Family

Mom’s Mottos

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Her children rise up and call her blessed.
Proverbs 31:28a

My dear little mom was born on November 24, 1931. Every few years, the anniversary of her birth falls on Thanksgiving. I think it’s so appropriate when it does, since having a godly mother is one of the blessings I’m most thankful for. I originally included what I refer to as Mom’s mottos in a tribute I wrote for her birthday in 2018. There isn’t a day that goes by that one or more of them doesn’t come to my mind, and since most of them have a basis in Scripture, I’ve decided to rerun them each year in her honor. Mom was just that special.

The following nuggets of wisdom Mom shared with me throughout my life have become ingrained in my psyche. Many of them came from her mother. I’ve passed them on to my daughters and now share them with my grandchildren. I hope you will find one or more that resonate with you, too!

People will let you down, but God never will. Mom and I endured numerous trials together in the 62 years between my birth and her passing. Lies, disappointments, job loss, broken relationships, health crises, and deaths. Through it all, Mom taught me to depend on the One who says He’ll never leave or forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6), faithfully keeps His promises (Hebrews 10:23), and speaks only truth (Hebrews 6:18). We will have troubles in this world, but Jesus has overcome the world. We can find peace in Him (John 16:33).

The things we worry about the most turn out the best. At first glance, this one seems to contradict Scripture: the more you worry about something, the better it will turn out. But Mom used this adage to remind me that worrying is for naught, a waste of time, because God cares for us and is sovereign over every detail, which is very much in keeping with Scripture (Matthew 6:34; Philippians 4:6-7; 1 Peter 5:7).

When faced with a list of tasks, do whatever’s bothering you the most first and get it behind you. When I felt overwhelmed, which was more often than I like to admit, Mom encouraged me with this time-tested advice one of her grade-school teachers bestowed upon her. Though it may not have been inspired by Scripture originally, there’s undoubtedly a Biblical tie-in. Usually, when my to-do list becomes overloaded, it’s filled with chores associated with temporal concerns. Cooking, cleaning, weeding, mulching, paying bills, and the like are necessary. But Jesus makes it clear we’re to seek eternal things first, trusting Him to provide all we need (Matthew 6:25-33) and spending time at His feet to learn of Him (Luke 10:38-42).

We can’t change anyone else, much as we’d like to sometimes. We can only give an account of ourselves. My reply when Mom would tell me this? “You’re right. I have a hard enough time keeping myself in line!” Once again, there’s Biblical truth in Mom’s statement. As part of His magnificent Sermon on the Mount, Jesus warned against judging others, especially since we have sin to deal with in our own lives (Matthew 7:1-5). Praise God for giving us His Spirit, which is at work in us to bring about the transformation we’re incapable of accomplishing on our own (2 Corinthians 3:17-18). Furthermore, we’re called to pray for others because only He can soften hardened hearts (Ezekiel 36:25-27).

We can’t give up. We’ve got to hold on to our faith and keep going. Throughout her life, Mom faced challenges that may have led some to quit or become bitter, from the death of my baby sister decades ago to emergency open-heart surgery later in life.

In her final years, Mom endured daily pain due to the ravages of arthritis in her fingers and cartilage deterioration in her right knee. Yet she rarely mentioned her constant aches. Instead, she clung to God’s mercies, which are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-24), and encouraged those in her inner circle to do the same. Not surprisingly, her life verse was Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” It appears on her grave marker.

There’s an end to everything and everybody sometime sooner or later. Mom usually used this phrase when a situation called for consolation, such as when a cherished object wore out, broke, or was lost. But her most poignant use of the saying came several days after she broke her hip. She recited it to me during one of her lucid moments, followed by, “I guess this is the end of me.” As much as it hurt to hear her acknowledge what was becoming increasingly likely, I could comfort her with the assurance of complete healing that awaited. As we live under the curse where death and brokenness are certainties, we have the promise of Christ’s return when all will be made new, and death will be no more (Revelation 21:1-4).

There’s nothing so bad that it couldn’t be worse. Similar to the motto above, Mom used this one to offer comfort. It also reminds me to be thankful even in trying circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:18). For believers, even death isn’t the worst possible scenario. Instead, it ushers us into the presence of Jesus (2 Corinthians 5:6-8).

Think positive! In some ways, Mom and Dad were a classic case of opposites attracting. Dad was more solemn and tended to focus on potential negatives in a given situation. Being a blend of the two, there were times when I, too, would see a half-empty glass. When Dad or I started imagining a worst-case scenario, Mom cheerfully yet firmly encouraged us to “think positive!”  Trusting God and knowing that He works all things together for good for those who love Him (Romans 8:28) allowed Mom to maintain a positive attitude even in daunting circumstances. I imagine her greeting Dad when he joined her in Glory with a joyful, “See, John, I told you to ‘think positive.’ It’s all ok!”

