Family

Selfless

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Philippians 2:3-4

Missing Mom

Mother’s Day is next Sunday. The floral department at the grocery store I frequent is already filling with balloons, cards, and flowers for the occasion. No matter how prepared I think I am to face the cheerful display, the knowledge that I won’t be buying anything for Mom makes sadness well up as I pass by on my way to the bread aisle. You see, this will be my sixth Mother’s Day without her since she went to be with the Lord a few days before the holiday in 2021.

I was blessed to have a godly mother who was my best friend, life-long cheerleader, and prayer warrior. There are numerous adjectives I could use to describe Mom – petite, patient, kind, loving, giving – but the one that tops them all is selfless. Whenever I read the passage above from Philippians 2, I think of Mom.

A Servant Heart

When my husband died suddenly at the age of 39, leaving me with two young daughters to raise on my own, Mom and Dad graciously moved from North Carolina to a house two miles from mine in Georgia. Though Dad sometimes lamented the loss of what he thought their retirement years would be like, Mom never did. She wholeheartedly came alongside me to help raise Mary and Jessie. There was no, “Look at me! Aren’t I great for making this sacrifice?” Instead, when I would thank her and tell her that I didn’t know how I would have made it without her, she would reply, “I couldn’t have stood it if we’d stayed in North Carolina, knowing you and the girls were here by yourselves.”

Thus, my daughters and I, and years later my grandchildren, were blessed by her loving care and presence. A few examples:

  • When my daughters were tiny and spent the night with my parents, they would sometimes become fretful or afraid. Mom would comfort them, then lie down by their crib until she was sure they’d fallen back asleep.
  • When I was working full-time and traveling, Mom would occasionally clean my house so I could relax on the weekends. When my daughters were old enough, she enlisted their help during the summer, teaching them the importance of helping others.
  • Mom prepared countless homemade meals, not to mention pound cakes and cookies that she shared with friends, doctors, and service folks, including appliance repair techs, mechanics who worked on my parents’ cars, and emergency responders who worked to restore power in their neighborhood after Hurricane Hugo blew through Charlotte.
  • Whenever Mom shared something – fresh fruits and vegetables from the produce stand she and Dad frequented, fragrant flowers from her gardenia bush – she chose the best for the recipient rather than for herself.
  • Each time Mom accompanied me to spend the day with my grandchildren, she made sure to have a small surprise for them, ranging from stickers and coloring pages to a sweet or salty treat.

A Humble Heart

Mom had no aspirations of greatness. During her long career as a bank teller, she had opportunities to become a manager, but she was content to remain at the counter serving customers, some of whom would wait in her line even when other tellers were available.

Similarly, Mom was satisfied to serve at home, out of the spotlight, cheering her family on in their endeavors.

Ironically, “Eulogy for a Godly Mother”[1] is my most widely read post by far. I don’t know how much of the post people read, but I hope they read at least a few of “Mom’s Mottos” and decide to put some of them into practice. I smile, thinking about how much Mom’s influence may have spread through that article.

Our Savior’s Heart

After the Apostle Paul instructs his Philippian readers to put others’ interests before their own, he goes on to say:

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (Philippians 2:5-8).

Mom was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. Selfless and generous, she delighted in serving and giving to others. I think of her whenever I read Philippians 2:3-8. Mom humbly put others’ interests before her own. Though she never would have been bold enough to say, “Be imitators of me as I imitate Christ,” as the Apostle Paul did (1 Corinthians 11:1), nor did she hold herself up as a godly role model, she nonetheless set a beautiful example for me to follow.

The best way to honor her memory is to follow her, as she followed Jesus, the One who demonstrated ultimate selflessness. Though I often fall short, one of the greatest compliments anyone can pay me is to say that some aspect of my character resembles Mom’s.

Although Mom didn’t receive many worldly accolades, I know her reward in heaven is great. She stored up much heavenly treasure during her earthly life (Matthew 6:19-21). Her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren rise up and call her blessed (Proverbs 31:28). I will be forever grateful for the gift of a godly mother.

[1] https://patsykuipers.com/2021/05/09/eulogy-for-a-godly-mother/

Christmas Tears

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.
Revelation 21:4

Significant Losses

For most of my life, the happy anticipation of my birthday and Christmas filled the month of December. Even though I was born a few days before Christmas, Mom always made sure my special day didn’t get lost amidst the other holiday festivities. I was blessed to have her with me for 62 birthdays. She went Home in the spring of my 63rd year. By the time December rolled around, my 90-year-old father had a live-in caregiver to assist him after the stroke he suffered a few months after Mom passed.

If I could have, I would have fast-forwarded to January. Mom and I had so many treasured traditions, I didn’t feel like celebrating without her. Still, I went through the motions for my family’s sake. By the time my second Christmas without Mom rolled around, Dad was in an assisted living facility, and by the third, he’d joined Mom in the presence of Jesus.

I wondered if the December joys I experienced for so many years would ever return. Finally, last year I felt the stirrings of old, familiar anticipation, and this year I fully embraced the joys of the season.

Sometime Every Christmas, I cry.[1]

Nonetheless, my post-Christmas melancholy is almost as customary as the happy anticipation that precedes the holiday, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when it arrived the day after Christmas. Not only were the gifts given and family gatherings completed, but also the Facebook memories of Christmases past greased the rails of the downward emotional slope.

As I gazed through tear-filled eyes at photos of family feasts and gift exchanges when Mom and Dad were still with us, I remembered a comment one of my friends made several years ago. Even as we mourn the empty seats at our table, longing to be with our departed loved ones, Scripture assures us that there’s an empty seat waiting for us at the heavenly banquet (Revelation 19:6-9).

A Breath Away[2]

A character on a show I was watching recently died. As he neared the end of his life, the rapt look on his face, accompanied by a statement describing a vision of deceased loved ones, reminded me of a similar experience I had with Mom a few days before her passing. I stood by her bed, trying to calm her constant fidgeting, when she became quiet. A look of wonder stole over her face. She stared past me, smiled as if gazing around a room full of loved ones, long gone, and whispered, “Is that Ray? There you all are! It’s been a long time. Do you remember me?” The moment passed quickly, but it left an impression I’ll never forget.

Likewise, there was the conversation I had with Dad’s hospice nurse as we waited together in the wee hours of the morning for the undertaker to come.

“Did your dad tell you he’s been seeing your mom?”

“No, he didn’t, but it doesn’t surprise me. I told him she’d be waiting for him.”

Christmas Hope

I know, like me, many of you are missing loved ones this Christmas season, some of you much more recently bereaved than I am. But because of the Baby in the manger, whose birth we just celebrated, we can rest assured that our believing loved ones are safe at Home and there’s a place waiting for us (John 14:2-3).

We will join them one day because that Baby was the Word made flesh. He dwelt among us for a while, full of grace and truth (John 1:14), yet despised and rejected by men. Sinless, He was crushed for our transgressions (Isaiah 53:3, 5) so that we can be robed in His righteousness (2 Corinthians 5:21), made perfect, fit to dwell with our high and holy God, who is also our Heavenly Father. He loved us so much that He sent His only Son to save us (John 3:16).

That good news isn’t just for December! The Christmas message infuses every day with joy and hope.

So take heart, dear ones. The separation is only temporary. Each passing day brings us closer to our real Home, where we will join those who have gone before us, rejoicing in the presence of our gracious and merciful King.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:1-4)

[1] Inspired by lyrics from “Sometime Every Christmas,” by Michael W. Smith.

[2] Inspired by lyrics from “To Where You Are,” by Josh Groban.

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.