Author: Patsy Kuipers

Homeward Bound

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city (Hebrews 11:13-16).

Comings and Goings

Sometimes I think my smartphone is a little too smart. It keeps track of my comings and goings, and whenever I back out of my driveway, it anticipates where I’m headed, suggests a preferred route, and tells me how long it will take to get there. Sometimes it guesses incorrectly, but my phone’s predictions are usually accurate, given that I’m a creature of habit with a dependable pattern of destinations. Church on Sunday mornings, grocery shopping on Friday, dinner with Dad at his assisted living several evenings a week – my phone has made note of my whereabouts.

When I’m away from home and start my car, my phone always tells me how long it will take to return home. I can’t think of a time it’s suggested another destination, even though my Friday pattern almost always includes a stop at Starbucks after I get groceries.

The underlying assumption is valid though – ultimately, I want to get home safely.

Heading Home

As I was thinking about this the other day when my phone helpfully told me yet again how long it would take to get home, I mused, “What if I had something that told me how long it will take to get Home and the best route to take?”

Just as I wish to return home safely each time I depart, I fervently long to arrive Home. As dear as my little piece of property is, full of trees, shrubs, and flowers I’ve tended for almost 30 years, I’m reminded daily that this world isn’t my Home, no matter how lovely it is. This life is full of challenges, losses, and brokenness that make me yearn to be in the presence of the Lord.

Even so, I don’t really want to know how much longer my journey is. If I learned my earthly life was drawing to a close, I might despair of accomplishing the goals I’ve set for myself or dwell on the impact my death will have on my family. Conversely, if I discovered I had many years ahead of me, I might squander my time or grow weary at the thought of dealing with the trials of this life.

Closer Than We Think?

Further pondering led me to recall lyrics from a Michael W. Smith song, “I’m Waiting for You”:

You’re on the road
Thinking you’re far from here
And suddenly find
You’re very near

The words brought to mind two arduous events from the past couple of years:

Mom broke her hip, had surgery to repair it, and spent nine harrowing days in the hospital, days in which we kept vigil by her bedside, helpless and heartbroken. We made the necessary arrangements to bring her back to the home she shared with my dad, determined to care for her for whatever time the Lord allowed. We agreed to an interim stop at a hospice facility to stabilize her medication. It was there, barely 24 hours after she arrived, surrounded by family, that Mom took her last breath and slipped peacefully into the presence of the Lord. Just like that, her earthly strife was over. She was Home.

Last summer, I spent countless hours going through things Mom and Dad had accumulated in their nearly 70 years of marriage in preparation for selling their house. Given the hot housing market, I expected the house would be under contract quickly. However, I anticipated at least another month of checking the property each day while the buyers secured a loan, had the house inspected, and requested repairs. But we got a cash offer, and they wanted to settle the following week. Just like that, my responsibility ended.

Scripture urges us not to grow weary of doing good or to give up (Galatians 6:9). As one of my favorite podcasters said recently when describing the challenges of losing her mother bit by bit to Alzheimer’s, the Lord will allow trials to last long enough to accomplish His purposes, no more and no less. Though the two stressful scenarios I described above were relatively brief, even if a trial lasts a lifetime, it’s merely a dot along the line of eternity (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).

Traveling Companion

Now take a look at the first stanza of “I’m Waiting for You:”

I walked this road
So very long ago
To show the way
So you would know
I walked the road
With holes in my hands and feet
To make the way
Come follow me

Even though I don’t know how long it will take me to get Home or the details of the specific route God has planned for me, I have no doubt about the Way. Not only is Jesus the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6) whose sacrifice ensures we will reach our final destination, He’s promised never to leave or forsake us. His Spirit dwells within us, guiding, comforting, and reminding us of all Jesus said. Furthermore, Jesus is preparing a place for us and has promised to return to take us to be with Him (John 14:2-3).

Being confident of the Way, I don’t need to know the distance remaining on my journey. Instead, I take comfort in knowing all my days were written in God’s book before even one came to be (Psalm 139:16). Each morning when I wake up, I do so with purpose, knowing God must still have something for me to do. When I’ve finished the good works prepared for me in advance, He’ll call me Home.

Dear Lord, one day I may leave home and not make it back, like Mom, but thank You that I have complete confidence that I will make it Home, as she did, because of Jesus. Until then, please help me to glorify You all along the route You have ordained for me.

A Month for Remembering, Reprise

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?
1 Corinthians 15:54b-55

Beware the Ides of April

Though Ides looks plural, it is, in fact, singular and means the middle of a given month. According to the ancient Roman calendar,  the Ides fell on the 15th of  March, May, July, and October, and the 13th of the other months.

I’m not superstitious, and I realize I’m taking liberties with one of the most famous of Shakespeare’s often-quoted lines. Still, I’ve become wary of the middle of April, those days between the 10th and 20th,  because they are dotted with significant anniversaries of loss, both personal and national:

  • Waco Massacre – April 19, 1993
  • Oklahoma City Bombing – April 19, 1995
  • Ray, my dearly-loved husband, passed away from a heart attack on April 19, 1997, at the age of 39.
  • Columbine – April 20, 1999
  • VA Tech Shooting – April 16, 2007
  • Marcia, a dear sister-in-law, died on April 12, 2014, after a fall at her farm.
  • Mom was diagnosed with pneumonia on April 17, 2019, and spent the next 24 days in the hospital. There were several times we thought we’d lose her.
  • Mom fell and broke her hip on April 20, 2021, Dad’s 90th birthday. She went Home ten days later.

A Melancholy Month

When the calendar page turns to the fourth month, a sense of melancholy settles over my soul, much like pine pollen coats the Georgia landscape. I’ll admit I had to look up the specific dates of the national tragedies, though I knew they all occurred in April. Not so with the personal losses. Those dates and their attendant memories are etched into my mind.

