did. He knows us intimately – every hurt, every hope, every reminiscence. Like the loving Father he is, he gives us good and perfect gifts.[1] Seeing those photos of the little tree decked out in its gloriously colorful leaves provided assurance of both an ongoing connection and a future reunion.

Not only does God tenderly meet our needs, his timing is always impeccable. Over 2,000 years ago, after hundreds of years of silence, He sent the perfect gift for all time, the One we needed most[2], the Baby in the manger.

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace[3].

As we go through this Advent season, may we rejoice, for the One through whom all things were made[4] humbled himself, took on flesh and came as Savior[5]. He cares about every detail of our lives and will graciously guide and provide for us[6] until he returns as King to gather us to himself.

Immanuel . . . God with us . . . for all time.[7]

[1] James 1:17

[2] John 3:16-17

[3] Isaiah 9:6b

[4] John 1:3a

[5] Philippians 2:8

[6] Matthew 7:7-11

[7] Matthew 1:23

Contentment

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

The dictionary defines contentment as a state of happiness and satisfaction. Synonyms include gratification, fulfillment, and serenity. In Philippians, the Apostle Paul said he had learned to be content in all situations, whether facing plenty or hunger, abundance or need.[1] When I think of contentment, I think of Aunt Mary Kate.

Born June 4, 1903, the youngest sibling and only sister of my beloved grandfather[2], Mary Kate Phillips was much like her older brother. Slight of build and grounded in her faith, her big heart overflowed with love for others, especially her family. By the world’s standards, she was poor and most likely would have met the government’s criteria for poverty. She lived in a small 3-room house comprised of a sitting area, bedroom and kitchen, a stone’s throw from the house she was born in. For much of her life, she didn’t have running water or an indoor bathroom. I don’t know if she ever traveled outside North Carolina. Aunt Mary Kate was just shy of her 44th birthday when she lost her husband suddenly one night, presumably to a stroke. She lived alone for almost 50 years afterwards, choosing not to remarry.

My initial memories of Aunt Mary Kate date back to when my grandfather was alive. We’d sometimes cut through the field on our way to or from the post office so we could pay her a visit. But my most cherished memories came later. Early in my career, I worked a two-year stint in tech marketing. I was still living in Delaware at the time and most of my customers were located in North and South Carolina. Aunt Mary Kate and a number of other relatives were conveniently positioned between the Raleigh-Durham airport and a carpet mill I called on in Aberdeen, NC. As you might imagine, I tried to fit in visits with my kinfolks as often as possible. Although I got to see her at other times over the years, the one-on-one conversations during business trip stop-overs were among the best.

Aunt Mary Kate was always delighted to see me and welcomed me into her tiny dwelling with a big smile and a warm hug. The walls of her sitting room were lined with photos of family members. She’d take time to tell me about first one and then another, beaming with pride as she recounted accomplishments or pointed out new babies.

img_2375

Probably the most beautiful of Aunt Mary Kate’s material possessions. She wanted her namesake, my daughter Mary, to have it.

 

Based on her demeanor, you would have thought she lived in luxury, lacking nothing in terms of worldly comforts, but that was far from the case. Yet my mom attests to the fact she never heard her complain, in spite of her meager means and being widowed so young and losing a beloved 18-year old great-grandson to an auto accident.

Though I’m sure she had moments of doubt and great sorrow, I never heard her grumble either, hence I always think of Aunt Mary Kate when asked for an example of contentment. Because contentment is about what’s on the inside. It’s not about our surroundings or our circumstances or the value of our possessions. Nor is it an emotion. “It’s a state of being, anchored firmly in the confidence that God is sovereignly working out the details of our lives, moment by moment from beginning to end.”[3] That’s why Paul could say he’d learned to be content in any and every situation – the reason for his hope and the guarantee of his well-being, both temporal and eternal, rested in One who never changes.[4] The same One Aunt Mary Kate loved and trusted.

