Teach Your Children

May 5, 2024 / 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)

Faith Connections

August 13, 2023 / Patsy Kuipers / 4 Comments

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.
3 John 1:4

Ending and Beginning

My 30-year career at a large corporation came to an abrupt end 12 years ago in a windowless conference room where my manager stated, “I know you’re expecting your annual review, but you won’t be having it because your job has been eliminated.”

Given all that had happened in the months leading up to her pronouncement, the news didn’t come as a surprise. I knew it was an answer to prayer for direction and a clear indication from the Lord that my time there was over.[1]

Some might say a chapter of my life ended that day, but the years encompassing my work history would fill a volume. I was thankful for the many opportunities and relationships I’d had over those three decades and for the salary and benefits the work provided, especially after I was widowed at age 38 and was left to raise two young daughters on my own.

I knew the Lord had something else for me to do, but I never could have imagined the story He planned to write in Volume 2. Three months after the fateful afternoon, I returned to school to study horticulture. Three months after that, I became Grammie to my first grandchild, a beautiful baby boy.

Grandboy Blessings

When I worked, my cubicle overlooked an attractively landscaped courtyard. Many days, I’d gaze out the window and wish I could be outside enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. I recalled those longings when I pushed Joshua through the neighborhood in his stroller, grateful that the Lord had not only fulfilled them but had also given me someone to share my love of the outdoors with. Joshua was my study buddy from his earliest days. While we strolled, I practiced my plant ID, pointing things out to him and repeating their names.

As Joshua grew, it became evident that he had an extraordinary ability to learn and retain information. Words like predator, prehensile, and paleontologist were part of his pre-school vocabulary. One day when I asked him which animal we might find in a box of animal crackers, he sincerely answered, “Ringtail lemur.” (If you surmised we watched countless episodes of Wild Kratts, you’d be correct!) I made a deal with Joshua, “You teach me about animals, and I’ll teach you about plants.”

Our deal has worked well over the years, even though I’ll never catch up to Joshua’s knowledge about animals, and he can hold his own in our plant discussions. He’s a great field trip buddy too. I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about The Pocket, my favorite place to relish spring wildflowers, since it’s a small, remote area some 70 miles away. His enthusiastic, “Can we come again next year, Grammie?” when we’d barely left the parking lot after our first visit, dispelled my doubts.

Spiritual Links

As much as I delight in telling Joshua about plants, I cherish telling him about the One who created everything even more. In fact, many of our plant and animal conversations will lead us to a Scriptural connection:

We marvel that God created so many different varieties of plants and animals.
We look forward to the day when the ground will no longer be cursed with thistles and thorns, and the animals will no longer attack each other (Revelation 22:1-3; Isaiah 11:6-9).
We ponder things like, “Why did God create roaches?” (Ick!!)
When the good guy wins and the bad guys get their comeuppance in a Wild Kratts episode, we assure each other that Jesus, the ultimate Hero, will subdue His enemies and make all things right (Revelation 11:15).

I often remind Joshua and his sisters that God displays His character throughout creation. It’s up to us to pay attention, see the spiritual tie-ins, and give thanks for God’s good gifts.

Parable of the Bulbs

Given our nature-related Bible lessons, you can imagine how pleased I was by the exchange Joshua and I had one recent afternoon. He’d been helping me clean out my garage when he came across some bulbs I’d dug up and tossed into some empty pots intending to offer them to fellow gardeners. Alas, they’d been sitting in those pots for over a year. After such a long time out of the ground, I doubted they’d be viable, but I told Joshua he could sort through them and see if there were any signs of life.

He set about his task and found a few bulbs with tiny green sprouts emerging from their tips. I explained he could gently squeeze the other bulbs to judge their status. They might be worth planting if they weren’t mushy or completely dried out.

A few more minutes passed, and Joshua announced, “Grammie! I removed the dried-out layers from the outside of the bulbs, and some of them show signs of life. That made me think of a parable!”

“Really? Tell me your parable!”

He did.

“That’s great, Joshua! I might have to include it in a blog post.”

Thus, here, with some minor edits, is Joshua’s “Parable of the Bulbs”:

Mankind is like a pile of bulbs sitting in a pot. They look dead until you strip away the outer layers. On some you’ll see some new foliage, yellowed from lack of sun, but the bulb is still alive. On others the core of the bulb is dead. The ones that are dead can’t be planted. Their core is rotten and they must be thrown on the debris pile. The others, however, can be placed in a pot of soil and can be grown again.