Ray’s death forever divided my life into two pieces, before and after. Each year I intentionally revisit our last days together, when I had no idea how few there were, and the first days without him, when I wondered how I’d ever go on.

Now I do the same with memories of Mom. Unlike Ray’s final days, which were filled with typical family and work activities, Mom’s were plagued with pain and confusion, making the memories even more heartbreaking. In April 2021, medical appointments filled the calendar as I desperately sought help for Mom, whose health was precarious and becoming more so each day. Yet I didn’t realize I had less than a month left in this life with the one who was my chief cheerleader and devoted prayer warrior from the time I was born.

Purposely observing the passing of Ray and Mom, my two most ardent supporters, touches tender scars and re-opens the wounds. But it is a price I’m willing to pay as I honor the memory of these dear ones, gratefully recalling the love and blessings they poured into my life.

Hope Abounds

Despite the undercurrent of loss that runs through April reminiscences, my mood seldom remains somber for long. The beauty of springtime bursting forth all around me won’t allow it to.

I revel daily in the signs of new life, as leaves emerge on formerly bare branches, flowering shrubs look resplendent in their colorful array of blossoms, and perennials push their way out of the soil for another season of growth. And I delight in the increased activity around my bird feeders as my feathered friends form couples and begin raising their young.

Everywhere I look, I see reminders of resurrection hope.

Suffering Savior

Each year as Easter approaches, I ponder Jesus’ last week, just as I intentionally think back on Ray and Mom’s final days. On Palm Sunday, we remember His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, but over the next five days, the chants of adoration would be replaced by those of “Crucify Him!” (John 12:12-13; John 19:15)

In His final week, our beloved Savior, the Spotless Lamb of God, would wash His disciples’ feet, be betrayed with a kiss, abandoned by His closest friends, arrested, beaten, mocked, and crucified. Writing those words, contemplating all it cost Him to save me, brings tears to my eyes as quickly as thoughts of losing Ray and Mom – tears of sorrow for my sins and all He endured on my behalf.

Grieving with Hope

But death doesn’t get the final say. Jesus’ resurrection guarantees He’ll have the last word.

Though it is right to mourn our sins with sorrow that leads to repentance (2 Corinthians 7:10), we can rejoice knowing His atoning sacrifice removes our sins as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12). They no longer define us because our identity is hidden in Christ, and we are robed in His righteousness.

Furthermore, Jesus’ victory over death enables us to grieve the passing of our loved ones with the hope of knowing the separation, though painful, is only temporary (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14). Jesus’ journey through the streets of Jerusalem, heralded by hosannas and palm branches, is but a shadow of His promised return. On that day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord. The dwelling place of God will be with His people, and He will wipe away every tear. Death, mourning, and pain will be no more, for the former things will have passed away (Revelation 21:3-4).

Last week I observed the 26th anniversary of losing Ray. This week I’ll be remembering Mom’s final days as the second anniversary of her Homegoing approaches. Though I miss them both every day, I would not wish them back, for their faith has been made sight, and they are beyond the reach of the pain and troubles of this world. Instead, I look forward to the day when I will join them in the presence of the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:8).

Thank You, Lord, for the hope we have in You. Because You took our punishment upon Yourself and then rose in victory over death, we have the assurance our sins are pardoned, and we, too, will be resurrected to eternal life in Your presence. May we be ever mindful of this truth to comfort our hearts while we tarry in this world where the effects of sin and brokenness remain.

Resurrection Life

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
Galatians 2:20

Happy Easter, dear readers!

I’m intentional about remembering the events of Jesus’ last week on earth – the triumphal entry, the Passover Feast with His disciples, Judas’ betrayal, the kangaroo court and false accusations, the scourging, mocking, and, ultimately, the crucifixion itself. One by one, the Old Testament prophesies regarding the Messiah came to pass until Jesus commended His Spirit into the Father’s hands, pronouncing, “It is finished” (John 19:30).

I’ve long said Easter is the best day of the year. Upon waking, my first thought is, “He is risen!” I can barely wait to get to church to share the greeting with my brothers and sisters in Christ and receive their response, “He is risen indeed!” After a week of solemnly contemplating all Jesus endured on my behalf, Resurrection Sunday is a joyful, hope-filled celebration.

A guest on a podcast I was listening to yesterday shared this A. W. Tozer quote:

“To the early Christians, Easter was not a holiday. We think of it as a holiday, but it wasn’t even a holy day for them. It wasn’t even a day at all. To the early Christians, it was an accomplished fact that lived with them all year long. They did not celebrate His rising from the dead and then go back to their everyday lives and wait another year. They lived by the fact the Christ has risen from the dead and they had risen with Him.”

The quote gave me pause. Jesus accomplished His mission. He defeated death, is seated at the right hand of the Father, interceding for us, and has promised to return. I can wake up every day knowing He is risen! That remarkable news is true even though we are living between the now and not yet. All Scripture says about those who are in Christ already applies, though we won’t fully experience the blessings of belonging until He returns. Consider, for example:

  • We’ve been made alive in Christ and are seated with Him in the heavenly places (Ephesians 2:5-6).
  • We have a secure inheritance (Ephesians 1:11-13).
  • The power of the Holy Spirit is at work within us – the same power that raised Jesus from the dead (Ephesians 1:19-20).
  • We have the promise that our bodies will be raised and transformed as Jesus’ body was, becoming imperishable, fit for eternity with God (1 Corinthians 15:50-55).
  • We are counted righteous in Christ (Romans 3:23-24).
  • We are held fast in the Father’s grasp (John 10:27-29).
  • We have been freed from the power of sin and death (Romans 6:22-23).

I could go on and on. So many blessings because Jesus finished His work,  and He isrisen!