I believe thankfulness is a key component of contentment. Sometimes I’d stop by the small general store near Aunt Mary Kate’s house and pick up a Co-cola and a moon pie for her. If you’d seen her smile and heard her expressions of gratitude, you would have thought I’d given her something much more expensive. But the love given and received in those exchanges made the gift priceless. It’s a love that still touches me today and led me to name my firstborn after this dear, godly woman.[5]

img_2382

Aunt Mary Kate, 84, holding baby Mary, her 9-month old namesake. Taken August 2, 1987 on the porch of Aunt Mary Kate’s home.

 

 

I like to imagine visiting Aunt Mary Kate’s heavenly abode. I hope it will have a porch and a couple of rocking chairs where we can sit together. I look forward to seeing her sweet smile again. I know I will for Jesus has gone ahead to prepare a place for us and has promised to return and gather us to himself, FOREVER. [6]

In the meantime, may we be content, rejoicing always, praying continually and giving thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for us in Christ Jesus,[7] the One in whom all God’s promises are “Yes”.[8]

 

[1] Philippians 4:11-12

[2] See “Eating apples”, in Archives, October 2015

[3] Pastor Ben Duncan, Grace Covenant PCA, Dallas, GA, sermon “The Secret of Contentment”, July, 17, 2016

[4] Hebrews 13:8

[5] My daughter, Mary Elizabeth, is named after Aunt Mary Kate and my sister, Mary Jeannette, who died in infancy.

[6] John 14:2-3

[7] 1 Thessalonians 5:15-18

[8] 2 Corinthians 1:20

Father knows best, take 2

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First-time obedience – it’s something we strive for and long for in our children, be they toddlers or teenagers. As we try to shape them into responsible, caring human beings we establish rules and enforce boundaries, preferably in a consistent and loving way. But oh do they ever push the limits. There are times when we even wonder if our children may be suffering from temporary hearing loss. We repeat our instructions over and over, frequently increasing our volume with each repetition.

Often our rules are meant to keep our children safe. For instance, we know the dangers of running in front of a car, playing with knives and sticking keys in electrical outlets, thus we warn them. At other times we try to help them learn how to play well with others. Hitting someone because you’re angry they took your “favorite” toy (which you may or may not have looked at for days) is not advisable, at least if you want the person to be favorably disposed to your presence. Likewise, cutting your sister’s hair, “so she can see better”, without asking Mommy first will more than likely result in your scissors being kept out of your reach.

Parenting is not for the faint of heart for MANY reasons, guiding and disciplining day in and day out being near the top of the list. After raising my daughters, I now have the opportunity to come alongside Mary and Justin to help them bring up their three little ones. img_1950Though it’s tempting to take the easy route and fall into the role of indulgent grandmother, I know it wouldn’t do any of us any favors, least of all the children. Hence I adhere to the house rules, sometimes stating, “Mommy (or Daddy) says . . . ”, to reinforce the idea of obedience even when they’re not present.

Several months ago, after I’d repeatedly asked Joshua to stop engaging in some now-forgotten misbehavior, I thought, “I just wish he’d obey the first time!” Almost immediately, a still, small Voice spoke to my heart: “What about you? Do you always obey the first time?” The question pierced me to the core because the honest answer was, “No, Lord. I don’t.”

Occasionally, like Eve, I let myself be led astray by “Did God really say?” thinking.[1] Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe it would be ok to run a quick test, just to be sure. A while back, I left Joshua unsupervised for a few moments while I tended to his sister. He appeared with a sheepish look and a small cut on his finger. Even though we’d told him again and again knives are off limits because they’re sharp, he decided to check it out for himself. I can relate.