This parable is applicable to our life in Christ because we’re like the bulbs. We’re all dead until Jesus comes and strips the outer layers away and gives us new life in Him. When we’re alive, we can be planted in the pot of heaven. Those who lack new life in Christ are thrown into the debris pile, where they’ll rot forever.

The fact that Joshua could see a spiritual connection while sorting through the pile of bulbs made my heart happy. It also fuels my desire to continue to help Joshua and his sisters make those connections – evidence of God’s goodness is all around us. What a privilege to tell the youngest generation about His steadfast love!

[1] If you’d like to read more about those circumstances, please see “Working All Things Together for Good,” Archives, July 2014.

Legacy and Longing

July 30, 2023July 30, 2023 / Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

Dear readers, the events of the past few years as I walked with Mom and Dad on their Homeward journeys have filled my mind and heart with myriad images and emotions, plenty to ponder, process, and write about in the coming weeks. But today, the brain fog of grief is still with me, and those images and emotions are jumbled together, so I’m rerunning one of my favorite posts with a brief intro.

Last Wednesday, we laid Dad to rest in the little country cemetery where Mom, my husband Ray, and many other cherished relatives are already interred. Until Mom’s funeral two years ago, the peaceful place was an abstract idea for my grandchildren, “where Grandpa Kuipers is buried.” But now they’ve sat in the same wooden pews where several generations of Phillips relatives sat and have seen the Sunday school classroom where I heard Bible stories before joining adults for worship when I visited as a child. They’ve seen the grave markers and felt the tranquility that permeates the very breeze that gently ruffles the leaves of decades-old trees that tower above them.

They’ve also walked the aisles of the general store just down the street from the little church, the same aisles I trod with my beloved grandfather six decades ago. I wrote “Eating Apples” in loving memory of him. I’m not sure if he was the first believer in his family or if our Christian legacy began even further back. Regardless, his faith and faithfulness formed a significant link in my heritage, one that is now shaping a fourth generation.

With the passing of each loved one, the hope of heaven becomes increasingly precious. Just as there is a spot between Mom and Ray waiting to receive my earthly remains, I know Jesus is preparing a place where I will dwell with Him forever. Until then, I pray He will help me to be faithful in sharing His goodness and grace with those He places in my path.

And now, let me introduce you to PaPa, my beloved grandfather.

Eating Apples – encore

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13

Cherished Memories

I don’t have many distinct memories of my grandfather since I was in first grade when he passed away. However, I cherish the recollections I do have. Details provided by my mom as she spoke lovingly of her father over the years complete my mental portrait of this kind and gentle man.

Born July 31, 1890, James Alton Phillips was a short fellow, about 5’ 3”, who weighed 125 pounds, give or take a few. Genetics undoubtedly played a part in his slight build, but a lifetime of hard work farming his land also contributed to his compact physique. My mom was the baby of her family, the youngest of eight siblings, and her father’s darling. He called her “Babe” and warmed her clothes by the fire before she went to school on cold mornings.

Occasionally my grandmother, sterner in her demeanor, would 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.

As for me, 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,” as I called him, would sit me on his lap, producing an apple in one hand and a small knife in the other. He’d cut a slice for me, then a slice for himself. Back and forth the ritual would continue 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.

A Godly Man

“Mr. Jim,” as the people around town knew him, was a man of faith, a deacon in the tiny country church where he worshiped. He embodied the fruits of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). When he suffered a heart attack a few months before he died, the doctor told him he had to limit his physical activities. The doctor’s order was like a death sentence for a man who loved his garden and was used to being outside. He’d sit in the kitchen of the home he shared with my grandmother, his wife of 55 years, turn his gaze toward the little church, and comment he’d rather be in the cemetery than just sitting around.

Nearly 58 years ago, on October 25, 1965, God called PaPa Home. He had gone outside to check on some work a neighbor was doing for him, work he would much rather have done himself. In a fitting end to his earthly life, he died in his garden. I can still hear my mother’s anguished cry, “No, not Daddy!,” when she received the phone call telling her of his passing.