This morning, our pastor added a twist to the Easter greeting I cherish. In response to his, “He is risen!” he encouraged us to say, “He is risen indeed, and we are risen with Him!” Oh, I like that. It succinctly conveys the sentiments behind A. W. Tozer’s statement.

Most days, before I get out of bed, I thank God for another day, that His mercies are new every morning, and that His grace is sufficient for whatever I’ll face in the coming hours. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to add, “He is risen, and I am risen with Him!” to my refrain. Won’t you join me? After all, it’s a life-changing reality we can relish every day, not just on Easter.

Dear Jesus, thank You for paying the debt we owed but could never pay so that we can have abundant life now and unimaginable blessings in Your presence throughout eternity. Please help us to recognize and rejoice in all Your resurrection means for us each and every day.

All Better

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
Revelation 21:3-4

A Pleasant Pastime

A decade or so ago, I discovered the joys of feeding the birds that frequent my wooded property. Cardinals, chickadees, woodpeckers, nut hatches, and titmice are year-round visitors. Other varieties stop by occasionally as they pass through en route to their final destinations.

I placed the feeders where I can see them from several vantage points in my kitchen, so the birds provide entertainment when I’m washing dishes or sitting at my table.

Over the years, I’ve observed a hierarchy in Birdville. The red-bellied woodpecker, one of the largest birds to visit the buffet, appears to be at the top of the pecking order. I’ve never seen him harass any of the other birds, but when he shows up, they move out of the way until he’s finished eating.

Occasionally, when the woodpecker isn’t around, a bird will barge in, scattering those already on the feeder, but, for the most part, they take turns, and meal times proceed in an orderly manner.

Trouble in Birdville

Imagine my dismay last weekend when a menacing mockingbird decided to keep everyone else away from the feeders. When I first saw it chasing the other birds, I thought, “Just wait until the woodpecker returns. He’ll restore order.”

But the woodpecker didn’t return that afternoon, and the mockingbird continued to harass every bird that attempted to get a seed or bit of suet. I decided I’d have to be the protector. I repeatedly got up from the table where I was trying to work on an article for our women’s ministry newsletter, opened the door to my deck, and shooed the belligerent bird away.

The mockingbird was determined. Not only was it keeping other birds from the feeders, but it was also chasing them in the woods, diving and swooping like a fighter plane. The futility of my efforts swallowed up the joy usually associated with feeding my feathered friends. Furthermore, it took at least twice as long to write the article as it would have had I not been policing the deck, adding fuel to the bubbling cauldron of emotions threatening to boil over.

Where oh where was the woodpecker? Surely he wasn’t afraid of the intruder!

Order Restored

When I came downstairs the following morning, the mockingbird had already assumed its post on the deck railing, ready to attack. Dismay and disappointment joined lingering anger from the day before, but mostly I felt my insufficiency. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make it all better.

I decided to place two feeders in the woods and two on the deck in hopes the mockingbird wouldn’t be able to guard all of them, and the other birds could get a few bites to eat. I consoled myself with the truth that even though I feel responsible for the birds on my property, they all belong to God. I prayed He would take care of them (Psalm 145:15-16).

The next day, while I was still upstairs, I heard a melodious blend of bird songs, chirps, and twitters. The woods were full of the music I’ve become accustomed to on spring mornings. Could it be that order had been restored?

I ventured downstairs and found the red-bellied woodpecker had returned. Ever since, birds of all sizes, from tiny Carolina wrens to big brown thrashers, have been taking turns at the feeders. Even the mockingbird, now minding its manners, has been stopping by. Ah, harmony in Birdville. What a relief!

The Real Issue

Do you ever overreact? I’ve learned when I respond with oversized emotions to a situation I may barely remember a month later, it’s usually due to an infusion of angst from an underlying event. Such was the case with the scenario I described above. That bubbling cauldron of jumbled emotions I felt due to my inability to fix the situation was fueled by sadness at not being able to make things better in cases with much higher stakes.

This time two years ago, my dear little mom was in constant pain from what we eventually learned was sciatica. Try as I might, I couldn’t get her the help she needed to alleviate the pain. She fell and broke her hip just hours before the appointment with the pain specialist and went to the hospital instead. The pain she endured for the final ten days of her life was well beyond my capability to heal, as were the fragility of her mind and emotions after surgery to repair her hip.

All I could do was pray, reassure, and sometimes sing as I tried to comfort her.

Likewise, I can’t restore the parts of my 92-year-old father’s mind that a stroke stole from him 17 months ago. He can’t keep the days of the week or time of day straight, and his facility for working crossword puzzles and devouring multi-hundred-page books are a thing of the past. I oversee his care and finances, and as one of his nurses says, I ensure he’s safe and loved.

Oh, how I wish I could do more, but I’m a finite being with finite abilities.

The One Who Can

I don’t like to see suffering or harm in any realm, much less when it comes to my beloved family and friends. I want to fix it, to make it all better. I expect all of God’s children feel that way to some extent. As we traverse this world marred by sin, knowing things aren’t the way God intended them to be, we long for things to be set right.

The bad news is we can’t fix it. But the very best news is that God can and will make it all better. Jesus defeated sin and death by taking our sins upon Himself, paying the debt we owed, and covering us with His righteousness. He is seated at the right hand of God, sovereign over all things and constraining evil (Hebrews 1:1-3). One day Jesus will return and restore harmony. When He does, nothing will kill or destroy on all His holy mountain (Isaiah 11:9). There will be no more pain, no broken hips or debilitating strokes, and no more tears of sorrow and frustration.

Until then, may we strive to care for those God has entrusted to us, remembering He is God and we are not. Everything belongs to Him, even those we most cherish, and we must trust Him for the outcomes.

