When we least expect it

September 11, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / 1 Comment

It caught my eye as soon as I pulled into the driveway, weary from a homeward drive after a week at the beach. So much time had passed since the cream-colored lycoris bloomed, I didn’t even remember it was there. Yet despite its long absence, in a perfectly-timed reappearance, it provided a cheerful, “Welcome home!” Its return was even sweeter because my late husband, Ray, planted the bulb from which it sprouted over two decades ago. The intriguing inflorescence showed up again this year, accompanied a week or so later by another long-forgotten specimen in an adjacent flower bed. But I haven’t seen a single red one yet, even though several of them flowered last year. No wonder “surprise lily” is one of lycoris’ common names![1]

Jesus said His promised return will be a surprise. In fact, He said no one knows the day or hour except the Father. (Matthew 24:36) After making this statement, Jesus went on to tell several parables emphasizing the importance of being watchful and ready. First, there’s the tale of the master of the house who would have stayed awake to protect his dwelling from a break-in had he known when the thief would arrive. (Matthew 24:43-44) Then there’s the story contrasting the behavior of faithful and wicked servants, (Matthew 24:45-51) followed by the tale of the ten virgins, five wise and five foolish. (Matthew 25:1-14) All three have the same admonition: be prepared! Our Master may return at any moment.

The Old Testament is full of prophecies regarding Jesus’ incarnation, yet 400 years passed from the time of the last one until His appearance – more than enough time for people to forget or doubt. Nonetheless, God preserved the memory of His covenant promises across all those centuries, as exemplified by Simeon and Anna. Both were devout. Both watched hopefully for the coming of the Savior. Enlightened by the Spirit, they exulted over weeks-old Jesus when He was presented at the Temple, knowing the long-awaited One was before them. (Luke 2:22-36)

The wait for Jesus’ return is nearing 2,000 years. I rejoice that I am one of those expectantly waiting because generations before me told their children who in turn told their children so the marvelous message of God’s glorious deeds would not be forgotten. (Psalm 78:1-4) Likewise, we must tell our children and grandchildren of His great love and faithfulness, and instruct them in His commandments. (Deuteronomy 6:4-7)

When my mom was a little girl, talk of the impending end of the world scared her. In her wisdom, my grandmother told her, “Honey, the end of the world comes for someone every day.” And so it does, sometimes when we least expect it. On a beautiful spring day, my husband went to work, suffered a fatal heart attack and never returned home.[2]

Whether we remain until Jesus returns or He calls us Home before, may we be found ready and watchful, faithfully going about our Father’s business. Though the timing is unknown, His second coming is as certain as His first and our eternal destiny is secure.

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words. (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18)

[1] Common names for Lycoris radiata include surprise lily, hurricane lily and spider lily.

[2] Because I’m writing this on September 11^th, I want to remember the ones who left home 17 years ago and didn’t return either.

Thank You!

September 4, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

IMG_6549 (3) I don’t know about you, but there are times when I’m truly confounded by the things small children quibble over. For example, my dear grandchildren, ages 2, 4 and 7, will argue about whose turn it is to say the blessing. In fact, they’ll talk over said blessing should one of them start praying before we’ve fully sorted out whose turn it is. Although I’d like to think their bickering arises because they realize how important it is to thank God, I’m afraid it is due instead to a desire for the honor of saying it.

Ah, teachable moments around the table for sure. I’ve tried telling them they can each say a blessing or we can all pray together because God delights in hearing from us and receiving our praises, all to no avail. And so I’m often left silently raising a petition of my own, “Lord, please help them to always have this much enthusiasm when it comes to wanting to thank You!”

Several weeks ago, I was helping daughter, Mary tuck the children in. 7-year-old Joshua selected the recounting of Jesus healing the 10 lepers from his children’s Bible as his bedtime story. In my ESV[1] Bible, the narrative in the Gospel of Luke appears as follows:

On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.” (Luke 17:11-19)

All ten of the lepers cried out to Jesus to heal them. All ten had faith He could do so and followed His command to present themselves to the priest even though the healing didn’t occur immediately in Jesus’ presence. Yet only one took the time to come back and thank Him. And this was no weak, afterthought of a “thanks”. Look again. The passage states the man was praising God with a loud voice and fell on his face at Jesus’ feet in gratitude.

When’s the last time we’ve acknowledged God’s good gifts with such exuberant praise? Not only do we rarely demonstrate such gratitude, but too often we behave like the nine who didn’t return to thank Jesus at all, overlooking or taking for granted His many blessings. Scripture is clear that God is worthy of all praise and thanks. David’s prayer after the Israelites made their offerings for the construction of the Temple is exemplary in acknowledging God’s ownership and benevolence:

Therefore David blessed the Lord in the presence of all the assembly. And David said: “Blessed are you, O Lord, the God of Israel our father, forever and ever. Yours, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the victory and the majesty, for all that is in the heavens and in the earth is yours. Yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and you are exalted as head above all. Both riches and honor come from you, and you rule over all. In your hand are power and might, and in your hand it is to make great and to give strength to all. And now we thank you, our God, and praise your glorious name. But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able thus to offer willingly? For all things come from you, and of your own have we given you.” (1Chronicles 29:10-14)