That’s a Gulf song. This statement isn’t advice, but I include it because it alludes to my heritage of faith. Mom grew up in the tiny town of Gulf, NC, where she attended a small Presbyterian church established in the 1800s. When the strains of a familiar hymn from her childhood would begin to play at our current church, Mom’s face would brighten, and one of us would usually lean toward the other and whisper, “That’s a Gulf song.” Occasionally, I’ll whisper the same to my granddaughter Lyla, who has visited the small church, understands the connection, and smiles knowingly at my statement. I don’t know how many generations my heritage of faith encompasses, but I know there are at least two behind me and two in front. I pray that the legacy of faith will be passed continually from generation to generation until Christ returns (Deuteronomy 6:4-9).

Mom’s Enduring Love

Oh, how I miss Mom! Though petite, she had a big, beautiful smile and an even bigger heart. She was my main cheerleader and most dependable defender. We all need someone who’s unconditionally, unreservedly in our corner. I’m so thankful Mom was in mine. She was my rock because she consistently pointed me to the Rock and reminded me that His everlasting arms are securely holding all who belong to Him in an eternal embrace (Deuteronomy 33:26-27a). And since Mom’s love was grounded in God’s great love, it will be with me until we meet again.

Dear LORD, thank You for the priceless blessing of a godly mother and the assurance that I will see her again! Please help me not only to recite her mottos, but also to recount Your goodness and faithfulness to coming generations as she did.

Sixty Years

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

Love never ends.
So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:8, 13

October 25th marked sixty years since my beloved maternal grandfather, PaPa, went to be with the Lord. Even though I was only six at the time, I clearly remember the moment Mom received the news. We were watching an after-school TV show while she ironed. The phone rang, Mom answered, listened briefly, and then wailed, “No, not Daddy!”

Across the intervening decades, I’ve often marveled at the fact that I still feel PaPa’s love so deeply. Remembering his kind, gentle demeanor and the acceptance and security I  felt in his presence moves me to tears. Such emotion, despite the fact I didn’t get to spend lots of time with him in the not-quite seven years we were on this earth together.

Since becoming a grandmother fourteen years ago, a desire to love my grandchildren equally well has joined my wonder at the loving bond between PaPa and me, which has transcended the grave.

Cherished Memories

Although I don’t have many distinct memories of time spent with PaPa, I cherish the ones I do have. I recall walking hand in hand with him to the small general store, stopping by the post office to check Box 73 for mail, and waiting for the train to come by so we could wave to the conductor and count the cars.

But my favorite activity was eating apples with him. PaPa would sit me on his lap, producing an apple in one hand and his pocketknife in the other. He’d cut a slice for me, then a slice for himself. The process would continue back and forth until we finished the tasty fruit. For as long as I can remember, I’ve eaten an apple almost every day. And when I do, I always think of my grandfather.

Shared Memories

My mom’s recollections and those of several of my cousins, who were blessed to live in the same community as my grandfather, supplement and reinforce mine.

Mom was the baby of her family, the youngest of eight siblings, and her father’s darling. He called her “Babe,” warmed her clothes by the fire before she went to school on cold mornings, and waited for the bus to drop her off in the afternoons.

Mom recounted how her mother, sterner in her demeanor, would occasionally delegate the task of disciplining a wayward child to my grandfather. He would take the offending party outside, beyond her view, and tell the child to cry out while he used the switch on some inanimate object instead of their legs.

One cousin shared how PaPa would bring her paper dolls from the general store, while another recalled how he reveled in helping PaPa in his garden. Still another has memories similar to mine of sharing apples, slice by slice, sitting in his lap.

The common denominator in all our reminiscences? The unconditional love we felt in PaPa’s presence.

Building Memories

As I reflect on our shared memories, it’s clear that none of them involve grand events, expensive vacations, or exotic destinations. Sharing life and simple rituals – like eating apples, counting train cars, and working together in the garden – feeling safe and accepted, have connected generations of our family.

I’m blessed and thankful that my grandchildren live close by and that I’ve seen them several days most weeks since they were born. Even though we have made memories during beach trips and other wonderful vacations, we treasure our own little rituals, including sharing apples and gardening. I pray that they, too, feel safe and accepted in my presence and will be able to feel my love long after I’m gone.

Shared Faith

The most significant gift PaPa shared was his faith. I’ve wondered whether he was the first in his family to trust in Jesus, or whether he was following in the footsteps of his forefathers. Regardless, PaPa was a faithful member of the small rural church within sight of his house, where he served as a deacon. Memories of attending church with him, going to Sunday school in the same room Mom did when she was a child, and visiting with relatives in the churchyard after the service are lovingly tucked in my mind beside those I shared earlier.

