Children of God

Joys and Sorrows, Past and Present

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18

Missing Mom

I’m never sure how anniversaries and special occasions associated with now-departed loved ones will affect me. For some reason, the sorrow of facing another Mother’s Day, my fifth, without my beloved mother weighed heavily on me this year.

The floral shop is one of the first things I see when I enter the grocery store I frequent each week. I usually stroll by casually, perusing the pretty flowers and checking out the clearance section. After all, a bedraggled houseplant might need a home. However, on my shopping expedition a few days before Mother’s Day, I walked by briskly, trying not to gaze too long at the department overflowing with beautiful bouquets and cheerful balloons. I concentrated on my list instead of the fact that I wouldn’t be picking out anything for Mom. My heart ached knowing her sweet little self would have loved anything and everything I selected.

Timely Reminders

I returned home, put away my groceries, and opened my laptop to check email while I sipped the Starbucks tea I’d treated myself to. Fortunately, before I slipped any further into my melancholy musings, Tim Challies’ post, “Proud of Her on Mother’s Day,” caught my eye. Tim’s recounting of how his wife has graciously and faithfully carried on since the sudden death of their oldest child several years ago served as a gentle exhortation from the Lord. These lines, in particular, resonated with me: 

(S)he doesn’t allow herself to sink into her grief and become incapacitated by it. She has just one life to live and only the present moment to live it. She has determined she will not allow the sorrow of the sorrows to overwhelm the joy of the joys . . . Why miss the joys for grief? Why allow one great sorrow to overwhelm so many blessings great and small?[1]

His statement reminded me, in turn, of a favorite Elisabeth Elliot quote, “Teach me never to let the joy of what has been pale the joy of what is.”

Refocusing

Grief is too complicated to reduce to a glass-half-full or half-empty mindset. Still, instead of allowing myself to focus on Mom’s absence, I endeavored to focus on the blessing of having a godly mother whose presence graced my life for 62 years, whose steadfast faith and ardent prayers shaped my existence, whose love I still feel every day, and whose mottos come to mind daily as well.

Likewise, when I gathered with my children and grandchildren, fortified with the timely reminders from Tim and Elisabeth, I did not let the sorrow of loss overshadow the joyful blessings of the present. I gratefully received my family’s charming expressions of affection – hugs, cards, both handmade and store-bought, and a delicious lunch prepared and served with love.

Family Blessings

As He often does in His over-and-above ways (Ephesians 3:20), God added a special surprise to my day. One of my nephews and his wife were in the area visiting her family on Saturday, and they stayed over to join us for church and lunch. Not only did they add to the joy and laughter of our celebration, but they also shared the happy news that they’re expecting a baby later this year.

The cycle of births and deaths will continue until Jesus returns. We will grieve the loss of loved ones and welcome new little ones, knowing that one day, we’ll be together in the presence of God, reunited forever. We’ll get to know generations of family members and marvel and rejoice at the way God wove us into His family and His great big story. Until then, may we treasure the memories of those who have gone before us while savoring the present with those who fill our lives now.

Dear Lord, thank You for the blessing of family, whether immediate or distant, by blood, by marriage, or by faith, present physically or in our memories. And let us never forget the privilege of being your beloved children, for that is who we are in Christ (John 1:12).

[1] “Proud of Her on Mother’s Day,” Tim Challies, Challies.com, May 9, 2025.

Our Part

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him.
Ephesians 1:3-4

Chosen

Like most children, my grandson Joshua had a wonderful imagination when he was little. I never knew from one visit to the next what scenario I might be stepping into, but he always had a story ready to enact, complete with props. Sometimes, he would hand me a lasso (one of the dog’s leashes), and we’d ride off to rustle up some cows. Then again, he would give me a plastic sword, and we would protect our ship (a large cardboard box) from pirates. One day, we even boarded a train (the sofa) and headed west to visit our South Dakota relatives. Regardless of the adventure, Joshua always made sure I had a role to play, announcing, “This is your part, Grammie!” as he handed me the appropriate accessory.

As touching as it was for Joshua to include me in his storylines, I am astounded when I think that God chose me before the foundation of the world to be part of His story (Ephesians 1:4). But that’s not all. He also:

  • Determined the specific time and place for me to live (Acts 17:26).
  • Prepared good works for me that I should walk in them (Ephesians 2:10).
  • Wrote all my days in His book before even one came to be (Psalm 139:16).
  • Is preparing a place for me so I can dwell with Him forever (John 14:1-3).

These things are true for every one of God’s children. Isn’t it amazing that the infinite God, who lacked nothing, chose to share the love and communion enjoyed by the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the Trinity and give us parts in His grand story?