Jesus himself set an example for us by thanking the Father for sustenance (Matthew 15:36; John 6:11), as well as for hearing His prayers. (John 11:41) And the Apostle Paul repeatedly thanked God for the faith of his fellow believers (see, for example, Romans 1:8, 1 Corinthians 1:4, and Ephesians 1:15-16) and for the inexpressible gift of salvation itself (1 Corinthians 15:57; 2 Corinthians 9:15), reminding us of Jesus’ teaching regarding the superiority of imperishable spiritual treasure. (Matthew 6:19-20)

Furthermore, in his letter to the Colossians, Paul instructed his readers three times in as many sentences to be thankful:

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. 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 3:15-17)

From the priceless gift of salvation to daily bread, from the beauty of creation to the warmth of friendship, from answered prayer to our very breath and every heartbeat, the reasons to thank God are infinite. Let us avail ourselves of myriad opportunities to praise Him. In so doing, may we model for our little ones how important it is to thank Him with happy hearts and joyful voices for His gracious gifts – not for our glory, but for His.

[1] English Standard Version

You have not

August 30, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

I enjoy volunteering at a small botanical garden near my home. Occasionally, volunteers are treated to horticulture-related field trips in appreciation for our service. Most of these excursions occur on Mondays since the garden is closed that day. Unfortunately, this timing coincides with Grammie Mondays – what my grandchildren have come to call one of the two days a week I stay with them while my daughter, Mary, goes into her employer’s office to work.

Mary’s been extra-busy the past few weeks, covering her usual assignments, getting three little ones back to school. and picking up some of a co-worker’s responsibilities while she’s on maternity leave. Thus, when I received an e-mail invitation to a behind-the-scenes, Monday tour of the Atlanta Botanical Garden, I didn’t even ask Mary if she could spare me for a few hours. Instead, I showed up for Grammie duty as usual, not begrudgingly, but still somewhat disappointed not to be with my fellow volunteers, oohing and aahing over floral displays and beautifully-landscaped vistas.

When I arrived, Mary told me she was planning to work from home so she could take 2-year-old Emma to an afternoon doctor’s appointment. Wow! I should have asked!! Not that having an extra adult around isn’t always helpful, but I could have gone to ABG and returned to pick 4-year-old Lyla up from pre-school and still been back to Mary’s in plenty of time to stay with Lyla and 7-year-old Joshua while Mary took Emma to get her immunizations.

But I didn’t ask. I assumed. And because I didn’t want to bother Mary or add to her stress, I made the decision unilaterally. However, by not asking, I also didn’t give her a chance to answer, to say yes, to bless me by giving me the opportunity to do something special.

As those of you who’ve read my posts for any length of time know, I’m a ponderer. And so I’ve been mulling over this turn of events, wondering how many other things I’ve missed out on simply because I didn’t ask. Help from willing friends? I don’t want to impose. Encouraging conversation with a spiritual sister over a meal? I bet she’s busy with her family responsibilities. If I spent a little time, this list could no doubt be extensive.

Yet the most sobering examples are times when I haven’t asked God. Years ago, I realized I was praying to God about BIG things, but I didn’t want to bother Him with matters I thought were too trivial. After all, He’s a BIG God, Sovereign over everything. He spoke the world into existence (Genesis 1:1-25), makes the sun rise and set (Jeremiah 31:35), and sustains all of creation. (Matthew 6:25-34)

Thankfully, the infinite, Almighty God has shown me He is also our loving Heavenly Father, who delights in giving good gifts to His children. (Matthew 7:9-11) In fact, He made it possible for us to have a relationship with Him by giving us the most costly gift imaginable, His precious Son. (John 3:16) Jesus is now seated at the right hand of God, interceding for us (Romans 8:34) so we may approach the throne of grace confidently, to receive mercy and find grace in our time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)

One verse in particular underscored my reflections this week and inspired the title of this post: “You do not have because you do not ask God.” (James 4:2b) Lest you think James was espousing what’s come to be known as the “prosperity gospel” or “name it and claim it”, he goes on to say, “You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions.” (James 4:3) God isn’t Santa Claus or a benevolent Grandfather. When we ask, we are to ask in accordance with His will, not our own and accept His response. (Matthew 6:10; Matthew 26:39, 42, 44)[1]

The beauty of our promised sanctification is that we are being conformed more and more to the likeness of Jesus. (Romans 8:29) As our minds are renewed we are increasingly able to discern God’s will, what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:2)

Had I asked, Mary may have said no. Sometimes God says no. Nevertheless, He bids us to bring our petitions to Him in faith. (John 15:7; Philippians 4:6; 1 John 5:14) May we not be found lacking because we fail to do so.

O Lord, we stand amazed that You who set the moon and stars in their places would deign to notice us. (Psalm 8:3-4)) Yet You’ve adopted us into your family and call us beloved children. (Romans 8:16-17; 1 John 3:1) May we continuously raise our prayers to You, (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18) knowing that You didn’t spare your precious Son and will, along with Him, graciously give us all we need for our Homeward journey. (Romans 8:32)

[1] Jesus taught this principle in both His words and His actions.