Carrying on our family’s legacy of faith is my highest calling as a grandmother. I endeavor to weave God into our conversations and experiences (Deuteronomy 6:6-7), pointing my grandchildren to the One Who created this great big, beautiful world and loved them enough to send His Son to die for them (John 3:16). It is a blessing and a privilege to come alongside their parents as they raise them in the discipline and instruction of the Lord (Ephesians 6:4). And what a joy to worship side-by-side on Sunday mornings, our voices united in prayer and song!

Promised Reunion

I don’t get to visit the humble graveyard where my grandparents and many other maternal relatives are laid to rest nearly as often as I’d like. My husband, Ray, is resting there, too, near my sister, Mary Jeannette, who died in infancy. Mom took her place between them three years ago, leaving a space for me. Dad joined them most recently.

When I do visit the cemetery, I gaze at the tombstones, each representing someone I love and long to see again, pondering how glorious it will be when we all rise to new life, a life that will never end (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18). For the love we share now is but a shadow of the Love that awaits when the Everlasting Arms reach out to embrace us and welcome us Home (1 Corinthians 13:4-13).

Until then, I’ll remain thankful for familiar rituals, like eating apples with my grandchildren, and rock-solid faith, lovingly shared, that can reach across the decades, blessing one generation after another.

O Lord, how great are the gifts of familial love and a heritage of faith! And what a privilege it is to tell the younger generations about Your ceaseless love and faithfulness (Psalm 78:1-4). Please help us to be steadfast in doing so, so that they, too, may know the joy and peace of belonging to Your family.

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.

The Inheritance

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.
1 Peter 1:3-5

Bittersweet Blessing

An inheritance is a bittersweet blessing. By definition, you only receive it when someone who loved you is no longer alive (Hebrews 9:16-17). Such was the case when my dad died in the summer of 2023. Engulfed by grief from losing him and grappling with my new orphan status since Mom preceded him in 2021, I was overwhelmed as I contemplated my position as their only child and sole heir. Gratitude and guilt mingled with an intense sense of responsibility.

My parents married young and had little material wealth to their names. Dad served in the Air Force and went to college on the GI Bill after he completed his four years of active duty. Mom worked various jobs to help pay the bills. From these humble beginnings, they labored together over nearly 70 years of marriage to build a comfortable life. They provided for me while I was under their roof and shared graciously with me and my family as the years progressed. Dad invested wisely, always with the goal of having something to leave for future generations.

Unmerited Benefits

I didn’t do anything to deserve the inheritance. If anything, I drained my parents’ finances instead of contributing to their wealth. As grateful as I was to receive it, I also worried I would make poor decisions and somehow waste or misuse what they’d left to me. One day, when I was engaging in just such hand-wringing, the friend listening to my angst said, “Your dad didn’t have to leave his inheritance to you. He could have given it to his alma mater or another charity, but he entrusted it to you. He knew you would handle it well.”

In the nearly two years that have passed since Dad joined Mom in the presence of Jesus, the powerful, mind-numbing grief has subsided to a dull, ever-present ache. Able to think more clearly than in the early days of loss, I’ve taken heart in what my friend said and have endeavored to make decisions that honor my parents’ memory and the values they instilled in me, including generosity, appreciation for education, and planning for the welfare of future generations.

Spiritual Inheritance

Navigating the realities of my material inheritance has provided ample opportunities for me to contemplate the importance of how I steward my spiritual inheritance.

Unlike Mom and Dad, Jesus was wealthy beyond measure, but He became poor for my sake so that by His poverty, I might become rich (2 Corinthians 2:8-9). He didn’t consider equality with God something to grasp. Instead, He left His throne and humbled Himself to the point of death on a cross (Philippians 2:6-8). His death secured an eternal, imperishable inheritance I did nothing to deserve (1 Peter 1:3-5).

Several years ago, our women’s Bible study worked through Entrusted to Be Invested by Karen Hodge. As children of the King, we’ve been entrusted with the greatest treasure of all, the Gospel. Unlike our earthly inheritance, which may become vulnerable to loss regardless of our best efforts, our inheritance in Christ is eternally secure, kept safe for us by the power of His blood.

Just as I strive to steward the earthly treasures my parents entrusted to me, I desire to steward the treasure of Gospel hope in a way that brings honor to my heavenly Father as I live out the values He’s imparted to me through the power of the indwelling Spirit.

Dear readers, 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 pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened, so that you will know what is the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe (Ephesians 1:11-14; 18-19).

May we endeavor to pass this priceless inheritance from one generation to the next until He returns.

The Best Gift

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.
Deuteronomy 6:6-7

Treasured Traditions

My family treasures our traditions and can confirm that they create lasting memories and form the basis for generational connections. We sometimes make good-natured fun of ourselves by saying something becomes a tradition once we’ve done it two years in a row. Take, for example, our now annual visit to see the magnificent light display at the Atlanta Botanical Garden. It took seven years after the initial opening before my younger daughter and I fit the first visit into our busy holiday schedule, but by our second visit, we were hooked, and we’ve been back every year since. This year, our eighth, my grandchildren joined the fun.