Equipped

And, just as Joshua provided the trappings I needed to fulfill my various roles, God also equips us. He has given us:

  • His word, living and active, to teach, reprove, correct, and train us in righteousness (Hebrews 4:12; 2 Timothy 3:16).
  • Different spiritual gifts for building up the Church (1 Corinthians 12).
  • His Spirit, to instruct and empower us (John 14:26; Ephesians 1:19-20).
  • His grace which is always sufficient (2 Corinthians 9:8, 12:9).
  • The promise of His presence so we’ll never be alone or forsaken (Matthew 28:20; Deuteronomy 31:8).

Sustained

Joshua is a teenager now, several inches taller than me, and still growing. Gone are the days of defending cardboard ships and boarding sofa trains, but I’m blessed to still have a part in Joshua’s life. Last week, he created a spreadsheet listing the botanical field trips we hope to take this year. Our adventures have evolved from imaginary to real as we explore God’s beautiful creation, discussing plants and animals.

As long as I’m alive, I pray I will always have a part to play in his story. And in God’s.

Aging brings about many changes, including questioning our purpose as roles shift and abilities decline. But, praise God, our identity in Christ – beloved children of the King – and our purpose – to glorify God and enjoy Him forever – never change, regardless of our age, though how we live out our identity and purpose most likely will.

Just as Scripture describes how God has chosen and equipped us, it assures us that the righteous will flourish and bear fruit even in old age (Psalm 92:12-15) and that God will be faithful to complete the good work He’s begun in us (Philippians 1:6).

May the knowledge that our Heavenly Father has called and outfitted us to fulfill the roles He’s ordained and the assurance that He will sustain us all our days fill us with joy as we seek to live lives that honor and glorify Him, all the way to the day He welcomes us Home!

Overwhelmed, Christmas 2024

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.
Ephesians 1:3

Much like the post I shared two weeks ago featuring Mom’s mottos, I’m considering rerunning this one each year because inevitably, despite my best intentions, there comes a point in the weeks leading up to Christmas when I nearly have a meltdown wondering how I’ll ever get everything done. I lose sight of what we’re celebrating, and the wonder and joy of the season ebb away. When that happens, it’s time to refocus on eternal truths that will remain the same regardless of how many to-dos I cross off my list this holiday season. Knowing some of you might need to refocus, too, I’m reposting this lightly edited version of “Overwhelmed.”

Perspective

What came to your mind when you read the title of this post? Was your initial reaction positive or negative? Usually, when I say I’m overwhelmed, I’ve reached the point of waking up in the middle of the night, wondering how I’ll ever get everything done.

A quick check of Merriam-Webster online yields results that support the negative connotations of the verb:

1: to upset, overthrow

2a: to cover over completely: submerge b: to overcome by superior force or numbers c: to overpower in thought or feeling

However,  inspired by our pastor’s sermon series on Ephesians, I began pondering a more positive take on the word. In Ephesians 1:3-14, the Apostle Paul gushes over God’s blessings in Christ:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.

I’ve read that passage many times, but the idea of Paul gushing over God’s goodness was new to me. Yet that’s precisely what he’s doing! I imagine him exalting God, nearly breathless, as he recounts all our blessings in Jesus. Our pastor encouraged us to do likewise and allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by God’s goodness toward us.

The Holiday Hustle

As the holiday season ramps up, so does my sense of overwhelmedness. When I contemplate adding cherished holiday traditions to my already bulging to-do list, restless nights are sure to follow. But each year, the message from Ephesians and our pastor’s frequent invitation to embrace and embody our identity in Christ have encouraged me to approach the season differently. Rather than letting my to-do list have the final say, I pray I’ll be overwhelmed instead by all the blessings that are ours because God chose to send us the best gift ever – His only begotten Son.

A Positive Practice

Several days after I originally wrote this article, my 90-year-old father had a stroke. I’d been preparing to do battle with my usual holiday stresses when a barrage of new responsibilities hit. In those early days of trying to ensure I procured the proper care for Dad and managing day-to-day logistics once he returned home, I was tempted to ignore the holidays altogether. Over and over again, I thought, “I feel so overwhelmed.” And each time I did, the words I’d written came back to me, and I reminded myself of all the blessings that are mine in Christ.

After several weeks of this practice, the sequence became instinctive. I would sense the stress starting to build, sometimes multiple times a day. “How will I ever handle this?” ran through my mind, quickly followed by, “I feel so overwhelmed!” The once-negative word triggered the new, positive response, shifting my focus to the realities greater than my circumstances, realities that are valid year-round and forever: I have all I’ll ever need in Christ, plus the promise He’ll never leave or forsake me:

He has said, “I will never [under any circumstances] desert you [nor give you up nor leave you without support, nor will I in any degree leave you helpless], nor will I forsake or let you down or relax My hold on you [assuredly not]!” (Hebrews 13:5, Amplified)

An Invitation

Will you join me? Pick one or more of Paul’s affirmations to meditate on the next time you feel weighed down by cares or responsibilities: In Christ, we are blessed, chosen, blameless, adopted into God’s family, redeemed, forgiven, sealed with the Holy Spirit, destined to receive the inheritance held secure for us in heaven. Just reading this makes my heart sing!