The ring

August 21, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

So many unpleasant, unfamiliar decisions accompany the sudden death of a beloved spouse. The first few days after Ray’s passing found me shrouded in a protective state of semi-shock, barely able to think, yet having to make one difficult choice after another – dates, places and times of visitation, funeral, burial and the details of each. My mind would churn and churn and finally spit out an answer, only to go numb again until being summoned for another round of decisions.

The initial weeks of incredulity passed and the realization Ray wasn’t coming back sank deeper into my soul leaving me with new, every-bit-as difficult questions: How long should I keep his clothes? What should I do with his other things? Is there a proper time to stop wearing my wedding ring?

Every time I dreamt about Ray after giving away his clothes, I would apologize profusely, “I’m so sorry I gave your clothes away! I didn’t think you were coming back.”

Ray was never angry in those nighttime encounters. Instead, he calmly assured me, “It’s ok. I don’t need them anymore!”

Over and over, slight variations of the dream plagued my restless nights, until they and the deep-seated angst that spawned them finally subsided.

But what to do about my wedding ring?[1] I took it off about six months after Ray died, didn’t like the look or feel of my naked finger, put it back on, then went through the sequence again. When I sought to retrieve my ring from its place in my jewelry cabinet the second time, there was only an empty slot where it should have been. I closed the drawer and re-opened it more slowly, hoping, praying the ring would reappear. The repeated action, accompanied by a rising sense of panic, yielded the same result. The vacant spot glared accusingly as regret overtook me. Why, oh why had I ever taken my ring off to begin with?

The knot in my stomach grew as I tried to piece together what happened to my ring. I’d only taken it off a few days earlier. No one other than immediate family had been in my house since. A sickening realization seized me: someone had paid a visit – an HVAC technician. I hadn’t monitored his visit the day before, instead trusting him to service my furnaces and leave my things alone. How could I have been so naïve?

I called the HVAC company to report my suspicions and trailed the next tech around like a puppy on a leash as he confirmed the other guy hadn’t done the service. He’d spent the time pilfering my ring and a few other items and pawned them before I even knew they were missing.[2] He’d also been stealing from his employer; a fact discovered when they took possession of his company-issued van and inspected its contents.

I was heart-broken at losing my wedding and engagement rings, such an important part of my history with Ray. The business owner agreed to pay to have them replaced so I searched through my records, found the original receipts, including diamond and band descriptions, and called the jewelry store in Delaware. They still carried bands by that jewelry designer and they had a diamond of similar size and quality in stock. A week or so later, I received my new rings, soldered together and engraved “RNK to PLT, 8-5-83” just like the first ones.

I gazed in wonder at the rings and bittersweet tears filled my eyes. Gratitude for having my precious rings restored as close as possible to the originals mingled with sorrow. It took a little time and money, but I was able to replace my rings. Yet I knew if I sold all my belongings and scraped together every cent of the proceeds, I couldn’t ever pay anyone enough to get Ray back. One day, I will go to him. But he will never return to me. (2 Samuel 12:23)

Reverend Bob Auffarth pastored the church we attended in Delaware. On more than one occasion Pastor Auffarth commented, “I’ve never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul”, as he reminded us of the temporal nature of material possessions. His words took on new meaning the evening of April 19, 1997. My young daughters and I hurried to Kennestone Hospital, clinging to hope that Ray was alive. Instead, we received the unimaginable news he’d suffered a sudden, fatal heart attack. After making a few phone calls and gathering my wits as best I could, we readied ourselves to leave the hospital, our world forever changed. The patient care representative handed me a small plastic bag containing Ray’s wallet, watch and a few coins. Pastor Auffarth’s words came rushing back to me. Ray hadn’t taken even a penny with him.

Scripture is clear on the kind of treasure we’re to store up – the kind that can’t be stolen, the kind that will last for an eternity in heaven, the kind no U-Haul is capable of carrying. (Matthew 6:19-21) Knowing that Ray stored up much heavenly treasure during his brief life comforted me as I clutched the tiny bag in my trembling hands. He was a kind, gentle, godly man, who quietly served others and lived out his faith.

May we do likewise, using our gifts and abilities to benefit others and glorify God. All we have and are has been entrusted to us (1 Chronicles 29:14) One day we’ll be called upon to give an account of our stewardship (Mathew 25:14-30) and the nature of the treasure we’ve laid up will be revealed. (Romans 14:10-12; 1 Corinthians 3:10-15)

[1] My wedding band and engagement ring were soldered together so the pattern on the bands would be aligned correctly. So, even though I refer to the missing “ring”, both rings were stolen.

[2] This information came out during the police investigation.

Never say never

August 15, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / 3 Comments

Unlike many of my posts, this week’s isn’t inspired by a garden epiphany or family events, past or present. No, this one is born of a desire to share some long-held reflections on the lives of two prominent men in Scripture. One’s actions remind me that no matter how long we’ve walked with the Lord, we’re still capable of committing unthinkable sins. The reclamation of the other affirms that God’s elect, even those who appear to be hopelessly lost, are never beyond His reach. The former shout a warning; the latter shines a beacon of hope.