At other times my disobedience is more willful. I rationalize that given the circumstances, my behavior is ok, at least “this once”. Yet try as I might, I’ve never found a footnote anywhere in the Bible exempting me from God’s commands. Moreover, rationalization is a slippery slope which can lead us further and further away from who we want to be. King David is a prime example. It all started when he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Yet committing murder was probably the furthest thing from his mind when he went up on the roof of the palace to get some fresh air. Nonetheless one poor decision led to another until he not only arranged to have an innocent man die, but he lied and committed adultery as well.[2] This is a sobering story indeed considering David was God’s chosen king,[3] described as a man after God’s own heart.[4]

Knowing our weaknesses, God promises to provide a way out when we’re tempted.[5] Even so, we don’t always avail ourselves of his provision. And when we don’t, when we decide to go our own way, He disciplines us. Not because He wants to squash our fun or limit our self-expression as our children sometimes accuse us of, but because He loves us.[6] We are fearfully and wonderfully made in his image[7] and He knows what’s best. His rules and boundaries are there to protect us.

Over the years, my mom has said countless times, “A self-learned lesson is the best.” As much as I’d like to shield my children and grandchildren from harm, I realize consequences are sometimes the ideal teacher, at least when we learn from our experiences. It is much the same with me and my heavenly Father. He frequently uses the pain caused by my disobedience to draw me back to himself. I have learned I cannot live a life which satisfies myself if I do not live a life which is satisfying to God.[8] To be sure, most of the pain comes from a sense of disappointing Him which in turn leads to a rueful desire to hide, like Adam and Eve.[9] I rejoice in the fact my Father never lets go or loses sight of me, even when I wander. It’s impossible to hide. Indeed He seeks me out. His discipline confirms I am his daughter[10] and his loving arms are always open to welcome me back. The peace and joy that come with restoration are priceless.[11]

Let us not lose heart as we raise the children entrusted to us. May we be wise as we set boundaries, consistent when discipline is called for, and steadfast as we assure them of our love. In so doing, we will give them a glimpse of the Father who loves them even more than we do.

[1] Genesis 3:1

[2] The full account is found in 2 Samuel 11

[3] 1 Samuel 16:1

[4] 1 Samuel 13:14

[5] 1 Corinthians 10:13

[6] Hebrews 12:6

[7] Psalm 139:14, Genesis 1:26a

[8] The Valley of Vision, Arthur Bennett, The Banner of Truth Trust, 1975, p. 166

[9] Genesis 3:8

[10] Hebrews 12:7-8

[11] Hebrews 12:11

From beginning to end

/ Patsy Kuipers / 1 Comment

Sunday before last, I had the privilege of attending two special services. That morning I watched as my 7-month old granddaughter, Emma, was baptized.img_2017 Four generations were present as her parents vowed to bring her up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.[1] As the congregation promised to come alongside Mary and Justin as they raise Emma, I prayed she won’t be able to remember a day when she doesn’t know God loves her. I made a similar supplication when my daughters and other grandchildren were baptized, for there is no greater assurance than knowing you’re a child of the King.[2]

Later that day, I attended the memorial service for the mother of my dear friend, Susan Hunt. Mrs. Mac, as most affectionately referred to her, was 99 years old when she was called Home. She was ready. Her health had been declining for some time and, knowing the end of her earthly life was drawing near, she had been planning her funeral. Susan related that at times it felt like they were planning a party, as she and her daughters helped Mrs. Mac select hymns and scripture passages for the service. There was certainly a celebration that afternoon, of a life well-lived by a godly woman whose death was precious in the sight of her Lord.[3]

Our pastor, who shared 1 Corinthians 15:50-58[4] with Mrs. Mac just minutes before she passed away, spoke on the Apostle Paul’s declaration in Philippians, “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”[5] Indeed, for believers, death is the gateway to eternal life in the presence of God. Yet even at Emma’s tender age, as she gets bumps and bruises from toppling over while learning to crawl, this life presents challenges. Jesus didn’t downplay the difficulties and hardships we’d face. He told his disciples to expect them, but added the promise He’d overcome the world. [6] And while we’re here, we’re called to do all to his glory[7], keeping our eyes firmly fixed on him, not our circumstances.