Take another look at the last definition above, “to overpower in thought or feeling.” When the truth of Who God is and all He’s done for us in Christ overpowers our worries, fears, and anxieties, it is a most blessed conquest indeed.

Dear Lord, as we shift our gaze from the immediate to the eternal, I pray our thoughts and feelings will be overwhelmed in the most positive way by Your amazing grace and all You’ve blessed us with in Christ, to the praise of Your glory.

True Colors

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

So we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
2 Corinthians 4:16

Leafy Lesson

Granddaughter Lyla and I were out for a walk one recent sunny afternoon. I commented on the beautiful trees, resplendent in their fall colors. Lyla replied, “Grammie, did you know the fall colors are the true colors of the leaves?” You would think I would have remembered that factoid from my horticultural studies, but I didn’t.

Intrigued, I later spent some time googling the subject. As with most fascinating tidbits of information my bright, inquisitive grandchildren share with me, Lyla’s comment was correct:

“During the warmer growing seasons, leaves produce chlorophyll to help plants create energy from light. The green pigment becomes dominant and masks the other pigments . . . trees prepare for winter and the next growing season by blocking off flow to and from a leaf’s stem. This process stops green chlorophyll from being replenished and causes the leaf’s green color to fade. The fading green allows a leaf’s true colors to emerge, producing the dazzling array of orange, yellow, red, and purple pigments we refer to as fall foliage.”[1]

Wasting Away or Renewed?

This idea resonated with me. As someone who has traversed over six decades of life, I’ve watched my outer self change significantly over the years. But last week, I celebrated my 50th spiritual birthday.

Thinking back to the day I was baptized and made a public profession of faith on that November afternoon long ago,  I realize I’ve changed as much on the inside as I have on the outside. Maybe even more so. Because God has faithfully kept His promise to transform me more and more into the image of His Son (Romans 8:29).

First, He replaced my heart of stone with a heart of flesh that could respond in faith and gratitude to my heavenly Father(Ezekiel 36:26). Then, He applied the balm of forgiveness and restoration and provided His word as a sure guide for life as a pilgrim in this world.

I cringe to think of what my insides looked like before He began the process. Even my best intentions and kindest deeds were like filthy rags apart from Him (Isaiah 64:6).

I’ve passed through fiery trials and experienced moments of great joy in the past 50 years. The Lord ordained all those experiences to aid in the necessary transformation, and He’s never left me to walk alone.

Radiant

Have you ever noticed that even after the leaves have changed colors, they’re pretty but not truly radiant unless the sun is shining on them? Oh, but when the sun is out, the leaves are so vibrant the trees look like they’re ablaze. On days like that, I repeatedly exclaim, sometimes to myself and sometimes out loud, “The trees are so beautiful! Thank You, Lord!”

Likewise, our beauty is more radiant when we walk in the Light of the One who called us out of darkness (1 Peter 2:9). As we behold the glory of the Lord and the beauty of the Gospel, we are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another (2 Corinthians 3:18), making it possible to be lights in this world shining before others for the Lord’s glory (Matthew 5:14-16). How amazing!

Hanging On

While their deciduous relatives are busy putting on a colorful fall display, some oak trees hold onto their old, brown leaves all winter. It takes the new leaves’ emergence the following year to finally nudge them off, life replacing death. And so it will be with me. No matter how brightly my true colors shine in this life, vestiges of the old, sinful me will remain until I’m called Home.

Yet, even now, God considers me His child, though my full potential and future glory haven’t been revealed. And so it is with all of His children. We rest in the assurance that when Jesus appears, we will be like Him because we will see Him as He is (1 John 3:2).

Creased and Crinkled

There are mornings when I look in the mirror and wonder if the wrinkle gremlin visited overnight and created a few more folds on my face. Days when I look at photos of myself and realize my eyes have almost disappeared into the creases surrounding them when I smile. It can be disheartening at times.

And then I remember that charm is deceptive and beauty fleeting, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised (Proverbs 31:30), that the Lord does not see as man sees, but looks on the heart (1 Samuel 16:7b), that we’re to cultivate the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in God’s sight (1 Peter 3:3-4).

My heart overflows with gratitude. I marvel at the fact God chose me before the foundation of the world to be His child (Ephesians 1:4), called me to Himself 50 years ago, and has given me ample reasons and opportunities to testify to His faithfulness in my life.