King David
The shepherd-boy who slayed Goliath grew up to become God’s chosen king. Yet, after years of experiencing God’s favor and protection and blessing, he sinned by blatantly breaking several of the Ten Commandments. David didn’t begin by devising a murderous scheme. As is often the case when we go astray, his downfall resulted from a series of bad choices and poor decisions. Each one escalated the situation and led him further and further down the path of disobedience. (James 1:13-15)

2 Samuel 11 recounts the whole sordid scenario. David’s first mistake? He didn’t lead his troops into battle against the Ammonites. (v. 1) He chose to stay home instead, which meant he was available to take an afternoon stroll on his rooftop. As he gazed about, he spied a beautiful woman, mid-bath. Instead of respectfully averting his eyes, he inquired as to who she was. Even when informed that she was a married woman, he had her brought to the palace so he could lay with her. (vs. 2-4) When this dalliance led to Bathsheba becoming pregnant, King David concocted a scheme to bring her husband back from the front lines so he could spend time with his wife. But Uriah was an honorable man and refused the conjugal visit while his fellow soldiers and the ark remained camped in an open field. Instead, he slept at the door of the king’s house. The next day, David encouraged him to go to Bathsheba, even making him drunk. Still Uriah refused. (vs. 5-13)

With his plan to avert suspicion about Bathsheba’s pregnancy thwarted, King David became more desperate and his devices more diabolical. He instructed his commander, Joab, to abandon Uriah on the battlefield so that the enemy forces could easily take his life. His wretched orders were carried out and Uriah perished. (vs. 14-25) David took the widowed Bathsheba to be his wife and she bore him a son. (vs. 26) But the thing that David had done displeased the LORD. (v. 27, emphasis mine)

God doesn’t let his children’s wanderings go on forever. Like a loving Father, He disciplines those who belong to Him. (Hebrews 12:5-11) And so He sent Nathan the prophet to confront David with a story that at first incensed him and then brought him to his knees in repentance. (2 Samuel 12:1-9)[1] God is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from our sins. (1 John 1:9) Nonetheless, we must often deal with the consequences of our behavior and for David, the consequences were dire indeed. (2 Samuel 12:10-14)

Saul
Saul’s transformation is every bit as astounding as David’s disgrace. Before meeting Jesus on the road to Damascus, Saul was one of the most zealous pursuers and persecutors of the early believers. He was there, giving assent, when Stephen was stoned. (Acts 7:58) And when the great persecution of the church took place, he entered house after house, dragging off men and women and committing them to prison. (Acts 8:3) Still breathing out murderous threats, he obtained letters from the high priest empowering him to search the synagogues of Damascus for others belonging to the Way that he might bring them, bound, to Jerusalem. (Acts 9:1-2)

But on the way, Saul encountered the living Christ. He was blinded by His radiant presence and convicted by His question, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”

And he said, “Who are you, Lord?”

And He said, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But rise and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” (Acts 9:3-6)

Saul’s reputation for harassing believers was widely known so it’s understandable why Ananias was reluctant to follow God’s instructions to go to Saul that he might lay hands on him and restore his sight. (Acts 9:10-14) Nevertheless, God assured Ananias he had nothing to fear from the man He’d chosen to carry His name to the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel. (Acts 9:15) His sight restored, and filled with the Holy Spirit, Saul began boldly proclaiming Jesus to be the Son of God, confounding his listeners who knew him before his conversion. (Acts 9:17-22)

The man with a stellar Hebrew pedigree, (Philippians 3:4-6) who hated those of the Way and the Savior they worshiped became Paul, the apostle. He counted his upbringing and all he’d previously depended on to gain favor with God as loss in light of the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ as Savior. (Philippians 3:4-11) And, just as Jesus told Ananias he would, Paul suffered much for his Lord. (2 Corinthians 11:24-29)

Two men. Two lives touched by God and empowered by the Spirit. Two stories recorded for our edification. (1 Corinthians 10:11; 2 Timothy 3:16) Ultimately, both are about God’s amazing grace. None of us is saved or lost based on our deeds. Our salvation is a gift from our loving Father, leaving no room for boasting. (Ephesians 2:8)

Let us never become complacent or proud, thinking we’re beyond the reach of temptation, but avail ourselves of the means of escape God provides. (1 Corinthians 10:12-13) Neither let us grow weary in praying for our unbelieving friends or family members, remembering that none of the Good Shepherd’s sheep will be lost. (John 10:27-30)

[1] See also Psalm 51, David’s powerful prayer of repentance.