Still, despite our love of traditions, we’ve had to accept that there are times when circumstances intervene and precious customs must be modified or set aside entirely.

My husband Ray’s sudden death when our daughters were still in elementary school ushered in significant changes to our Christmas celebrations. Years later, our eldest daughter married her high school sweetheart, bringing about another shift in the flow of holiday events, as did the births of her children. Not only were there in-laws to visit, but she and her husband sought to develop their own blend of old and new traditions as Ray and I had done decades earlier.

One thing that hasn’t changed over the years is our oft-uttered proclamation, “Being together is the best gift.” Reiterated on various gift-giving special occasions, the truth of that statement has been confirmed as family members have gone Home, leaving their seats around the holiday table empty, and our hearts longing to be with them again.

Treasured Connections

Perhaps that’s why several of my most cherished Christmas traditions are connected to beloved family members:

One of the first decorations I pull out each year is a small plastic, light-up Frosty my maternal grandfather, PaPa, gave me for my first birthday. PaPa was a kind, godly man, a deacon in the small country church within sight of his house. Even though he passed away a couple of months before my 7th birthday 59 years ago, I can still feel his love and cherish the memories of the brief time we had together. That enduring connection gives me hope that my grandchildren will feel my love for them long after I’m gone, too.

Unlike the few minutes it takes me to free Frosty from his box and plug him in, setting up my Dickens Village requires many hours across several days. Ray bought the first pieces for me in 1989 and continued to add pieces each year until he died. I kept adding to the collection after he passed and it now resides in three rooms of my house from late November through mid-January. Each year, when I set up the village, I hope Ray somehow knows how much it’s grown and how thankful I am that he started it for me. My grandchildren look forward to the annual display and finding pieces that represent them throughout the sprawling town, including a young boy riding a pony, a little girl putting her letter to Santa in a mailbox, and children gathering around the toy vendor’s cart.

Then there’s baking. For years Mom and I made “goodie boxes” full of an array of homemade cookies and candies. The list of recipients evolved depending on our life stages and included teachers, friends, family members, neighbors, and work colleagues. Mom and I set a record one Christmas by packing and delivering 100 boxes of sweet treats! When my daughters graduated, and Mom and I retired from our jobs, the list of potential benefactors dwindled, as did the number of goodies we prepared, but Mom still made her fudge and rum balls each year. I treasure the memories from our last baking day together, when my daughters and grandchildren joined Mom and me, stirring batter, shaping run balls, baking cookies, and sharing recollections of past goodie box preparations. Those memories will remain for three generations and fuel fond reminiscences as we continue the baking day tradition.

Forever Connections

These precious traditions have meaning because I associate them with people I love. Sharing those connections with my grandchildren gives them a fuller picture of my relationships with those people and creates a connection for them as well.

Christmas is about a Person too – the most important Person in my life. Just as I delight in telling my grandchildren about the loved ones connected to my treasured traditions, I delight in telling them about Jesus, my Savior, Lord, and Friend, and His faithfulness to our family. But unlike the conversations that center around Christmas traditions, I endeavor to weave stories about God’s goodness throughout all of our times together, when we sit around my table or go for a walk in my neighborhood, when I tuck them in on sleepover nights and when I get them up for church.

Family traditions can cultivate a strong sense of belonging and lay a foundation for future connections when children and grandchildren grow up and have families of their own. But there’s no firmer foundation and no stronger connection than knowing Your heavenly Father loves you and chose you before the creation of the world to be adopted into His forever family (Ephesians 1:4-5).

My grandchildren have visited the small country cemetery in North Carolina where PaPa, Ray, and Mom are resting, awaiting the glorious resurrection day. Because God gave us the priceless gift of His Son, we can be assured that when Jesus returns, we will once again experience that “Being together is the best gift” –  with Him and our loved ones, eternally secure in His presence.

I pray that until that day, one generation after another of my family will carry on the tradition of telling their children about the glorious deeds of the Lord, and His might, and the wonders that He has done (Psalm 78:4).

Thanks, Mom! – Encore

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Her children rise up and call her blessed.
Proverbs 31:28a

My dear little mom was born on November 24, 1931. Every few years, the anniversary of her birth falls on Thanksgiving. I think it’s so appropriate when it does since Mom’s life blessed me and many others. I originally wrote “Thanks, Mom!” for her birthday in 2018. I reprised it in 2022 and am considering rerunning it as a tribute to her every year. Mom was just that special.

Thus, in grateful appreciation to God for the gift of a godly mother and in recognition of what would have been her 93rd birthday today, I’ve added another of “Mom’s mottos,” “think positive,” and offer this otherwise lightly edited version of the initial post.

Mom’s Mottos

Following are some nuggets of wisdom Mom shared with me throughout my life. I referred to them as “Mom’s mottos” in her eulogy. They’ve become ingrained in my psyche, and I’ve passed them on to my daughters and am now sharing them with my grandchildren.