I look forward to the day when the transformation is complete. Until then, I pray He will help the true Christ-like colors He’s painted inside me to grow increasingly radiant, even as my outer self is wasting away.

I will greatly rejoice in the Lord;
my soul shall exult in my God
for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation;
he has covered me with the robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress,
and a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
Isaiah 61:10

[1] Cool autumn weather reveals nature’s true hues, noaa.gov, October 1, 2014.

Have We Forgotten?

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Yet the number of the children of Israel shall be like the sand of the sea, which cannot be measured or numbered. And in the place where it was said to them, “You are not my people,” it shall be said to them, “Children of the living God.”
Hosea 1:10

A Challenging Message

This fall, we’re using Paula Miles’ “No Empty Word: Relentless Pursuit a Study on Hosea” for our Women’s Bible study. We’ve agreed that Hosea is a challenging book, not the first one we think of when in need of a comforting verse to put on a counted cross stitch. God didn’t hold back when proclaiming what would happen if His people refused to forsake their wicked ways and return to Him. Some of us have even found it difficult to read parts of Hosea aloud since it contains words we wouldn’t dare utter in conversation.

However, as the study has progressed, we’ve realized there is much comfort in Hosea because it recounts God’s unending love and compassion for His wayward people. Time and again, Hosea depicts the tension between God’s judgment and mercy, between His righteousness and covenant fidelity. Despite our faithlessness, He remains faithful (2 Timothy 2:13).

One recent Tuesday morning, we were working our way through chapter 8 of Hosea. In verse 13, we read that God told His people He would remember their iniquity, punish their sins, and send them back to Egypt, which was a foretelling of their captivity under Assyria. By this point in their history, the book of the Law, which the king was supposed to keep by his side and read every day (Deuteronomy 17:18-20), had been misplaced, and the priests were greedy and unfaithful. Thus, it was unlikely God’s people had consistently passed on the story of His miracle-filled deliverance from generation to generation as He’d commanded (Psalm 78:4-6). Given all that, I suggested that the threat of being returned to Egypt might not have meant much to them or carried much weight. Perhaps no one had told them how dreadful it was to be a slave or how marvelous God’s rescue was.

Although Hosea 8:2 says the people still “knew” the Lord and called on His name, simply knowing about God and crying out to Him in times of desperation isn’t the same as having a relationship with Him and a heart that wants to please Him.

Sobering Questions

As our discussion moved on, a whisper arose in my spirit: How about you? Do you remember how bad it was to be enslaved by sin? The thought convicted me. After walking with the Lord for nearly 50 years, have I forgotten how hopeless my situation was before He rescued me? Dead in my trespasses, unable to contribute anything to my salvation. Left to my own devices, I would have perished. Eternally.

But God, in His mercy, chose to redeem a people for Himself (Ephesians 2:4-5). May we never forget how remarkable and costly His rescue was! Redeemed by the Son’s precious blood, none of God’s children will ever be lost. Like a loving Father, He disciplines us (Hebrews 12:5-11), but He won’t ever forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6).

Throughout No Empty Word, the study questionshave challenged us to identify our idols, those things we allow to usurp God’s rightful place in our hearts and lives, things we look to for security instead of depending on the One who is our Provider, Rock, and Refuge, the One who is sovereign over every detail. Self-reliance, autonomy, self-glory, peace, wealth, fame – we’ve mentioned all of these in our discussions. Several times,  those discussions have reminded me of God’s warning in Deuteronomy 8:

Take care lest you forget the Lord your God by not keeping his commandments and his rules and his statutes, which I command you today, lest, when you have eaten and are full and have built good houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks multiply and your silver and gold is multiplied and all that you have is multiplied, then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, who led you through the great and terrifying wilderness, with its fiery serpents and scorpions and thirsty ground where there was no water, who brought you water out of the flinty rock, who fed you in the wilderness with manna that your fathers did not know, that he might humble you and test you, to do you good in the end. Beware lest you say in your heart, ‘My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.’ You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth, that he may confirm his covenant that he swore to your fathers, as it is this day (Deuteronomy 8:11-18).

It’s a warning that applies every bit as much to God’s children today.

O Lord, please help us never to neglect the reading and hearing of Your Word or tire of telling the coming generations about Your glorious deeds so that they, too, will know how awful it is to be a slave to sin and how awesome it is to be a child of God. And may we never forget that everything we have and are, from our salvation to our daily bread, is a gift from You.

Epilog

You may be wondering about the photo I selected to accompany this post. Years ago, I saw a short video of a guy sitting behind a table in a cemetery. He’d posted a sign with the message along the lines of, “Anyone interested in eternal life step right up!” No surprise, but not a single person exited one of the graves and took him up on his offer. I often think of that clip when I contemplate what it means to be dead in our trespasses, unable to contribute anything toward our salvation!