Milestones and memories

August 7, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

1-10-5-67-5-35

Self-picked numbers on a Powerball ticket? Nope! Those numbers relate to early-August marital milestones:

8-1-2008 – Ten years ago, daughter Mary and her high school sweetheart, Justin, tied the knot outdoors on a muggy summer evening. At the reception which followed, over 300 family members and friends joyfully celebrated the union of two young people they had watched grow up.
8-5-1951 – My parents said their vows before a South Carolina Justice of the Peace since Dad’s brief leave from the Air Force wouldn’t accommodate the church ceremony Mom hoped for. Their now-67 years together are a true testament to the power of prayer and perseverance.
8-5-1983 – Ray and I married on Mom and Dad’s 32^nd wedding anniversary in a stuffy, air-conditionless sanctuary filled with wilting attendees, some of whom still refer to our ceremony as the hottest wedding EVER. For the past week, I’ve been reminiscing, yearning to celebrate a 35^th anniversary with my long-departed spouse.

I’d always dreamed of a spring wedding. But when I met my prince charming, he hailed from South Dakota farm country and spring is planting season. Someone suggested August as the best month for our mid-western relatives to travel. The 5^th fell on a Friday that year, so it seemed like a great idea to get married on my parents’ anniversary, making the event doubly-special.

25 years later, Mary and Justin chose to wed in the warmest month of the year too, but by then, there was no dad to walk Mary down the aisle. Instead, she bravely trod the runner-clad distance herself, since no one could take the place of the man who first captured her little-girl heart. I linked arms with her to walk the last few steps to the altar, then gave her away, without reservation, to a young man I knew her dad would not only approve of, but would have been good friends with. A single red rose[1] and an empty chair next to mine served to remind all in attendance of the one we carried in our hearts.

There are no days when thoughts of Ray don’t inhabit my mind, not a single one when I don’t long to talk to him. But there are some seasons when the thoughts are more numerous, the recollections bittersweet. April, the month of his passing, and August, laden with anniversaries of all those family nuptials, bring with them so many memories. My reminiscences are occasionally punctuated with, “Why, Lord?” The question escapes my soul not in a shake-my-fist manner as you might imagine, but like a deep, lonely sigh. From my finite human perspective, having Ray with us all these years seems like a better storyline. Surely we would have benefitted greatly from the presence of a godly, loving husband and father and now, grandfather, right?

I distinctly remember the point in my grieving process when I had to wrestle with the fact Ray’s death was no accident. Accepting God’s sovereignty was a critically important crossroads in my faith journey. I knew God hadn’t glanced away only to turn back and be surprised to see Ray in the throes of a fatal heart attack. No, God never lost sight of Ray. (Psalm 34:15) Each one of my beloved husband’s days was written in God’s book before even one came to be. (Psalm 139:16)

Within hours of Ray’s passing, I posed a question to one of our pastors, “Do you think Ray can see us? Not to see how sad we are, but to know how much we love him?”

Pastor Allen replied kindly, carefully, “Scripture isn’t clear on what the departed know, but God can make known to them whatever He sees fit.”

I’ve often prayed God would let Ray discern how much I love him, to know there’s a place in my heart only he can fill and to see the lasting, positive impact of his unconditional love on my life. And on the many momentous days we’ve experienced without him – high school and college graduations, weddings, the births of three precious grandchildren – I’ve pleaded, “Lord, please help Ray to see. This is his legacy too.”

Yes, my heart aches when I envision how things could have been. Yet I know my story would be so different if Ray had been with me all these years. I most likely wouldn’t have gone back to school to study horticulture. I may not have started this blog. And I’m certain I wouldn’t comprehend the love and faithfulness of my Father as intimately, had I not been depending on Him instead of my earthly husband. (Psalm 68:5)

God writes our stories in such a way that we’ll be conformed more and more to the likeness of Jesus, fitted for eternal life with Him. (Romans 8:28-30) And how better to know our Savior than to partake of God’s sustaining grace through times of hardship and sorrow, to die to self-will and accept God’s plan as best. (Matthew 26:36-39) It’s not all about happiness in the here-and-now, but it does have a delightful ending and a promise of eternal peace and joy in His presence. (Psalm 16:11)

My grandchildren are getting old enough to understand the man by my side in the wedding photo on Mary’s wall is their grandpa in heaven. My heart leapt yesterday when 2-year-old Emma mentioned Grandpa Kuipers for the first time. I love telling them about Ray, sharing his love for God and people and plants and assuring them they’ll get to meet him one day.

As I’ve thought about my would-be 35^th anniversary and 13-year marriage, a line kept skipping through my mind: “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” And so I smile, because Ray and I did happen. I praise God for blessing me with a godly husband, whose love and influence continue to this day and who I’ll surely see again. Our marriage was so short, but, in light of eternity, our temporary separation will be as well. (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

[1] Please see, “A single red rose” in Archives, December 2014, to understand the significance of this floral choice.

Come to Me

July 31, 2018July 31, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

I well-remember the exhaustion I felt as a mother of two pre-school daughters, working full-time for a large corporation. There were numerous occasions when I wouldn’t even hear my night-owl husband, Ray, gently close our bedroom door as he crept out after we’d said our prayers. I could have been featured on a sleep clinic commercial, along with the old adage, “asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.”