People will let you down, but God never will. Mom and I endured numerous trials together in the 62 years between my birth and her passing. Lies, disappointments, job loss, broken relationships, health crises, and deaths. Through it all, Mom taught me to depend on the One who says He’ll never leave or forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6), faithfully keeps His promises (Hebrews 10:23), and speaks only truth (Hebrews 6:18). We will have troubles in this world, but Jesus has overcome the world. We can find peace in Him. (John 16:33)

When faced with a list of tasks, do whatever’s bothering you the most first and get it behind you. When I felt overwhelmed, which was more often than I like to admit, Mom encouraged me with this time-tested advice one of her grade-school teachers bestowed upon her. Though it may not have been inspired by Scripture originally, there’s undoubtedly a Biblical tie-in. Usually, when my to-do list becomes overloaded, it’s filled with chores associated with temporal concerns. Cooking, cleaning, weeding, mulching, paying bills, and the like are necessary. But Jesus makes it clear we’re to seek eternal things first, trusting Him to provide all we need (Matthew 6:25-33) and spending time at His feet to learn of Him (Luke 10:38-42).

We can’t change anyone else, much as we’d like to sometimes. We can only give an account of ourselves. My reply when Mom would tell me this? “You’re right. I have a hard enough time keeping myself in line!” Once again, there’s Biblical truth in Mom’s statement. As part of His magnificent Sermon on the Mount, Jesus warned against judging others, especially since we have sin to deal with in our own lives (Matthew 7:1-5). Praise God for giving us His Spirit, which is at work in us to bring about the transformation we’re incapable of accomplishing on our own (2 Corinthians 3:17-18). Furthermore, we’re called to pray for others because only He can soften hardened hearts (Ezekiel 36:25-27).

We can’t give up. We’ve got to hold on to our faith and keep going. Throughout her life, Mom faced challenges that may have led some to quit or become bitter. In the last decade of her life alone, she:

  • shattered the bones in her right shoulder, an injury that required surgery to install a plate and multiple screws, and left her with a limited range of motion in that arm.
  • suffered a heart attack that led to the discovery of three severely blocked arteries, requiring emergency open-heart surgery.
  •  fractured a vertebra in her back and had a procedure known as kyphoplasty to repair it.

Mom endured daily pain due to the ravages of arthritis that led to enlarged joints in her fingers and a bone-on-bone right knee due to cartilage deterioration. Yet she rarely mentioned her constant aches. Instead, she clung to God’s mercies, which are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-24), and encouraged those in her inner circle to do the same. Not surprisingly, her life verse was Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” It appears on her grave marker.

There’s an end to everything and everybody sometime sooner or later. Mom usually used this phrase when a situation called for consolation, such as when a cherished object wore out, broke, or was lost. But her most poignant use of the saying came several days after she broke her hip. She recited it to me during one of her lucid moments, followed by, “I guess this is the end of me.” As much as it hurt to hear her acknowledge what was becoming increasingly likely, I could comfort her with the assurance of complete healing that awaited. As we live under the curse where death and brokenness are certainties, we have the promise of Christ’s return when all will be made new, and death will be no more (Revelation 21:1-4).

There’s nothing so bad it couldn’t be worse. Similar to the motto above, Mom used this one to offer comfort. It also reminds me to be thankful even in trying circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:18). For believers, even death isn’t the worst possible scenario. Instead, it ushers us into the presence of Jesus (2 Corinthians 5:6-8).

Think positive! In some ways, Mom and Dad were a classic case of opposites attracting. Dad was more solemn and tended to focus on potential negatives in a given situation. Being a blend of the two, there were times when I, too, would see a half-empty glass. When Dad or I started imagining a worst-case scenario, Mom cheerfully yet firmly encouraged us to “think positive!”  Trusting God and knowing He works all things together for good for those who love Him (Romans 8:28) allowed Mom to maintain a positive attitude through even daunting circumstances. I imagine her greeting Dad when he entered Glory last year with a joyful, “See, John, I told you to ‘think positive.’ It’s all ok!”

That’s a Gulf song. This statement isn’t advice, but I include it because it alludes to my heritage of faith. Mom grew up in the tiny town of Gulf, NC, where she attended a small Presbyterian church established in the 1800s. When the strains of a familiar hymn from her childhood would begin to play at our current church, Mom’s face would brighten, and one of us would usually lean toward the other and whisper, “That’s a Gulf song.” On a recent Sunday morning, I whispered the same to my granddaughter Lyla, explaining the connection after the service. I don’t know how many generations my heritage of faith encompasses, but I know there are at least two behind me and two in front. I pray that the legacy of faith will be passed continually from generation to generation until Christ returns (Deuteronomy 6:4-9).