A Father’s Hugs

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.
1 John 3:1

When my daughter and I started planning our long-awaited trip to England and France earlier this year, I gave her a short wish list of places I would like to visit and left the planning up to her. I thought it would be fun, but in hindsight, I realize it was a tremendous amount of work. Not only did she research the places on my list, but she also scheduled many other adventures, lodging options, and special meals.

As dedicated fans of Downton Abbey, Highclere Castle was near the top of the must-see list for both of us; however, Jessie didn’t secure reservations for us before we left. Instead, we hoped to get tickets when we showed up.

Our hopes were dashed when Jessie checked the castle’s website the night before we planned to visit. Bold letters proclaimed, “ALL TOURS SOLD OUT.”

Jessie lamented, “I’m sorry I didn’t reserve the tickets earlier, Mom!”

“It’s ok, Jess, you worked so hard arranging so many other details for our trip.”

I was disappointed about not getting to visit the castle, but I was more concerned that Jessie would focus on this perceived misstep and forget about all the other things she set up for us. We’re cut from the same cloth when it comes to focusing on the one thing we missed instead of giving ourselves credit for the many things we’ve accomplished.

I prayed as I drifted off to sleep, “Lord, nothing is impossible for You, and You know how much we would like to visit Highclere tomorrow, but if it’s not to be, then please help us to accept that and enjoy all the other things You’ve got in store for us on this trip. And please help Jessie not to be upset with herself.”

It was pouring rain when we got up the following morning.

Jessie asked, “What do you want to do, Mom? Should we just forget about it and move on?”

“Nope! When we get home, we’ll be over 4000 miles from here. Right now, we’re five miles from the castle. Let’s drive over and see how far we get. Eventually, we’ll meet up with someone at a checkpoint, and we can explain our situation. All they can say is no, but at least we will have tried, and maybe we’ll get to see it from the outside.”

We ate breakfast, donned our rain jackets, and set off. We traversed the winding drive, drawing ever closer to our destination. Sure enough, someone was minding the entrance to the parking area. But it wasn’t an armed guard. It was a delightful lady in a yellow slicker and rain boots. She listened as Jessie described our plight, then cheerfully replied, “The morning group has already entered the house, but if you come back at 2:30, you’ll be able to get in.”

Jessie and I could barely believe our ears.

“Should we be here earlier to make sure?”

“No need. Be here by 2:30, and you will get in.”

Happily astounded by this turn of events, we had lunch in a nearby village and made sure to return by the appointed time. The same cheerful lady was there to welcome us back when we approached at 2:15.

She checked her watch, “You’re early!”

Jessie and I replied in unison, “We didn’t want to miss our chance!”

“You won’t. Go ahead and park, and then go over to the ticket booth. Once you get your tickets, you can queue up in front of the house.”

We purchased our tickets and strode toward the mansion. A jumble of emotions welled up as we approached the stately manor we’d seen countless times across six seasons of Downton Abbey. It was all I could do to keep from sobbing. Not only would we get to tour the grand house, but even more importantly, I knew we’d received a bear hug from our heavenly Father.

In the ranking of responsibilities, enabling a visit to Highclere Castle barely registers when compared to keeping the universe going. But the One who hung the stars and spoke everything into existence also knows every detail of His children’s lives, and He graciously gives us good gifts that leave no doubt that He knows and loves us.

The heavenly hug I received on that damp, chilly day was specially tailored and multi-layered, as they often are:

  • I’ve been walking with the Lord for nearly 50 years, but I sometimes act like I’ve forgotten Truth that He’s repeatedly affirmed in my life. I genuinely believe I’m never out of His sight (Psalm 139). However, when I travel, I sometimes feel vulnerable, and the further I venture from my home base, the more uneasy I become. An ocean stood between home and me, providing ample fodder for concern, but the Highclere experience was a beautiful reminder that God hadn’t lost sight of us just because we were overseas. That reminder stayed with me for the rest of our twelve-day trip, a touchstone when some circumstance or another tempted me to worry.
  • If we’d reserved tickets for the morning entry time, we would have been soaked waiting to enter the castle. As it was, the rain had stopped by the time we queued up in the afternoon. No soggy jeans to deal with!
  • Perhaps most importantly, Jessie didn’t have to feel bad about not getting the tickets. I didn’t want a perceived failure to overshadow all the hard work my caring, capable, conscientious daughter put into planning our trip. Neither did her Father.

Today is Father’s Day. It may be a joyous occasion for many of you as you celebrate with your dad. For others, it may be a sad day. It is for me because it’s my first Father’s Day without my dad. Though our relationship was rocky at times, I knew Dad always had my back, and there were plenty of instances when his hugs calmed my fears. From childhood scrapes and booboos to life-changing losses in adulthood, he was there. I’m thankful for the love that accompanied those consoling embraces.