Pastor Todd Allen had the closing prayer, a sermonette in its own right, at Mrs. Mac’s service. Now 92, he proclaimed the same truth he declared at Ray’s funeral over 19 years ago. Speaking words of hope and assurance, Pastor Allen reminded us that when the days allotted to us are over, we too will be welcomed Home. What an encouragement to see the consistent faith of this senior saint across the years, a faith and consistency shared by Mrs. Mac and others who’ve gone before us. May we, like them, be able to say with the Apostle Paul when our days here are coming to an end, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”[8] The One who is with us from beginning to end, the Alpha and the Omega[9], is worthy of all praise, glory and honor. [10]

[1] Ephesians 6:4, King James

[2] 1 John 3:1

[3] Psalm 116:15

[4] This passage includes the proclamation, “Death is swallowed up in victory.”

[5] Philippians 1:21

[6] John 16:33

[7] 1 Corinthians 10:31

[8] 2 Timothy 4:7

[9] Revelation 1:8, Revelation 22:13

[10] Revelation 5:12

Father knows best

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Numerous books have been written on the subject I’m about to address. Many of those books were authored by learned theologians. So it’s with a bit of trepidation I climb out on this limb. Yet I do so in hopes of providing some encouragement to fellow pilgrims, non-theologians like myself.

It’s a rare person who hasn’t had a few “Why, God?” experiences in life. From mundane irritations to unspeakable losses, things happen to us and those we love that don’t make sense, at least not from our finite human perspective. Not surprising since the Lord declares his thoughts and ways are higher than ours. [1]

Job, an upright and blameless man who feared God[2], endured multiple calamities and is often referenced as an example of patience under duress. After Job lost his children and his property and he was struck with loathsome sores[3], he refused to curse God and die as his wife recommended.[4]  Nonetheless, Job grew weary of his friends’ attempts to console and explain. He started to wonder why God had seemingly removed his favor and he longed for a return to the days when his life was sweet. He recounted his deeds before God, trying to understand why such misery had befallen him. For me, Job’s questioning is what makes him so relatable, so human. Even those of us who’ve walked with the Lord for years have times when we question and wonder and doubt.

God didn’t answer Job with a detailed explanation of his circumstances. Instead he posed questions of his own.[5] God’s queries opened Job’s eyes to the awesome power and wisdom of the One he questioned, leading him to declare, “Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth.” [6]

Although God doesn’t owe us an explanation, there are times when He graciously allows us to see some reasons things didn’t work out the way we wanted them to. Several examples from my life:

  • Some years ago, a position opened up at work. I requested a change, thinking it would be perfect for me and was disappointed when the assignment went to one of my colleagues. It was then I found out the job description had been rewritten, with the role becoming more technical in nature – not perfect after all. The business developed a new role, focused on color and design, which I was better suited for and filled for the remaining 14 years of my career.
  • When my parents told the seller of the house they chose to buy they were moving to this area to help their widowed daughter, she recounted how the house had been under contract a few months earlier but the deal fell through. Her explanation upon hearing my parents’ story: “God must have been saving this house for you.”
  • Soon after I finished my internship at a local botanical garden, a part-time staff position opened up. A chance to start a new career path? I applied, but didn’t get the job. Now, with four years’ hindsight, I see numerous reasons it was best I wasn’t chosen for the job.

As you might imagine, losing my husband, Ray, to a fatal heart attack at age 39 has been the most why-provoking event of my life. It doesn’t make sense that a kind, godly husband and father would be taken from his wife and young daughters, but it doesn’t have to. I’ve come to accept it as part of God’s plan for us. The glimpses God’s given me regarding other, less life-changing situations like the examples above provide touchstones of reassurance. I trust he’s working out his good and perfect plan for me even when I don’t understand. That trust has deepened over the years as I’ve come to know God more intimately than I would have had my earthly husband and provider been present.