Mom’s Enduring Love

Oh, how I miss Mom! Though petite, she had a big, beautiful smile and an even bigger heart. She was my main cheerleader and most dependable defender. We all need someone who’s unconditionally, unreservedly in our corner. I’m so thankful Mom was in mine. She was my rock because she consistently pointed me to the Rock and reminded me that His everlasting arms are securely holding all who belong to Him in an eternal embrace (Deuteronomy 33:26-27a). And since Mom’s love was grounded in God’s great love, it will be with me until we meet again.

Dear LORD, thank You for the priceless blessing of a godly mother and the assurance that I will see her again! Please help me to recount Your goodness and faithfulness to coming generations as she did.

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). 

The Empty Nest, Take 2

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Grandchildren are the crown of the aged, and the glory of children is their fathers.
Proverbs 17:6

Losing my job had an upside I couldn’t imagine the afternoon my supervisor informed me that the company I’d worked for for 30 years no longer required my services or expertise. God knew I was needed elsewhere. My daughter Mary was early in her first pregnancy when I lost my job and was looking forward to having me around more often. She gave birth to Joshua, my first grandchild, six months later. For eleven years, until all the children were in school, I spent two days a week at Mary’s house, first with Joshua, then later with three little ones when his two sisters joined the mix. We looked forward to those days and came to refer to them as Grammie days.

Several summers ago, I became aware of a “whoosh” whenever I stepped out the front door onto their small porch. I soon realized I was being strafed by a mamma bird who’d built her nest in an eave of the entryway. She picked a perfect place. Not only were she and her carefully constructed home sheltered from the elements and out of reach of any passing predators, but we could observe from inside the house without disturbing her. My son-in-law Justin peeked into the nest when mamma bird was away and found five tiny eggs. We watched as she faithfully warmed and protected the eggs. One day we saw five little heads, mouths agape, as the babies begged for food. Mamma bird diligently cared for her brood. The little ones thrived under her care. Then, one day, I went over, and the porch was quiet.

They were gone.

Even though we human mothers have years to nurture our children, time passes so quickly that it sometimes seems it’s only days, like the time it took the mother bird to raise her young. Over the years, I’ve shared this bittersweet sentiment with other mothers: “If we do our job well, the result is an independent adult.” Mothering requires a balance of holding on and letting go and the wisdom to know which to employ at any particular time in our children’s lives. It’s a difficult but necessary process.

Yet my dear mother often said, “Once a mother, always a mother,” a statement as valid as the one I wrote above. We hold our children close in our hearts and prayers regardless of their life stages, ready to assist if called on. I’m quite sure the mamma bear syndrome knows no age limits. After all, of the many people who were upset when my 30-year career ended via termination, Mom was the most incensed by the treatment I’d received. Though tiny, she was my staunchest defender until her passing three years ago. Likewise, I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting my kids and grandkids!

It’s that time of year – the time of graduations and weddings. So, for you mothers reading this and contemplating the emptying of your nests, I offer this: one day, you may realize the independent adult you worked so long and hard to raise has become one of your very best friends. Someone who brings joy to your life in new ways as you continue to cheer them on and are blessed by the fruits of your labors and theirs.

I vividly remember driving home after Mary and Justin’s wedding. I thought, “That’s it. I gave her away. It’s all over.” I was so wrong. I gained a son that night, and then came three brand new people whom I’m blessed to know and spend time with. Though my nest emptied years ago when my daughters graduated from college and established their own households, Mary and Justin’s nest is full, and I am welcome there. Welcome to help nurture a new generation and introduce them to plants and mamma birds and to their Savior, the One who loves them even more than I do.

Teach Your Children

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Hello, dear readers!

Occasionally, I’ll take a devotional I’ve prepared for a women’s event, make a few edits, and use it as a blog post. This is one of those times. It’s a bit longer and not as tidy as usual, grammatically. Still, I hope you can imagine yourself being part of the group listening to this message on one of my very favorite subjects, passing our faith on to future generations.

As you’ll see, I alternated between reading Scripture and making comments.

24/7

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise (Deuteronomy 6:4-7).

Moses’ directive to teach our children may feel overwhelming because it covers every part of our day. But it is doable! Because God is present and pertinent to every moment of our lives. As many of you know, I love to garden. When I’m outside, many of Jesus’ parables come to life – God’s care for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, how branches can’t survive much less bear fruit if they’re not attached to the vine, the importance of good soil if you want your plants to flourish. And then there’s the vast diversity of plants and animals that God created.

When my grandson Joshua was still a toddler, we made a pact that he would teach me about animals, and I would teach him about plants. It’s worked out great. Not only have we both learned from each other, but many of our conversations include comments about God. We wonder why He made roaches. (Most days, we think they were part of the curse!) We look forward to seeing how everything will fit together when all the plants and animals take their proper places on the new earth. And, when Joshua starts talking about predators, and I lament creatures killing each other, I often quote Isaiah 65:25: “They will not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain,” says the Lord, followed by, “I can’t wait!”