I pray those of you who, like me, no longer have your earthly fathers will take comfort in knowing you’re never out of sight or reach of your Heavenly Father. Look for His affectionate hugs – those little reminders that He sees, He knows, and He loves you more than you can imagine (Isaiah 49:15-16). 

Lyla’s Sparkles

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

You are the light of the world. A city 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

I opened the car door to put something in the backseat the day after I had taken my granddaughters to dance. I saw three tiny shimmers on the seat and smiled. They were sequins from Lyla‘s recital costume, and they weren’t the first sparkles to detach themselves and remain at my house. I’ve found them in my kitchen, upstairs in my TV room, and one even made it onto my bathroom counter. I think it may have stuck to me when I hugged Lyla goodbye one evening and hitched a ride upstairs!

Finding these sparkles always makes me smile because they remind me of my beloved granddaughter. Her kind heart and sweet smile brighten many of my days.

I had the opportunity to sit in on two of the end-of-year rehearsals as Lyla and her dancemates prepared for their recital. The instructor reminded all the girls to smile during their performance. Of course, my eyes were fixed on Lyla while they went through their routine. She smiled throughout, just as the teacher had requested, but I knew her smile wasn’t forced. It was coming from the joy she carries inside.

Even at her young age, Lyla is a life-giver. She cares about others and is a blessing to those around her in both big and small ways.

I was privileged to serve as Shepherd for Lyla’s American Heritage Girls troop last year. Each week, I tried to prepare a short, meaningful devotional that would hold the girls’ interest and give them something to think about. Attention varied across my audience, but inevitably, when my around-the-room gaze found Lyla, she was looking at me and listening attentively, offering silent affirmation of my efforts.

I used to tell my now-adult daughters to treat others in such a way they’d be glad to see them, not whisper, “Oh no! Here come those Kuipers girls again!” That was long before I heard the concept of being a life-giver or life-taker, but I knew it was in keeping with Jesus’ instructions to be light in this dark world.

I recently visited Paris, nicknamed the City of Light. Though some sources confirm my guess that it earned the title because it was a center for education and ideas during the Age of Enlightenment, others say it came about because King Louis XIV ordered almost 3,000 street lanterns be erected to light Paris brightly at night to prevent criminals from hiding in the shadows and thus stem the crime wave rampant in the city.

Conquering the darkness. Isn’t that what Jesus did? He is the Light of the world (John 8:12). John tells us that the darkness will not overcome the Light, ever (John 1:5.) In fact, when Jesus returns, the night will be no more, and we’ll no longer need the light from lamp or sun. He will be our Light forever (Revelation 22:5).

While we wait for that glorious day, may we walk as children of light, sprinkling life-giving sparkles everywhere like Lyla’s sequins and smiles, pointing others to the hope we have in Jesus. For at one time we were darkness, but now we are light in the Lord (Ephesians 5:8).

Running on Empty

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.
1 Peter 5:8

Distracted

We had barely settled into our rental house for a week on beautiful Hilton Head Island last September when we started to wonder if Hurricane Ian would cause us to cut our much-needed vacation short. I’d checked the weather forecast before I left home but didn’t connect the predicted rainfall at the end of the week to the storm churning in the Gulf of Mexico.

Although Ian’s track continued to evolve, the possible scenarios included another landfall along the South Carolina coast, still packing hurricane-force winds and copious rainfall, after it moved across Florida. We agreed the risk wasn’t worth staying and decided to return home on Thursday, two days early.

I felt we’d made the right decision, but once we did, I became restless and unsettled, unable to concentrate on any one thing for long and disappointed that our family time would end so soon. About mid-day on Wednesday, I checked the gas in my car and was relieved to see I had enough to drive at least two hundred miles before refueling.

Any relief I felt was eclipsed a few hours later when I decided to get a head start on packing the car. The back hatch wouldn’t open. When the key fob didn’t work, I tried the release on the dash – nothing, not even a beep. Then, with a sinking feeling, I realized I’d left the accessories on when I checked the gas.

The battery was dead.

A Call for Help

My AAA membership has come in handy over the years – flat tires, keys locked in the car, dead batteries. I submitted a service request and waited, then waited some more. It was night, the storm was approaching, and we were staying in a gated community at the southern tip of the island. No one was responding to my SOS.

As the minutes and then hours ticked by, I berated myself for being so incompetent. The demeaning accusations picked up steam. “You’re old and stupid! You can’t even hold two thoughts together. You could barely keep up on the bike ride. No one wants to be around you. It’s only going to get worse!” And for good measure, “You know that book you’re trying to write? You’re not going to finish it. No one wants to read it anyway!”[1]

On and on, the taunting thoughts continued. I was powerless against the pummeling.