Dear Lord, please forgive me for stepping over the line, forgetting my place, and trying to “help” You take care of everything. Please give me a clear understanding of my part, trusting You to work all things together for good in full assurance that Jesus’ return will usher in eternity full of peace and joy in Your presence.

The Badges

/ Patsy Kuipers / 4 Comments

And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Colossians 3:17

Abundant Awards

My granddaughters belong to an American Heritage Girls troop at our church. They engage in fun activities while learning life skills grounded in Christian values. In the process, they have an opportunity to earn badges. Lyla, age 9, has been doing so for the past three years, but Emma, who just turned 7, became eligible to earn badges last fall.

Once the meetings resumed last August after a summer break, Lyla and Emma dedicated themselves to completing the requirements for various badges and patches. Between the two of them, they brought home 28 after the December awards night. I’m super proud of them, but my fingers cringed at the thought of stitching so many onto their vests.

When Lyla earned her first few badges, she said some of her friends glued theirs on. I was skeptical but tried doing the same with one of hers. I doubted the longevity of such an application, plus the glue soaked through the fabric and didn’t look good on the inside of the vest. For a longtime seamstress like me, that wasn’t going to be satisfactory.

Thus I determined to sew them on instead. Imagine fingers achy from age and years of gardening, handicrafts, typing, and texting, confronted with badges edged with dense stitching. It was so hard to get the needle through those edges; however, I persevered through Lyla’s first batch and subsequent batches.

But I’d never had anywhere near 28 at one time.

A Grand Plan

Fortunately, there was a break of almost a month between Awards Night and the first meeting of the new year. If I planned well, I’d have plenty of days to sew one or two on at a time and still have all the badges stitched on by that first meeting.

So much for my grand plan! I turned my attention to Christmas and birthday celebrations. A week before meetings resumed, barely any badges had made their way out of the bags they arrived in and onto my granddaughters’ vests.

Plan B

Never fear! My late husband’s alma mater, South Dakota State University, qualified for the FCS football championship game. I relished the opportunity to watch the Jackrabbits play and would have at least three hours to work on badges while I cheered them on.

Ah, one badge securely stitched onto Emma’s vest, and the Jacks were ahead in the game. Uh oh! A closer look revealed something wasn’t quite right. I’d started with the swimming badge but sewed it on upside down. The swimmer looked like she was doing the backstroke instead of freestyle. For the briefest moment, I thought about leaving it. Emma has quite a sense of humor, plus I had so many badges left, and the tips of my fingers were already starting to complain.

But then one of Mom’s mottos[1] pierced my thoughts: “Anything worth doing is worth doing right.”

I snipped the stitches, turned the badge right side up, and reattached it to the vest. I stitched on the one next to it, then another, and laid the vest flat to check my progress. Nooooo!! The badges weren’t aligned with the edge of the vest. That would never do since they were setting the foundation for the rest of the badges on that side. Off they came again.

With all the re-dos, only two badges made it onto Emma’s vest that afternoon – but at least they were positioned correctly!

Spiritual Stitches

If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you’ve no doubt noticed that I’m a ponderer, so it probably won’t surprise you that contemplating the events of that trying experience brought several Biblical principles to my mind:

  • Like most of Mom’s mottos, the one I referenced above has a scriptural tie-in. Colossians 3:17 (the introductory verse for this post), as well as 1 Corinthians 10:31 and Colossians 3:23, encourage us to do our best no matter the task before us as a way to honor God.
  • And those slanted badges? They reminded me not only of Jesus’ teaching on the importance of a firm faith foundation (Matthew 7:24-27) but also that He is our Cornerstone, precious and chosen, joining together the household of God (1 Peter 2:6; Ephesians 2:20-21).
  • Watching the football game while I worked was fun, but it was also distracting and probably contributed to my mistakes. Likewise, many things can distract us from walking single-mindedly with the Lord. Numerous passages remind us to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus and follow His example of perseverance. Philippians 3:12-14 and Hebrews 12:1-2 are two of my favorites.
  • The badges represent the troop leaders’ diligence in teaching and mentoring the troop members and the girls’ efforts to master new skills and serve their communities. Similarly, the working of the Spirit in our lives produces fruit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control – outward manifestations of our life in Christ (Galatians 5:22-23).

Epilog

In case you’re wondering, South Dakota State, more focused on their task than I was on mine that Sunday afternoon,  won the championship game. I spent countless hours in the week leading up to the first AHG meeting of the year sewing on badges. My fingers paid the price for my procrastination, but Lyla and Emma’s vests were adorned with the awards they’d worked so hard to earn. And I can even laugh now about the “backstroke badge” since it gave me some fun reminders of spiritual principles to pass along. I hope they’ll make you smile too.

[1] If you would like to read more of Mom’s mottos, please see “Thanks, Mom! (Reprise)” in Archives, November 2022.

The Land of the Living

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

I would have despaired had I not believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for and confidently expect the Lord. Be strong and let your heart take courage. Yes, wait for and confidently expect the Lord.
Psalm 27:13-14 Amplified Bible

Flash Freeze

The week before Christmas found us experiencing normal temperatures here in metro Atlanta – highs in the mid-50s, lows in the upper-30s – but that changed abruptly on December 23rd. Temperatures plummeted overnight from a high of 52 to a low of 19, dropping even further to a frigid 8 degrees the next day. Daytime highs returned to above freezing on the third day, but nighttime lows remained well below freezing as we experienced one of the coldest Christmases on record.

The lingering lows, accompanied by blustery, bone-chilling winds wreaked havoc on the plants, most of which hadn’t gone dormant yet due to our moderate weather. I compared notes with fellow gardening enthusiasts. Most of our annuals were a total loss. The arctic blast burned the foliage of the cheerful violas and pansies, staples of our winter gardens, while the ornamental kale was nothing more than mush when it thawed out.