Who knows? The Lord may be protecting us from unforeseen consequences, refining our character, using our circumstances to encourage others and draw us closer to himself, or any number of other possibilities we cannot even imagine. Regardless, we can remain confident, trusting that Father knows best. After all, he’s the One who promises to work all things together for good for those who love him.[7]

[1] Isaiah 55:8-9

[2] Job 1:1

[3] Job 2:7

[4] Job 2:9

[5] Job, chapters 38-40

[6] Job 40:4

[7] Romans 8:28

The happy garden

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

A friend’s comment that we’ve had 70 days with a high temperature of 90 or above, confirmed what I already suspected: this summer’s been hot even by Hotlanta standards. Add in the humidity characteristic of our area and there have been days when it felt like I’d been engulfed by a damp blanket as soon as I stepped outside.

These less-than-ideal conditions haven’t kept me from my garden though. IMG_1877One recent day as I walked the property checking on plants and critters, my clothes soaked with perspiration from the afternoon’s exertion, I thought, “This is a happy garden.” And so it is. As I’ve alluded to before, there are certainly weeds and unsightly areas I need to attend to, but my Father has tucked all sorts of gifts and surprises onto the 1/3 acre He’s entrusted to me. A few current examples:

The passionflower vine by my mailbox has become a veritable ecosystem unto itself. It supports a burgeoning population of Gulf fritillary caterpillars while the resulting butterflies flit about, bees buzz contentedly, buried in the ornate flowers, and ants scurry tirelessly along the vine.

The heat-loving hibiscus right outside my garage greets me daily with a cheerful display of bright yellow flowers with exquisite red highlights.

The white wood asters, adopted from a friend two years ago, are blooming for the first time. Last year’s buds were nibbled before they had a chance to open, most likely by a passing deer.

The flowers on the black-eyed Susans, a dependable source of color interest in a summer garden, are starting to give way to prominent seed clusters. Attracted to this popular food source, goldfinches will often perch like dainty ornaments atop the seed-laden stalks.

The Tipularia made its typically short-lived appearance. Nevertheless, its display of the tiniest of orchids on fragile stems made it well worth searching for and savoring before it disappeared for another year.

Other illustrations abound, but this brief list is representative of the myriad garden treasures I’m thankful for. They change season to season, many returning year after year like dependable friends.

This morning the sky was a glorious clear blue. There was a gentle breeze to dispel some of the heat and coax a few leaves from their branches. Yet even on the most beautiful day, as I rejoice in the gifts I’ve discovered, I know they’re merely a glimpse of what awaits when IMG_1880all things are made new. My finite mind can’t comprehend the splendor  in store, but my heart rejoices in the assurance God will dwell among his people forevermore, our eternal source of light and life.[1] Until then, may we take time to notice and appreciate the  reminders of his love all around us. And let us say with the Apostle John, “Come, Lord Jesus!”[2]

 

 

 

[1] Revelation 22:5

[2] Revelation 22:20b

For better or worse

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

Thirty-three years ago on August 5, 1983, Ray and I became man and wife. The ceremony, held in an un-air-conditioned sanctuary in conditions that make the word sweltering come to mind, was the culmination of months of planning and anticipation.Wedding photo for blog Family and friends, many of whom still refer to our wedding as the hottest they’ve ever attended, looked on as we said our vows and pledged ourselves to each other no matter what came our way. We were young and optimistic. Although we had a number of pre-marital counseling sessions with two different pastors, like most newlyweds we went into our marriage expecting more better than worse, more health than sickness. And the idea of death parting us? Well, that possibility seemed decades in the future.