A New Day

Midnight approached. I canceled the service request and crawled into bed, where I tossed and turned, wondering if I’d get off the island the next day.

I rose early, weary and worried, but someone responded within minutes when I placed the service request again. A cheerful AAA rep showed up about an hour later. When I told him I keep my AAA membership to protect myself from my absent-mindedness, he replied that he sometimes locks his keys in the car. His reassurances continued, “Enough people do things like that, leaving their lights on and running out of gas, that I can make a living helping them, so don’t feel bad!” His kind assurances put a bandaid on my wounded soul.

He tested the battery and found it registered a pitiful 5% power, enough to jump, but he advised me to run the car for at least half an hour before turning it off. I let Bonnie[2] run for an hour for good measure, even though it meant using up half of the gas I’d been so excited about the day before.

Bonnie started right up when we were ready to leave later that morning, but none of her accessories worked. Her heart was pumping, but her brain had shut down. It took almost 75 miles for the audio and navigation systems to recover, but one by one, the components returned.

A Red Flag

The depth of my despair at my humanity was a huge warning sign. I used to lock my keys in my old CR-V once or twice a year, yet I’d laugh off my inattentiveness when I called AAA to report my latest foible, “Yep, it’s me again. Same address as before, too!”[3]  

My inability to combat what I refer to as “old stuff” flashed a warning. Not only did I not have the strength to fight the lies with truth, but I also started to withdraw from my bewildered family – old stuff plus an old defense mechanism. 

Thankfully, I didn’t withdraw from God. As I cried out to Him, I acknowledged the tough losses and monumental changes of the past two years had depleted me. I didn’t want to add to others’ burdens by complaining or asking for help. Through it all, I kept going, determined to be strong for everyone who was depending on me.

I realized the thing that finally pushed me over the edge was going through Mom and Dad’s things and selling their house. I hadn’t experienced recurring, guilt-infused dreams like those I had years ago when I gave away my late husband’s clothes and apologized profusely to him when he reappeared in my sleep. Even so, there are times I’ll think about a specific item or envision everything set up for the estate sale, and I feel sad, guilty, and conflicted. Did I do the right thing and make the right decisions? Should I have kept XYZ instead of giving it away?

Weak and Vulnerable

In my early 30s, I began counseling to work on deep-seated misbeliefs I held regarding myself. It was hard, often painful work, but I persevered. My counselor lauded my efforts and progress, yet she cautioned me to remain vigilant lest I slip back into old thinking when I’m tired or stressed.

Lions are patient and skilled hunters, habitually pursuing weak or solitary prey. It’s fitting that Satan, the enemy of our souls, is portrayed as a roaring lion prowling about, seeking someone to devour. He’s also the father of lies, constantly twisting the truth to ensnare and debilitate us (John 8:44).

Some of you may think my description of the self-talk I subjected myself to is hyperbole, “Surely you didn’t believe those things, did you?” Others will know precisely what I mean, having experienced similar battles in trying to overcome lies embodied in messages planted in your soul long ago.

Take heart! We don’t fight alone.

Refilling the Bucket

Despite the pain and discomfort of those few days, I’m thankful the Lord used something as mundane as a dead battery to show me how drained and depleted I’d become. Like Bonnie, my heart was pumping, but I didn’t have enough energy to do much more than trudge through each day.

Fortunately, I didn’t stay muddled in despair for long. I reached out to my longtime counselor and scheduled an appointment. Likewise, I told several trusted friends how I felt and asked them to pray for me. Unlike the initial call to AAA, the responses were immediate and affirming.

The Spirit within us reminds us that we’re beloved children, members of God’s family (Romans 8:16). What a blessing that we can turn to our brothers and sisters for help, to walk alongside us, and speak truth to us until we’re strong enough to tell ourselves again, to hear and believe the testimony of the indwelling Spirit.

Epilog

I drafted this shortly after the events occurred last year but felt too vulnerable to publish it. When I reread it after returning from this year’s beach vacation, I knew I needed to polish and post it in case it might resonate with one of you. If you find yourself weak and weary like I was, dear reader, don’t fear asking for help. Jesus came that we might have abundant life and the Truth will set us free. I pray you will find rest and restoration in Him.

[1] I dedicated a couple of hours each day we were away to working on the manuscript, but made negligible progress.

[2] We’re among those who name vehicles since we tend to keep them a long time and they become part of many family commutes and adventures.

[3] I usually locked the keys in my car at my daughter Mary’s house, leaving them on the seat as I juggled my lunch and supplies on days I stayed with my grandchildren.

Orphaned Widow

/ Patsy Kuipers / 12 Comments

Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.
Psalm 68:5

A New Reality

They’re gone.