 One friend, a longtime Master Gardener, shared a video that addressed our “what now?” questions. The speaker used the term “flash freeze” to describe what happened to the plants when the temperature dropped precipitously. The water in their cells froze instantly. When the temperatures rose above freezing, some of the cells burst, no longer able to contain the water required for life.

Despite this grim description, the speaker affirmed what my gardening friends and I had been encouraging ourselves with: it was too soon to judge how the perennials, shrubs, and trees had fared. Given our cumulative experience, we were hopeful more plant friends would survive than wouldn’t.

Only time would tell.

Sudden Loss

After watching the video and contemplating what my garden might look like come spring, I pondered how sudden loss is akin to a flash freeze. Even though nearly 26 years have passed since my husband’s sudden death, I distinctly remember driving to work a few days before his passing. Stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green, I was soaking up the beauty of the day. I thanked God for the warm weather and springtime blossoms and that things were going smoothly for my little family.

Less than a week later, I received the life-changing news that my 39-year-old husband had not survived a heart attack that felled him while he was at work. My 7- and 10-year-old daughters heard the nurse’s somber pronouncement at the same time I did. In a moment, life as we knew it stopped.

Days passed. My daughters went back to school, and I returned to work as we tried to recreate some semblance of normalcy. But many nights, tears flowed from one, two, or all three of us. Even though I clung to my faith, knowing I would experience joy when God called me Home, I wondered if I would ever experience joy again in this life.

One evening, that question was running through my mind yet again when I sat down with my Bible. The reading schedule brought me to Psalm 27, where I found encouragement in the introductory passage above. The Lord used it to assure me I could wait with confidence, counting on His goodness. I trusted that joy would indeed return in this life, even though I wasn’t sure what it would look like or how long it would take.

Only time would tell.

Joy for Mourning

Ray had a horticulture degree and was an accomplished gardener whose legacy includes the plants he chose for our yard. In those early days of loss, I could never have imagined what a tremendous role those plants would play in restoring my joy.

In a journal entry dated 3-1-98, I recorded the following: I spent the whole afternoon outside yesterday, cleaning up the front beds and going through the many pots Ray kept. It was a bittersweet experience. I couldn’t believe all the little plants that are coming back to life. I cried several times as I dug, raked, clipped, and discovered new growth. The beauty and hope are there. I just miss having Ray to share it with. Several times I stopped and said a silent thank you to him for planting so many beautiful things and to God for sustaining it all.

That, my friends, was the first of countless sessions of what I refer to as “garden therapy.” Seeing the tiny shoots popping up through the leaf litter gave me great hope. If they could survive their cold, dark winter, then maybe I could survive my season of loss.

Sustained by God’s grace and His steadfast love, I’ve done more than survive. I’ve flourished – and so has the garden He’s entrusted to my care. It nourishes me spiritually as I see scriptural principles come to life and provides a tangible connection to Ray until we’re reunited.

You might be wondering how my plants are doing now, two months after the deep freeze. There are some indications that a few didn’t make it, just as there were some things in my life that didn’t survive Ray’s passing. However, I’m pleased to report that the plants are exhibiting the same perseverance I observed 25 years ago. Signs of life are popping out everywhere, and, just as my fellow plant lovers and I expected, far more of our leafy friends survived than didn’t.

Life in this world is challenging. As pilgrims on our way Home, we can be buffeted by all sorts of ill winds. Yet there is joy in the journey because our joy rests in a Person. Jesus, the One Who came to give us abundant life now and eternal life in His presence, is also the One Who’s promised never to leave or forsake us. He will give us strength for the journey and see us safely Home.

Dear Lord, thank You for lovingly sustaining all You’ve made, from the plants and animals to Your beloved children created in Your image. Though this world bears the effects of sin, You’ve filled it with examples of Your great love and care for us. Please help us to have eyes to see those gifts even as we long for Your return.

Abiding Love, Reprise

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends . . . So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three, but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:7-8a; 13

Do They Remember?

Several months after Mom passed away, Dad asked a surprising question, “Do you think the little children remember Thelma?”

Puzzled, I replied, “Do you mean Joshua, Lyla, and Emma?”[1]

Dad nodded; a mix of sadness and resignation lined his face.

Confusion turned to disbelief. I assured him, “Of course they do! At least one of us mentions her every time we’re together, especially if snakes come up in our conversation!”

Despite my lighthearted attempt to console him by referring to Mom’s most despised critters, I understood Dad’s concern. Given their ages, my grandchildren won’t have many detailed recollections of specific moments shared with Mom by the time they’re adults.

Then again, I know they’ll never forget her.

I Remember

How can I make such a bold statement? Because I know firsthand how unconditional love transcends the grave.

Though my dear maternal grandfather, PaPa,  died over 50 years ago when I was a couple of months shy of my seventh birthday, tears of love and longing well up when I think of him. My memories are few, but precious – sitting on his lap eating apple slices, walking hand-in-hand to the small general store, stopping at the post office, waving to the conductor and counting the cars as the train passed by his house.

I’ve eaten an apple almost every day for as long as I can remember and began sharing apple slices with my grandchildren as soon as they could safely eat them. I attribute both practices to the connection to my grandfather. I eat and share and think of him. I still feel the warmth of his love.

Photographs and Memories

Which memories might fill my grandchildren’s mental portfolio of time spent with Mom? In addition to her loathing of snakes, I expect they’ll recall her reading to them as all three snuggled as close to Mama as possible to see the story illustrations. Then there was the ritual of standing next to their diminutive great-grandmother to see how much they needed to grow to catch up to her, something Joshua accomplished the last time they compared heights. Maybe there will even be memories of marathon Play-Doh sessions or coloring with her. And I hope they’ll remember making goodies with her a few days before her last Christmas.

I have photos and details to go along with all those experiences to help reinforce them in the minds of my grandchildren. And, like me with my grandfather, an enduring sense of her love for them will bind those memories together. 