A few fleeting years later, emotional weariness joined my physical fatigue. My beloved spouse died unexpectedly, felled by a fatal heart attack weeks after his 39^th birthday. Suddenly left alone to parent my daughters (7 and 10 years old at the time), I clung to God for daily strength. Above all else, I prayed for wisdom. And I repeatedly petitioned Him to let me live long enough to raise my girls. Unbearable thoughts of them being orphaned fueled my pleas.*

Nonetheless, some nights found me too worn-out to formulate a coherent prayer. In the brief moments between crawling under the covers and drifting off to sleep, I counted on the Spirit’s knowing my unspoken needs and interceding for me with groans too deep for words. (Romans 8:26-27) Furthermore, I imagined myself in my Father’s lap, wrapped in His loving arms. “Please, Lord, just hold me. I’m so tired.”

Though I’m often reminded this world is not my home, I’ve been acutely aware of the ever-present brokenness in my not-Home in recent days – from malfunctioning printer technology to discord in cherished relationships, from self-doubt to minor frustrations to major misunderstandings. I’ve grieved my own short-comings and been disappointed by those of others. Day after day, my heart has cried out to the Lord for relief and restoration, longing for peace and beauty and the promised perfecting of all things.

Jesus bids us come. All who are weary and burdened. He promises us rest. Not just any rest, but rest for our souls. (Matthew 11:28-29) Our gentle Savior took on flesh and walked this world. (John 1:14) He knows how difficult it is, how fear and anxiety and hopelessness can produce tired, troubled souls. Not only does He invite us to take His yoke upon us and learn of Him, but He:

Promises to never leave us or forsake us. (Deuteronomy 31:8)
Invites us to cast our cares on Him because He cares for us. (1 Peter 5:6-7)
Tells us not to be anxious, but to bring our prayers and petitions to Him. (Philippians 4:6-7)
Advises us not to worry about what we will eat or drink or wear. (Matthew 6:25-34)
Instructs us to fear not. Though we will have troubles in this world, He has overcome the world. (John 16:33)
Reminds us He is preparing a place for us and will return to take us Home. (John 14:2-3)

Throughout these difficult days, I’ve felt God’s comforting presence. His tender ministrations have manifested themselves in ways as varied as my heartaches:

A blog post from a fellow writer which provided encouragement to keep writing and bolstered my diminished confidence.
A phone call from my daughter who listened patiently to my sob-punctuated litany of sorrows which burst forth upon hearing her concerned, “Are you ok, Mom?”
Lunch with a long-time spiritual sister whose wisdom and calm presence I cherish, one who helps me regain a proper perspective.
An extended phone conversation with my other daughter, who I see at least twice weekly but rarely have time to chat with because of the three little ones clamoring for our attention.

And then there was Saturday, beautiful, soul-satisfying Saturday, spent in my garden. When I went out to water my thirsty plants, God bestowed upon me a tiny glimpse of the way it will be in His Garden. As sunlight filtered through the floriferous branches of my 7-27-2013, My beautiful crape myrtle crape myrtle, sights and sounds of early-morning re-awakening greeted me. Two glistening gold finches balanced atop gently-swaying stalks of verbena, expertly extracting the tasty seed. All kinds of busy pollinators buzzed in and out of colorful blossoms. A bejeweled hummingbird hovered near the lantana. Butterflies zig-zagged lazily in the breeze. Birds chirped and frolicked in the sprinkler spray. My heart exulted.

One day the children of God will be revealed. The groaning will stop and all things will be made new. (Romans 8:18-21; Revelation 21:4)) Until then, may our world-weary souls find rest in Him and may we have eyes to see and ears to hear the evidence of His lavish love all around us. (Matthew 7:11; James 1:17)

*God not only graciously granted that prayer, but I’m now Grammie to three precious grandchildren.

A proper diagnosis

July 24, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Even though I’ve faithfully stretched and exercised throughout my adult years, I have stiff muscles. Various stressors, both physical and emotional, have no doubt contributed to my tightly-wound state. The tension increases and decreases, often without a clearly-discernible cause and effect, but it never disappears completely.

Earlier this year, a prolonged period of tender-to-the-touch joints and knotty muscles left me feeling dejected. Thankful a series of medical tests ruled out several serious possibilities, but being no closer to a solution, I procured a referral for physical therapy.

When I went for the initial evaluation, I told the therapist she was my last hope. She maintained a professional demeanor, but I’m almost certain she thought, “Just great! How did this woman end up on my schedule?” Nonetheless, she proceeded with the assessment, asking questions and directing me to bend first one way, then another.

In summarizing her findings, she stated, “Your overall strength is good and your range of motion is somewhat greater than normal. Your joints are loose.”

Attempting to interject some humor, I replied, “Then I guess it’s a good thing my muscles are tight so they can hold me together.”

The therapist didn’t laugh. Instead, she provided the missing piece that allowed me to solve the years-long mystery: “Oh, your muscles really are working over-time to provide the stability your joints and ligaments would normally provide.”

And what did I do with this critical bit of information? I turned to Google, of course! A search of “loose joints, tight muscles” yielded a name for my condition: joint hypermobility syndrome. As I read article after article, years of confounding experiences began to make sense. In trying to help myself, I’d unknowingly inflicted more harm, specifically by over-stretching and requesting too much pressure during my periodic massage therapy sessions. Sadly, my body interpreted these efforts as an assault on the alternative stabilization method it had established. The outcome: more tightness, more trigger points, more tenderness around my joints.