Abundant Evidence

You may be thinking, “I’m not a gardener. I don’t particularly like being outside, especially during pollen season!”  But listen to this verse from the first chapter of Romans:

For (God’s) invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So (we) are without excuse (Romans 1:20).

That verse certainly speaks about creation – all the world around us, the heavens, oceans, mountains, plants, animals – but God also created us, and, as Psalm 139:14 states, we’re fearfully and wonderfully made. So, we can talk to our children about how wonderfully God made our bodies. We get well when we’re sick. Cuts and broken bones heal. And how about the miracle of sleep? We’re unaware of the world for hours at a time and then wake up again. I think that’s amazing!

I’ve been blessed this year to be the troop shepherd for the American Heritage Girls troop that meets at our church. Each week, when I prepared the devotional, I found Scriptures that related to what we were doing, regardless of the week’s focus. Subjects ranged from our identity in Christ to architecture to world cultures and aspects of our Oath and Creed. The latter features characteristics that we’re trying to develop in our lives so we’re more like Jesus, things like compassion, honesty, loyalty, perseverance, and helpfulness. In the last devotional for the year, I told the girls I hoped they’d been able to see how God’s inspired Word applies to all of life.

Spiritual Legacy

Give ear, O my people, to my teaching;
incline your ears to the words of my mouth!
I will open my mouth in a parable;
I will utter dark sayings from of old,
things that we have heard and known,
that our fathers have told us.
We will not hide them from their children,
but tell to the coming generation
the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might,
and the wonders that he has done.
He established a testimony in Jacob
and appointed a law in Israel,
which he commanded our fathers
to teach to their children,
that the next generation might know them,
the children yet unborn,
and arise and tell them to their children,
   so that they should set their hope in God
and not forget the works of God,
but keep his commandments Psalm 78:1-7

My beloved maternal grandfather, PaPa, was a kind, gentle man of faith who served as a deacon at his church.

We’re commanded to tell the next generation about God and His mighty deeds – personal stories recounting how God has worked in your life and been faithful to you and your family. Most of us would say we want to leave a material legacy of some sort for our offspring. However, a spiritual legacy is even more significant because it has eternal value. It’s part of the treasure Jesus commanded us to store up in heaven, a treasure that can’t rust or decay or be stolen (Matthew 6:19-21). I know my grandparents were Christians, so my grandchildren are at least the fifth successive generation who’ve been told the mighty deeds of the Lord. I pray that our family’s heritage of faith will continue until Jesus returns, regardless of how many generations are yet to come.  

Overflowing with Thankfulness

Going back to Deuteronomy chapter 6, we see the following warning:

“And when the Lord your God brings you into the land that he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give you—with great and good cities that you did not build, and houses full of all good things that you did not fill, and cisterns that you did not dig, and vineyards and olive trees that you did not plant—and when you eat and are full, then take care lest you forget the Lord, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery (Deuteronomy 6:10-12).

We’re in danger of forgetting that God is the source of all good gifts, aren’t we? When things are going well and we’re thriving, we tend to think it’s due to our actions and that we’ve got it all under control. One way to combat that wrong thinking and to share our faith is to openly and frequently praise and thank God for His many blessings, acknowledging that all we have and are is from Him and encouraging our children and grandchildren to do the same.

Furthermore, we, too, were enslaved until God rescued us from the bondage of sin. The fact that He transferred our citizenship to the kingdom of His beloved Son is reason enough to rejoice and give thanks every day (Colossians 1:13-14).

The Danger of Misplacing the Word

This spring, we’ve been studying “What a Royal Mess“ in Bible study.[1] The lessons take us through Israel’s history, focusing on the ups and downs associated with some of the kings of Israel and Judah. Often, it was a mess because many of the kings were evil and led the people in worshiping other gods. After God gave the Law, He gave further instructions, including this message for Israel’s kings:

And when he sits on the throne of his kingdom, he shall write for himself in a book a copy of this law, approved by the Levitical priests. And it shall be with him, and he shall read in it all the days of his life, that he may learn to fear the Lord his God by keeping all the words of this law and these statutes, and doing them (Deuteronomy 17:18-19).

Fast forward several hundred years, Josiah is on the throne in Judah, and Hilkiah, the high priest, found the Book of the Law in the temple when renovations began. When he read it to Josiah, one of the few good kings, Josiah tore his clothes in dismay because he realized God’s people had been far from obeying its contents. To say Hilkiah found the Book of the Covenant implies that it had been lost and certainly not kept on hand, much less read,  by the kings who preceded Josiah. It’s no wonder the people had gone astray without God’s Word to guide them. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be the generation that misplaces God’s Word for the next generation. 

This sobering reminder takes us back to where we began, emphasizing the importance of one generation telling the next about God, His Word, His abundant blessings, and the need to obey Him. We must practice seeing and sharing how God, His ways, and His glory are apparent in all aspects of our lives. The more we practice seeing, the more we’re able to see.