Legacy of Faith

Tucked amidst my fond reminiscences of PaPa are those of attending Sunday school at the little country church where he served as a deacon. When Mom talked about her father, she often mentioned how much he loved God and that church and how he was there to serve and worship every time the doors were open.

Mom and PaPa were cut from the same cloth. Both small in stature, they had big, compassionate hearts and lived their lives based on their abiding faith in God, a faith they instilled in subsequent generations. Mom brought some of her childhood Sunday school papers to show Joshua, Lyla, and Emma during one of our weekly visits. Seeing the four of them huddled close, looking at the decades-old leaflets that proclaimed timeless truths, is one of my most cherished memories.

When we held Mom’s funeral in that tiny church, I showed my grandchildren the Sunday school classroom where she’d studied those lessons.

Cloud of Witnesses

During my husband’s graveside service, one of the pastors told then 10-year-old Mary and 7-year-old Jessie their lives would be forever blessed by having a godly father. Even though he was with us for a relatively short time, we continue to experience the impact of Ray’s unconditional love and steadfast faith nearly 26 years later.

Other loved ones people my heritage of faith: A great-aunt, poor by worldly standards, but exceedingly wealthy in grace and kindness. Aunts who didn’t think a visit was complete until they’d fed me, physically and spiritually. Grandmothers with well-worn Bibles and “Jesus Loves Me” on their lips. All of them have long since joined the great cloud of witnesses mentioned in Hebrews 12:1, but their influence lives on.

I’ve pondered these relationships, marveling how love can reach beyond death, undimmed by the passage of time. Though I cherish tangible reminders of departed loved ones, the lasting connections aren’t based on material gifts. They’re woven together from shared experiences undergirded by loving acceptance and encouragement.

Love grounded in faith and hope is the most valuable legacy we can bestow, far more significant than any earthly treasures we might bequeath. I suppose my thoughts frequently turn to those who loved me well because I want to love the way they loved, to pass on the legacy they left me.

The Father’s Love

The Father first loved us by sending His Son to die for us, the just for the unjust. Empowered by the Spirit, we are to love others as God has loved us (1 John 4:9-11). Jesus even said His followers’ love for each other should be notable, a distinguishing characteristic  (John 13:34-35).

And how blessed we are that nothing on earth or in heaven will ever be able to separate us from God’s love:  For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38-9).

What a glorious assurance!

Just as I recognize the importance of telling my grandchildren about the faithful loved ones who are no longer with us, I know telling them about the Father who loves them is even more important, with implications that will last for eternity (Psalm 78:1-8).

Dear Lord, thank You for Your infinite, eternal love. May we live in such a way that our love and faith are evident to a watching world, hallmarks of our relationship with You. And may we love others so well that the effects endure even after You’ve called us Home, connecting one generation to another until we’re reunited around Your throne.

[1] My grandchildren, who were 9, 7, and 5 when Mom died.

Another Anniversary

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Give ear, O my people, to my teaching; incline your ears to the words of my mouth! I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings from of old, things that we have heard and known, that our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.
Psalm 78:1-4

Life-changing Moments

There have been a number of life-changing events in my six decades of living. Some were happily anticipated, like my wedding day and the days my daughters and grandchildren were born. Others caught me by surprise and not in a pleasant way.

Two events in the latter category cleaved my life into before and after segments so that what followed wasn’t just a new chapter but a whole new volume in my life story. Each year when the anniversaries of those events come around, I intentionally look back at what’s happened since, remembering all God has done.

My reflections remind me that His ways are not my ways (Isaiah 55:8-9) and that He is able to do far more than I ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

Telling and Retelling the Story

Sometimes I wonder if I should keep discussing these events or writing about them. Maybe others are tired of the repetition. Then I remember Elisabeth Elliot talking about how many times she told the story of losing her husband, Jim, and four friends in the jungles of Ecuador. Yet that was the story entrusted to her, and she faithfully told and retold it, always wrapped in a message of God’s sovereignty and providential care.

Author and friend Sharon Betters refers to such stories as our credentials, i.e., the very things that allow us to speak credibly into the lives of others because of God’s faithfulness to us in hard times. Scripture itself instructs us to comfort others with the same comfort we’ve received from God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).

Twelve Years

The anniversary of one of the life-cleaving events occurred several days ago. January 26 marked 12 years since my 30-year career came to an inauspicious conclusion in a windowless conference room. My manager filed in with her manager in tow. Not a good sign. My heart rate increased as she calmly pronounced the death sentence on my career.

“I know you’re expecting to have your annual review, but you won’t be having it because your job has been eliminated.”

Thus ended the saga that had begun the previous year when she became my manager. In the intervening weeks, she systematically removed most of my responsibilities, excluded me from meetings, and barred me from customer visits. Things became so stressful I wondered if God wanted me to stay or leave. I asked friends to pray for clear direction and wisdom to know what to do.

As the day of my review approached, I became increasingly convinced I’d be fired or put on probation. Even so, hearing my manager’s words stunned me. My first thought? “This is real.” My second? “Thank You, Lord, for giving me a definite answer.”

A Fateful End

The HR Director came in as my manager and her boss departed. She described the severance package and legal details surrounding the abrupt end of my job. She also instructed me to turn in my badge, company credit card, and computer and leave without saying goodbye to anyone.

I followed her directions, each step feeling surreal. I exited the building, entered the misty chill of the gray winter afternoon, and walked to my parking spot one last time.