Physical and spiritual training require the proper equipment.

The relief of finally understanding what I’d been battling for so long mingled with deep disappointment at the realization I can’t fix it. It’s the way I’m put together. At best, I can learn how to manage it. Now enlightened, I’m focusing on strength and balance, paying more attention to posture, and being vigilant when it comes to adding pressure (physical and emotional) to an already-stressed system. I’m hopeful consistent implementation of these changes over time will be beneficial. Even so, I’m finding it difficult to be patient while my body adjusts to this new approach.

The spiritual parallels are hard to ignore. Before God calls us to himself, we lack a proper diagnosis. We sense something’s awry, something’s missing. Our attempts to feel better frequently result in the opposite or are short-lived. Because we’re created in God’s image (Genesis 1:27), made to glorify Him (Psalm 86:8-10) and enjoy fellowship with Him, nothing else can satisfy our souls’ deepest longings.*

At the appointed time, He replaces our hearts of stone with hearts of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26) We begin to understand our condition and the sin that separates us from our Father. There’s nothing we can do to repair our brokenness. (Ephesians 2:8-9) Fortunately, He doesn’t leave us in our helpless state. He sent his only begotten Son to heal our souls and restore the family bonds broken at the fall. (Genesis 3; John 3:16) Jesus, the Great Physician, took our infirmities on himself and bore our iniquities. His wounds brought about our healing. (Isaiah 53:4-5) His righteousness, graciously granted to we who were once lost, ensures our eternal inheritance. (1Peter 1:3-5)

Even though Jesus’ perfect obedience has been credited to our accounts, fully paying the debt we owe our Holy God, we will struggle with the effects of sin, ours and others’, as long as we’re in the this world. Like my impatience with my physical progress, there are times when, with the Apostle Paul, I bewail my inability to consistently obey my Father. (Romans 7:18-20) Nevertheless, with the help of the Spirit, we’re being conformed more and more to the likeness of our elder Brother. (Romans 8:29) Bit by bit, we shed the old and put on the new. (Romans 12:2)The transformation will continue until Jesus’ promised return, when all will be made new and perfect – no more sickness, no more sin, no more tears. (Revelation 21:4)

Until then, may we abide in the One who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine according to his power at work within us. (Ephesians 3:20)

* Several well-known quotes alluding to our “God-shaped void”:

“What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.” Blaise Pascal, Pensées, 1692

“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” St. Augustine, Confessions, c. AD 400.

“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, 1952.

I see you!

July 3, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

The week before last was one of those “what next?” kind of weeks. A series of small-to-medium challenges plus an inconceivable event that led to bewildered contemplation one sleepless night, had me hunkered down, bracing for the next volley. Nonetheless, I was cautiously optimistic when Saturday of the oh-so-trying week dawned, reminding myself the Lord’s mercies never fail, that they’re new every morning. (Lamentations 3:21-24)

I was barely halfway down the stairs, looking forward to a day at home to do a few chores, maybe some writing and a little weeding, when I saw it. Instead of facing outward toward the sun like its fellow flowers, one beautiful blossom on the althea on my front porch was peeking in the left sidelight. A joyful, irrepressible exclamation escaped my lips, “Good morning, Lord! Thank You!!” I knew, without a doubt, Who was responsible for the perfectly-placed greeting.

Several years ago, my kids introduced me to American Ninja Warrior. The amazing athletic feats performed by the participants plus some equally-inspiring backstories combine to make the show a much-anticipated staple of my summertime TV-viewing. Often, as a contestant makes their way through the obstacles, drawing ever-nearer to the podium where the announcers stand, one of the hosts will yell, “I see you (insert name of ninja)!”

The Lord’s Saturday-morning salutation shouted, “I see you, Patsy!” (Psalm 34:15) It was a reminder that none of what transpired the previous week went unnoticed by the One who’s promised to never leave me or forsake me. (Deuteronomy 31:6-8) The image of that flower stayed with me throughout the day and I’ve recalled it a number of times since, always with a smile, because my loving Father reached out in such an intimate way. I don’t think it’s far-fetched to imagine Him smiling as well, watching as his delighted daughter gazed out the window, appreciatively acknowledging his floral gesture which found its mark like an impeccably-aimed arrow. (Matthew 7:11)

This, friends, is my 100^th post. I expect a few long-time readers have noticed that I believe in acknowledging anniversaries and celebrating milestones, so I’ll also mention the 4^th anniversary of the debut of “Back 2 the Garden”. My main objective in launching my blog with “Consider it pure joy” on July 1, 2014, was to glorify God and to encourage my readers by proclaiming His faithfulness. My objective, all these posts later, remains the same.

Thank you to all of you who’ve read and commented. You’ve come alongside me on this journey and you encourage me to keep writing. In fact, I’ve been considering compiling some of my posts into a devotional book and would appreciate your thoughts about doing so. I love books – you can hold them and highlight them and re-read them – but the idea of publishing one is a bit intimidating! Nonetheless, it is a dream I pray the Lord will allow me to realize.