I’m somewhat chagrined to admit reality hit soon after we returned from our honeymoon. I’m an only child and an introvert by nature. I was used to having time and space to myself. Suddenly I had another person to cope with ALL THE TIME. Granted, I loved Ray very much, but part of me kept waiting for him to go home. That thought of course was quickly followed by, “Wait! He is home!” And so it went. The early months were difficult as we learned to live together and accommodate each other’s needs and idiosyncrasies.

Before our 1-year anniversary we managed to buy our first home, a townhouse. Several months after our third anniversary we welcomed a baby girl, Mary. IMG_1652A second daughter, Jessie, joined our family a few days after our sixth anniversary. In 1991 the company I worked for decided to transfer their carpet group to Georgia. Ray was fully supportive of the move. We put down roots and settled into our “raise the kids” house the following year.

Bit by bit we became partners, working together on our shared goals, trusting God to guide us . . . and then the unthinkable happened. On April 19, 1997, a mere thirteen years after our marriage began, death parted us. 055Some weeks after Ray’s passing, I contacted Focus on the Family to request materials on grieving and widowhood. The woman who answered my call was so kind. I explained what had happened and told her I felt like a part of me was missing. I’ll never forget her reply: “Over the years you were married you and your husband became one and part of you is missing.” God had undeniably knit Ray and I together as we sought to honor Him by loving and serving each other and raising the children He blessed us with.

Indeed, those early notions of, “Isn’t it time for him to go home?”, were replaced by fervent prayers that God would watch over Ray. Journal entries documented my concerns. In one such entry I wrote, “Please keep Ray in good health . . . Sometimes I worry about him because of his dad’s early death. I don’t know what I would do without him, Lord.”

Almost 20 years have come and gone since Ray went Home and I’ve come to realize my implied question (“What will I do?”) would have been better stated, “What will you do, Lord?” After losing my husband, I clung to the One who promised to be with us always, through times of great joy and heart-wrenching sorrow, for better or worse. I’ve found Him to be faithful and his grace to be sufficient. Furthermore, death will not part us. Instead, it will be my passage Home.

They’re back!

/ Patsy Kuipers / 4 Comments

Two years ago I planted a passionflower vine by my mailbox. I’d seen one growing profusely at the garden where I volunteer. IMG_1289Not only are the flowers intricately beautiful, but Passiflora is the only host genus for the Gulf Fritillary butterfly’s caterpillars. (See “Very Hungry Caterpillars”, September 2014 for more info.)

That first season I only got to enjoy two or three flowers before the ravenous caterpillars started devouring the plant. Last year the passionflower was well-established and provided numerous blossoms for me to gaze upon as well as nourishment for several waves of my little orange buddies with black spikes.

Now in its third season, the passionflower is flourishing. Ok, so that’s putting it politely. It’s actually starting to take over the entire mailbox bed, including the summer annuals residing there. For several weeks I thought, “No problem! Soon the caterpillars will show up. They’ll have plenty to eat plus I’ll have plenty of flowers.” I examined the vine every morning when I went out to collect the newspaper and every evening when I checked for mail. No caterpillars. Then one day I saw a tiny caterpillar in the clutches of a wasp. What did I do? I turned to Google, of course! “Do wasps eat caterpillars?” Unfortunately, they do.

I kept up my twice-daily vigil, hoping there would eventually be enough caterpillars to satisfy the wasps and still leave some to make it all the way through their life cycle. Days passed with only an occasional sighting. Then I realized there was an army of ants busily traversing the sprawling vines. Back to Google. “Do ants eat caterpillars?” Yes, yes they do. By this time I was feeling rather dismal about the situation since I doubted it would be possible to get rid of the ants without negatively impacting the caterpillars.

My five-year-old grandson, Joshua, encouraged me to find the ant mound and deal with the pesky marauders at their source. I was somewhat surprised he didn’t say, “That’s the way the world works, Grammie”, as he often does when I bemoan the fact some predator has taken down its prey. Being an avid fan of “Wild Kratts”, Joshua is incredibly knowledgeable about a multitude of creatures. He takes the food chain in stride, knowing some animals get eaten by other animals as God provides for all of his creation.