The following morning, I awoke to brilliant sunshine streaming in my window. Though I still couldn’t fully grasp my new status – unemployed after working over 30 years for the same company – I clung to my belief in God’s goodness and His sovereignty. I posted on Facebook, “30+ years of continuous employment came to a halt yesterday when my job was eliminated. God obviously has something else for me to do. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

A New Beginning

Even so, I couldn’t imagine the gift God had planned for me. Two days after I was let go, I contacted the local technical college and began the process of returning to school to study horticulture. Six months later, my first grandchild, Joshua, was born. Eighteen months after that, he and his mother (my daughter Mary) and great-grandmother (my mom) were at my graduation. They watched me realize my dream of receiving an Environmental Horticulture diploma.

In the years since graduation day, my granddaughters were born. I’ve had the joy of spending time with them and Joshua on a regular basis since their earliest days, something I wouldn’t have been able to do if I’d been working full-time.

The intervening years have held some hard times too. Mom’s health declined as she progressed through her 80s, and then she passed away several months shy of her 90th birthday. Six months after her passing, Dad experienced a stroke.

Being happily retired[1] has allowed me the flexibility to help my family members, both young and old, pursue my passion for horticulture, become involved in women’s ministry at my church, and develop my writing skills. Though some may have meant evil against me, God surely meant the job elimination for good (Genesis 50:20).

Telling of His Glorious Deeds

We’re in good company when we retell our stories. The Israelites repeatedly told the story of God’s deliverance. In fact, God commanded them to tell the story to future generations so they would know the glorious deeds of the Lord (Psalm 78).

And what story did they tell? The story of God’s rescue, how He brought them out of slavery in Egypt by sending plagues,  sparing the firstborn sons of families whose houses had lambs’ blood on the door frames, and drowning Pharoah’s army in the Red Sea after the Israelites passed over on dry ground. He gave His chosen people laws to live by and provided for them as they wandered the desert for 40 years. Disobedience brought about consequences, yet throughout the Israelites’ history, God faithfully preserved a people for Himself, even grafting pagans and Gentiles into His family.

Our Common Story

No matter the details of our individual stories, believers share the story of God’s rescue. We weren’t enslaved to a human task master but, dead in our trespasses, we were enslaved by sin, in desperate need of a Savior (Ephesians 2:1-3). God sent His Son, the spotless Lamb, whose blood made it possible for God’s wrath to pass over us as it did the night He rescued His people from Egypt. Unlike the Passover lambs and subsequent sacrifices performed year after year, Jesus’ sacrifice was sufficient for all time (1 Peter 1:18-19).  

So, dear readers, let’s continue to tell our unique stories of God’s goodness and faithfulness as we seek to encourage others in similar circumstances. But even more, may we recognize that our little stories are part of God’s great big story of redemption and point others to the hope we have in Jesus, the One in whom all God’s promises are yes and amen (2 Corinthians 1:20).

Dear Lord, thank You for loving us so much that You sent Your beloved Son to save us from our sins and make us alive in Him. Our lives have meaning because You chose us to be your treasured possession. May we honor You by giving You the glory in all of our stories.

[1] One day after I graduated, I was at my Mary and son-in-law Justin’s house. I commented, “I guess I’m unemployed.” Justin quickly replied, “No! You’re happily retired!” I’ve gone with that ever since. 😊

A Light to My Path

/ Patsy Kuipers / 4 Comments

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.
Psalm 119:105

Annual Tradition

For as long as I can remember, I’ve set aside time in early January to reflect on the previous year’s events. I bet you won’t be surprised to learn I’ve recorded those reflections in numerous journal entries that now span decades.

Last week when I sat down to capture some thoughts about 2022, I found my mind turning not to the past twelve months but to January 2020 and all that’s happened since those pre-pandemic days. None of us could have imagined the changes Covid-19 would bring with it, which occurred so quickly that life as we knew it came to an abrupt halt and hasn’t returned.

But there were personal cataclysms too, as Mom passed away and Dad had a stroke and moved into assisted living, culminating in the sale of the home they’d shared for nearly 25 years, the site of frequent family gatherings. Then there was the upheaval that befell my grandson, sending shock waves through our close-knit clan.[1]

So much loss. So many changes.

But God

As my mind replayed scenes from the past three years, I thought about how thankful I was not to have known what awaited me as I stood at the beginning of 2020. Taken altogether, the events may have caused me to despair. Instead, viewing them with 20/20 hindsight confirmed what years of intentional reflections have taught me – God’s grace is sufficient (2 Corinthians 12:9), and His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23). Just like the manna that appeared each day in the wilderness, God provided what I needed to face each challenge as it came.

Indeed, for every hardship I recorded, it was equally evident how God had faithfully prepared the way before me. I added those recollections to my burgeoning catalog of examples of God’s goodness, the one I refer to when I need to be reminded that He’s never forsaken me, and He never will (Deuteronomy 31:8).

One Step at a Time                 

Perhaps like me, you’ll read a passage of Scripture, one you’ve read numerous times in the past, only to have it speak to you in a new way. Such was the case last year when I was preparing a women’s Bible study lesson on God’s Word. Psalm 119:105 (see above) is a familiar verse. In fact, when it dances through my mind, it’s usually accompanied by the music of Amy Grant’s tune, Thy Word.[2]

Yet, I had an ah-ha moment while working on the lesson. It occurred to me that footlights don’t illuminate a large area. Think about the emergency lights on airplanes that lead you to exits if the cabin lights go out or the lights installed near the floor in theaters that yield just enough light for you to navigate the stairs when the house lights are dimmed.

That’s the way God’s Word is. It doesn’t lay out every step on our journey, but it gives us the light we need to take the next step, trusting in the Light, knowing that He not only knows every twist and turn in our path but also has intentionally and lovingly prepared the way for us.

Take Note

I recently began reading Seasons of Sorrow. In the prologue, author Tim Challies wrote, “I have often said that I don’t know what I think or what I believe until I write about it. Writing is how I reflect, how I meditate, how I chart life’s every journey.”[3] His statement resonates with me. I’ve journaled since I was a teen, and many of my entries follow the trajectory of the Psalms of lament, beginning with a troubling scenario, winding through anxious thoughts, then settling on all I know to be true about God and His care.