Another beautiful thing about sharing with our children and grandchildren is that in reminding them, we’re also reminding ourselves, creating a delightful process of growing together. I hope I’ve given you plenty of ideas and reasons to do so. 😊

[1] Susan Tyner, “What a Royal Mess, A Study of 1 and 2 Kings,” (Lawrenceville, GA: CDM, 2023)

Legacy, Lament, and Longevity

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.” “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”
1 Corinthians 15:54-55

There they were, sitting side by side on a sofa at a funeral home – Mom, Dad, and my Aunt Margie, Dad’s only remaining sibling. The occasion? The service for another of his sisters. A solemn thought pervaded my soul later that evening when I gazed at the photo capturing the moment. Mom was one of eight siblings, and Dad was one of ten. Eighteen siblings had been reduced to three, and, given their ages and the relentless march of time, I knew they, too, were drawing near to the end even if the Lord blessed them with several more years.

That was January 2020. Mom passed in April 2021, Dad in July 2023, and Aunt Margie joined the family circle on high ten days ago. Oh, how it hurts to write those words and contemplate the void left in our family. A whole generation is no longer with us.

But what a generation it was! Dad’s family line-up began with two older brothers, followed by four older sisters. Dad came next, the eldest of the four younger boys. The siblings who preceded Dad served in WW II. Uncle Harry was in the army and helped liberate one of the concentration camps. Uncle Fred flew numerous bombing missions. Meanwhile, the sisters worked for the Justice Department in Washington, DC. The younger brothers served our country in later conflicts and times of peace.

With birth dates ranging from 1916 to 1937, Dad and his siblings lived through the hardships of The Great Depression. Their experiences during that tough time and humble beginnings in rural North Carolina undoubtedly shaped their values. During his eulogy for Dad, one of my cousins described him and his siblings with three Ds: Duty to country, devotion to family, and dedication to their chosen professions.

Aunt Margie

I could say so much more about my aunts and uncles, but I want to turn my attention to Aunt Margie.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve known Aunt Margie was a widow who raised four children on her own. My admiration of her as a single mother grew exponentially when I, too, was widowed at a young age and started raising my two elementary-aged daughters alone. Knowing she’d persevered for years and seeing how my cousins turned out inspired me to keep going. It wasn’t until I read Aunt Margie’s obituary that I realized she began her solo journey at an even younger age than I did – 33 years vs 38.

But that wasn’t the only area where Aunt Margie’s determination encouraged me. Like me, she loved to work in her yard and continued to do so well into her 80s.

Mom and Dad kept in touch with Aunt Margie and would fill me in on their conversations, including reports of “Margie was out working in her yard again!” which they inevitably conveyed in concerned tones. My enthusiastic reply? “Good for her! I hope I’m able to do the same!”

I felt a similar sense of, “You go, girl!” when I read this section from Aunt Margie’s obituary:

She didn’t care for Pilates or yoga, and she absolutely despised having to do physical therapy after a fall. She preferred to get her exercise by planting, weeding, and tending her flowers and vegetable garden, and insisted on mowing her yard with a push mower. Her approach to physical fitness served her well, as evidenced by her longevity.

Grandmama

Speaking of longevity, though Dad was the only one of the male siblings to make it into their 90s, all four of his sisters did. Two passed away within days of their 94th birthdays, while the other two made it to 95. And Grandmama, who bore those ten children, surpassed them all. She lived 95 years and 10 months, six months longer than Aunt Margie.

Though I have fond memories of visiting Grandmama when I was a child, I treasure the times I visited her as an adult, especially when it was just the two of us. She’s been gone 30 years, but even now, as I type, I can envision her serene countenance and see the Bible she kept on the table next to her favorite chair. I recall the softness of her skin as I held her hand during our quiet chats.

Another memory comes into focus, one of a visit my husband Ray and I paid her. When our visit was over, Grandmama walked us to the door. As we lingered on the porch, saying our reluctant goodbyes, she said, “Don’t wait too long to come back to see me. I’m going Home soon.”

I have no doubt that confident assurance contributed to Grandmama’s serenity. After a long and often challenging life, she knew she was nearing Home.

The Ultimate Longevity

It’s been heartbreaking to lose so many loved ones over the years. But death doesn’t get the final say. Regardless of how many years God grants us in this life, they’re a mere drop in the vast ocean of eternal longevity. As I grieve the loss of my last aunt, I’m once again turning to the promise of a grand reunion to assuage my sorrow. If it weren’t for that, our lament would know no solace, but because of it, we can rejoice in knowing that for those who die in Christ, death isn’t the end. It is a most glorious beginning.

Dear Lord, last Sunday, we celebrated Your resurrection. Thank You for conquering death so that we, too, will rise again when You return with glorified bodies like Yours that will never get sick or grow old or die! What a joy to know that we’ll be reunited with our loved ones and live in Your presence forever!