Yet I can’t help but wonder if the way the world’s working isn’t the way it’s supposed to work at all, particularly when it comes to death. Some months ago I was reading the first chapter of Genesis, a passage I’ve read MANY times, when I noticed something. Take a look at verses 29 and 30: Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.  And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” (Emphasis mine.) Do you see it too? In the beginning, when God created everything and it was all good, there was no death, not even animals eating each other. Only after the fall did the shedding of blood become commonplace and, at times, necessary. Sadly, that’s the way the world works now, even when it’s man spilling a fellow man’s blood.

But there was One who came to save and restore by shedding his own precious blood. Because He did, we have the assurance that someday all things will be set right again. The world will once more work as its Creator originally intended. Speaking of Jesus’ return, the prophet Isaiah said,

IMG_1539 “Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist. The wolf will live with the lamb,  the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. The cow will feed with the bear,  their young will lie down together,  and the lion will eat straw like the ox. The infant will play near the cobra’s den,  and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” [1] (Emphasis mine.)

His promised return is certain. We can wait confidently and expectantly for the day when there will be no more pain or tears, when death will be swallowed up in victory once and for all. And while we wait, God graciously sustains his creation . . .

Several days ago my morning caterpillar search yielded the results I’d been hoping for. A grateful smile spread across my face as I discovered a dozen or so voracious nibblers of various sizes. They’ve been steadily eating and growing ever since and have been joined by more. A small thing in the overall scheme of life to be sure, but a gift nonetheless from the One who knows how much I delight in hosting the Gulf fritillaries and their offspring each year.IMG_1578

 

 

 

[1] Isaiah 11:5-9

Another year

/ Patsy Kuipers / 7 Comments

My interest in writing dates back to elementary school when I started keeping diaries and chronicling family vacations. I’ve filled numerous journals with my take on life events ever since. After nearly 50 years of writing, I began to contemplate blogging and so, on July 1, 2014, I launched Back 2 the Garden.

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Two of my journals. Nothing fancy, but together they chronicle my musings across 24 years of life.

 

As I stated in my first article, “Count it all joy”, gardening became my passion after my horticulturally-trained husband’s death at the all-too-young age of 39. This passion has produced much fruit as I’ve tended our garden across the past 19 years:

“Not only has God faithfully provided for me and my family since Ray’s death, He has ministered to me over and over again through the beauty of his creation. While playing in the dirt, I’ve been reminded of his promises, seen tangible examples of Scriptural principles and found solace for my soul. This blog is born of a desire to share some of what I’ve learned spiritually and horticulturally.”

My hope when I embarked on this endeavor was to impart spiritual insights as well as practical horticultural information, with the aim of publishing an article once a week. But the demands of life have a way of tempering our goals. I’ve averaged posting an essay about every two weeks, the pages I launched to expand the content of Back 2 the Garden have languished, and almost all of what I’ve written has focused on the spiritual. Nevertheless, my longing to share the joy and hope I find in faith, family, friends and flowers is as strong as when I debuted my first post. My desire to carry on in spite of various and assorted distractions is fueled in no small part by those of you who take time to read what I publish and encourage me to keep writing. Thank you!

Since celebrating the first anniversary of my blogging efforts last July, I’ve lost a dear brother-in-law and gained a precious granddaughter; had to let go of a friendship or two, yet reconnected with a special friend from my past; had surgery; endured a time of not playing in the dirt while I recovered; and, just recently, commenced a major landscaping project which is sure to provide fodder for future reflections on this page. Joy, sorrow, challenges, new dreams – the stuff life is made of. And underneath it all, the everlasting arms of the One who never changes, who knows the end from the beginning and loves us more than we can imagine.

Whether you’re visiting this page for the first time or have been a faithful reader from the beginning, I hope you’ll continue to find many reasons to come back to the garden with me.