Sometimes it’s my first waking thought. The reality settles over my sorrowing soul like a heavy mantle. I’m an orphan now. Though some might reserve that designation for minor children, and I left my childhood years behind many decades ago, in the strictest sense of the word, I assumed that title when Dad joined Mom in the presence of Jesus in the wee hours of July 12th.

I’m finding it difficult to grasp my new status or describe what it feels like to realize the two people who knew me from the first day of my life and through all the ups and downs that followed are no longer within reach of a phone call or hug.

Admittedly, our roles began to shift three years ago when Mom’s health declined significantly. There were times when I would accompany her to a doctor’s appointment, and she’d say, “Patsy’s the mother now. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Then, six months after Mom died, Dad had a stroke. Fortunately, the incident didn’t leave him with any physical weakness, but it took a toll on his brilliant mind. Details confounded him, and he couldn’t keep track of time. Thus, I took over his finances and oversaw his care at the assisted living facility we picked out together, his home for the last eighteen months of his life.

Cheerleader and Protector

Everyone needs someone in their corner, and Mom was in mine from my earliest days. She was my lifelong cheerleader, always encouraging and believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. Though my relationship with Dad was more turbulent, I never doubted he would protect and provide for me and that I could turn to him for wise counsel.

Despite the role reversal that accompanied her final months, as long as Mom was alive, I knew I had someone who would cheer me on and believe in me unreservedly. Likewise, the sense that Dad had my back remained even though, more and more, it was me who had his.

When I became a widow at age 38, Mom and Dad graciously moved to Georgia to help me raise Mary and Jessie, who were only 10 and 7 years old when their dad died. No special-occasion-only visits for us. Nope, Mom and Dad completed our nuclear family. Mom usually picked Mary and Jessie up from school, and we ate dinner with them most nights.

The fact that Mom and Dad played such a prominent role not only in my life but also in my girls’ magnifies the loss. They were tightly woven into the fabric of our lives, and their passing produced holes in our family tapestry.

Widowed First

As I’ve been contemplating my parentless state, verses that declare God to be a Father to the fatherless have come to mind. Have you ever noticed how those passages usually include His concern for widows too? I became a widow 26 years before becoming an orphan, and across those years, I’ve become well acquainted with God’s steadfast love and faithfulness. He has been my Defender, and I know I can count on Him to be my Father.

Wisdom tops the list of all the things I’ve prayed for since my husband died. I’ve routinely sought the Lord’s guidance, and He has repeatedly shown me the way. Now is no different as I seek God’s will to navigate this season of life as the eldest generation, responsible for managing the legacy Mom and Dad left to us – how best to glorify God and honor their memory in the process.

I’ve been journaling more than usual the past few weeks, trying to work through the emotions accompanying my parents’ loss and the feelings of “what now.” One day, I listed four specific areas where I needed wisdom and asked God to show me how to proceed. When I revisited the list a couple of days ago, I realized God had already given me clear direction on three of the four decisions. The fourth matter is ongoing, and I trust God will provide insight when I need it (James 1:5-6).

Motherly Love, Fatherly Protection

In addition to prayer, I’ve sought solace in familiar Bible verses. As is often the case, I’ve seen a new angle as the Spirit has applied the living, active word to my present situation (Hebrews 4:12). Take a look at these two passages:

The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing (Zephaniah 3:17).

Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him; behold, his reward is with him, and his recompense before him. He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young (Isaiah 40:10-11).

In the past, I’ve focused on the tenderness in these passages, the motherly qualities, if you will, but this week, God’s mighty power stood out to me. The love of my heavenly Father, who’ll never leave me, encompasses the aspects I miss most in my dear parents – Mom’s enduring encouragement and Dad’s persistent protection. What a blessing!

Sojourners

Remember the passages I referred to earlier that mention orphans and widows? God included a third category among the groups His people were supposed to care for in their midst: aliens and sojourners. Regardless of our marital or parental status, all of us are sojourners in this world. As God’s children, we are on our way to a better country, our true Home (Hebrews 11:16).

Mom and Dad knew and loved me from my first day in this world, but God chose me before the foundation of the world to be His (Ephesians 1:4-5). He knit me together in Mom’s womb, predestined me to be conformed to the image of His Son, determined when and where I would live, and wrote my days in His book before even one came to be. His love for me will never end.

One day, I’ll join Mom and Dad in the presence of Jesus, where there will be no more orphans, widows, or sojourners because we’ll all be safely Home.

Dear Lord, thank You that Mom and Dad were in my life for over six decades and for the blessing they were to me, my daughters, and my grandchildren. Even so, I know their love for us pales in comparison to Your perfect, infinite love. I rest and rejoice in the assurance that You will guide and protect us until we arrive Home to spend eternity in Your glorious presence.

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