In the meantime, I will endeavor to write engaging posts for this site, using simple stories and everyday examples to tell of God’s extraordinary goodness and grace.

O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come. (Psalm 71:17-18)

Longing for Egypt

June 26, 2018 / Patsy Kuipers / 3 Comments

A recent devotional reading directed me to one of several Old Testament instances of God’s chosen people grumbling against Moses and Aaron. But, ultimately, their protests were against the Lord himself. The particular passage in Exodus recounts how the Israelites complained about not having anything to eat. This, as you may recall, occurred soon after God’s gracious provision of water from a rock in response to their grievance regarding thirst. (Exodus 15:23-25) The grumbling escalated to the point that they lamented the fact they’d ever left Egypt. “If we had only died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death”, they moaned. (Exodus 16:3)

To listen to their description, you’d think they’d been on an extended vacation. Had they so quickly forgotten God delivered them not from some idyllic existence, but from slavery?

IMG_6094 (2) Our pastor has been preaching through the book of Exodus. The events recorded in the second book of the Bible – the burning bush, the plagues, the parting of the Red Sea, the giving of the Ten Commandments – have been part of my Biblical knowledge for as long as I can remember, dating back to my childhood Sunday school classes. Nevertheless, this ongoing sermon series has yielded a number of thought-provoking insights for now-grown-up me to ponder.

Consider for example: When the people initially cried out to God, they were seeking relief, not rescue. (Exodus 2:23) By then, they’d been in Egypt 400 years and had grown accustomed to that culture. It felt like home. In fact, they even worshiped Egyptian gods.[1] The Israelites were focused on their day-to-day existence, just hoping conditions would improve. But God took note of the darkness of their spiritual condition. He knew He had to not only get his people out of Egypt; He had to get Egypt out of them.[2]

God initiated their deliverance. Indeed, He initiates the deliverance of every one of his children.[3] For until He calls us, we remain dead in our trespasses, unable to save ourselves or to even realize our need of salvation. (Ephesians 2:1-9) Furthermore, Jesus’ sacrificial death on our behalf frees us from the penalty of sin – God’s wrath and eternal separation from Him – as well as sin’s ultimate pull and power as we navigate life in a world that’s no more our Home than Egypt was home to those God freed from Pharaoh.

Nonetheless, as long as we’re in the flesh, surrounded by worldly influences without and our own not-yet-perfected desires within, we will struggle to do what’s right. The Apostle Paul outlines the ongoing battle well in Romans 7:18-20. God and sin both promise us joy, peace, and happiness, but sin lies. And it fights back with a vengeance when we try to get free.[4]

It’s so easy for us to read the accounts in Exodus and think, “What was wrong with those people?” They saw God do mighty miracles on their behalf, they heard his voice (Exodus 19:9, 16-19), they ate food He rained down from heaven (Exodus 16:4-36), yet they grumbled and complained and even longed for Egypt. But, sadly, we are capable of the same amnesia, grumbling and self-deceit when it comes to forgetting our helpless, hopeless estate apart from God, how vulnerable we are to temptation.

God, in his mercy, provides a way out when we’re tempted. (1 Corinthians 10:13) Even so, there are times when we turn away from the offered escape, rationalizing some sort of exemption for ourselves, yet knowing there are no such exemptions. It is then that our loving Father disciplines us, allowing consequences of our actions to chasten us and draw us back to himself. (Hebrews 12:5-11) The Spirit contends within us, reminding us Who we belong to, who we are called to be. My own times of wandering have convinced me that unless I live a life that satisfies God, I will not live a life which satisfies myself.[5] Obeying, loving and glorifying Him are to be my primary purpose, now and forever.

Just like the Israelites, we’re apt to forget or downplay distasteful aspects of our past. A wise counselor recommended I record the hardships I endured during a difficult situation some years ago. She advised, “In time you’ll forget how bad it was. Write down specific events, so you can look back and be reminded of the reality.” And so I did. And many are the times I’ve read what I recorded. Psalm 40:1-3 became my refrain: I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord.

O, Lord, throughout history, You’ve told your people to set up memorials, (Joshua 4:1-24), to observe days of remembrance, to recall your great mercies. (1 Corinthians 11:23-26)[6] May we never forget how lost we were before You found us and may we ever praise You for your daily protection and provision as You faithfully lead us Home.

[1] “The God Who Knows”, sermon, Pastor Ben Duncan, Grace Covenant Church, January 28, 2018.

[2] “Throwing Down the Gauntlet”, sermon, Pastor Ben Duncan, Grace Covenant Church, February 25, 2018.

[3] Ibid.

[4] “Throwing Down the Gauntlet, Part II”, sermon, Pastor Ben Duncan, Grace Covenant Church, March 11, 2018.

[5] Arthur Bennett, “The Valley of Vision, A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions”, p. 161, The Banner of Truth Trust, Edinburgh, 1975.

[6] The sacrament of Communion is one of our most important ways of remembering Jesus and his atoning sacrifice.