I’m not naïve enough to think everyone processes life that way. I know some of you may loathe writing, but I want to encourage you to at least jot down examples of how you see the Lord working in your life this year, maybe in a gratitude journal or simply on a calendar. As time passes, it’s relatively easy to recall momentous events where we’ve seen God at work, but not as easy to remember the small ones.

Yet it’s in those daily details that we see how intimate and personal our relationship with our Father truly is. For the One who set the stars in place and causes the sun to rise and set, who appointed the seasons and the boundaries for the mighty oceans, also knows each of His children by name and oversees their coming and going (Psalm 139:1-6).

Eternal Light

As we stand at the beginning of this new year, it’s natural to wonder what it holds, to make plans, and maybe even pen a resolution or two. Like years past, it will undoubtedly encompass a mix of joys and sorrows. Some will catch us by surprise, while we eagerly anticipate others.

Even though we can’t see very far down the road, and we may face many changes, we belong to the One who never changes, who’s promised never to leave or forsake us. We can count on Him to go before us as He has in the past, leading us ever closer to Home, where there will be no need of lamplight or sunlight, for the Lord Himself will be our everlasting light (Revelation 22:5).

Dear Lord, thank You for the gift of Your Word, full of guidance and promises. Through it, we see that You are a good Father, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Please help us not to run ahead into the darkness but to recall all You’ve done for us in the past, knowing You will be faithful to accomplish Your purposes for us and complete the good work You’ve begun.

[1] Please see “A Grandmother’s Heart,” in Archives, October 2022.

[2] “Thy Word,” released 1990. Lyrics by Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith.

[3] Tim Challies, Seasons of Sorrow, the pain of loss and the comfort of God (Grand Rapids: Zondervan), xiv

God’s Ambassadors

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”
Matthew 5:14-16

A Brief Encounter

One of the first things I do each day is to check the weather. I suppose it’s the gardener in me. The week before Christmas, I noticed an alarming trend in temperatures forecasted for the holiday weekend. Even though I know our single-digit lows would be welcome in other parts of the country where temperatures plunged well below zero, they can cause problems for pipes, plants, and pets here in Georgia.

As many of you know, I count the birds that frequent my feeders as my outside pets. Thus, wanting to make sure I had plenty of food on hand and knowing I wouldn’t have time to make it to Home Depot, I opted to pick up a bag of mixed seeds when I got my groceries.

While I was perusing the choices, another woman joined me in front of the birdseed shelves. Detecting a kindred spirit, I commented, “I hope the birds will be ok when the deep freeze gets here.”

She replied, “Me too! They have downy feathers to keep warm, right?”

Trying to reassure her, I said, “They fluff up too to provide extra insulation.” (My 11-year-old grandson Joshua, a treasury of animal facts, and I had a conversation about that a few days before my trek to the grocery store, so I felt confident in my assertion.)

Still troubled, she said, “But what about their little feet and legs?”

That one stumped me, though if Joshua had been there, I have no doubt he would have had an explanation for why birds’ feet don’t freeze. Instead, in an attempt to ease our concerns, I stated something I knew to be true. “The Bible says God watches over the birds, so we’ll trust Him to do that.”

She smiled. “You’re right. It does.”

I added, “And we’ll do our part to make sure they have food.”

Another smile, “Yes, we will.”

We each selected a bag of seeds, wished each other Merry Christmas, and went our separate ways.

Deep Freeze

The forecast proved to be correct. Temperatures plummeted, lows were below 10 degrees, and three days passed with highs in the teens and 20s. When we finally made it above freezing, it felt like a heat wave!

As is my custom, I refilled the feeders each morning and returned them to their hooks on my deck. The first frigid morning, I peered expectantly out the kitchen window, awaiting the arrival of my bird friends.

I didn’t have to wait long. Soon a steady stream of customers was coming and going, consuming seeds even more rapidly than usual. The birds, including their tiny feet and legs, made it through the wintry blast. But I knew they would because I’ve seen God protect them through other unfavorable conditions. Their calm during those times, happily feeding, unphased by the adverse circumstances, reminds me that the One who watches over the birds and flowers also watches over me (Matthew 6:26-33). [1]

Shining the Light

Christmas is about God meeting our greatest need, our need for a Savior. The Apostle Paul, writing to the believers in Rome, assured them that if God didn’t withhold His only Son, He surely wouldn’t withhold any lesser thing (Romans 8:32).

As children of the King, we know our Father will meet all our needs and will never forsake us. Even so, there are times we need someone to remind us. As I told my fellow bird lover, we can do our part to care for those God places in our circle. Sometimes it looks like making sure the bird feeders are full. At others, it means sharing a word of truth in a brief encounter with a stranger to help turn their eyes toward Jesus. Then again, it involves consistently being life-givers to close family and friends, those we know best.[2]

Regardless of the situation, we’re God’s ambassadors, called to be light in a world filled with darkness because we belong to the Light that darkness cannot overcome (John 1:4-5).

Each week, our pastor encourages us to embrace, embody, and extend the love and grace we’ve received in Christ. I pray you’ll consider that to be part of your mission, too, as we begin a new year. May we always endeavor to shine for God’s glory.

Dear Lord, how blessed we are to be called Your children, and what a privilege You’ve bestowed upon us to be Your representatives. Please help us to care for Your creation and our fellow image-bearers with humble, grateful hearts, acknowledging all You’ve done for us.  

[1] Please see “Through the Storm,” Archives, September 2017.

[2] If you’re unfamiliar with the concept of being a life-giver, please see the “Give Life” tab and “Bucket-fillers” in Archives, November 2018.