Abiding Love

Although our relationship was brief in terms of time, and nearly six decades have passed since we last shared an apple, PaPa’s love impacts me to this day. Years after his death, the large corporation I worked for sent me to a training course, one of many I attended during my career. But that one, a self-awareness workshop, was different. A team of psychologists facilitated it, and it was intense. One of our first exercises involved closing our eyes and imagining a safe place. I immediately envisioned myself in my grandfather’s lap, sharing an apple with him. The physical nourishment we’d partaken of paled compared to the bonds of unconditional love and acceptance formed during our time together.

Today I’m privileged to be “Grammie” to three precious grandchildren. Sharing snacks, especially apples, is one of my favorite things to do with them. It connects me to them and them to my grandfather, who they’ve come to know by my loving accounts of my short yet precious time with him.

A Promised Reunion

I don’t get to visit the small graveyard where my grandparents and many other maternal relatives are laid to rest as often as I’d like. My husband Ray is buried there, too, near my sister, Mary Jeannette, who died in infancy. Last spring, Mom took her place between them, leaving a space for me.

When I worked, my job frequently took me to that area of North Carolina, and I’d visit the cemetery as often as possible. I would 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 little rituals 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! Please help us to be resolute in telling those coming along behind us about Your great love and faithfulness so that they, too, may know the joy and peace of belonging to Your family.

Abiding Love, Reprise

February 12, 2023 / Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

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

Do They Remember?

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Remember

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

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

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

Photographs and Memories

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

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

Legacy of Faith

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

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

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

Cloud of Witnesses

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

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

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

The Father’s Love

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

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

What a glorious assurance!

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

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

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

Thanks, Mom! (Reprise)

November 27, 2022November 27, 2022 / 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. Thus, in grateful appreciation to God for the gift of a godly mother and in recognition of what would have been her 91^st birthday on Thanksgiving this year, I offer this lightly-edited version of the initial post.[1]

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.[2] 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 liked to admit, Mom encouraged me with this time-tested advice bestowed upon her by one of her grade-school teachers. 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 in our own lives to deal with (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 resulting in 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 cartilage deterioration resulting in a bone-on-bone 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. During one of her lucid moments, she recited it to me, 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).

That’s a Gulf song. Granted, 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 8-year-old granddaughter, 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 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.

O 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.

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

[1] Please see “Thanks, Mom!”, Archives, November 2018.

[2] Please see “Eulogy for a Godly Mother”, Archives, May 2021.

Eating Apples – encore

July 31, 2022 / Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

I first published “Eating Apples” on October 25, 2015, the 50^th anniversary of my beloved grandfather’s death. It remains one of my favorite posts because it’s about one of my favorite people. I’ve made several edits and added some scripture references, but the heart of the story – my grandfather’s legacy of faith and love – remains. Today I’m posting this revision in honor of the 132^nd anniversary of his birth.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13

Cherished Memories

Born July 31, 1890, James Alton Phillips was a short fellow, about
5’ 3”, who weighed 125 pounds, give or take a few. No doubt genetics played a part in his slight build, but a lifetime of hard work farming his land undoubtedly contributed to his wiry physique. My mom was the baby of her family, the youngest of eight siblings, and her father’s darling. He called her “Babe” and warmed her clothes by the fire for her before she went off to school on cold mornings.

As for me, 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,” as I called him, would sit me on his lap, produce an apple in one hand and a small knife in the other. He’d cut a slice for me, then a slice for himself. Back and forth the ritual would continue 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.

A Godly Man

Nearly 57 years ago, on October 25, 1965, God called PaPa Home. He had gone outside to check on some work a neighbor was doing for him, work he would much rather have done himself. In a fitting end to his earthly life, he died in his garden. I can still hear my mother’s anguished cry, “No, not Daddy!,” when she received the phone call telling her of his passing.

Abiding Love

Although our relationship was brief in terms of time, and nearly six decades have passed since we last shared an apple, PaPa’s love impacts me to this day. Years after his death, the large corporation I worked for sent me to a training course, one of many I attended during my career. But that one, a self-awareness workshop, was different. A team of psychologists facilitated it, and it was intense. One of our first exercises involved closing our eyes and imagining a safe place. I immediately envisioned myself in my grandfather’s lap, sharing an apple with him. The physical nourishment we’d partaken of paled when compared to the bonds of unconditional love and acceptance formed during our time together.

A Promised Reunion

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

Until then, I’ll remain thankful for little rituals 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! Please help us to be resolute in telling those coming along behind us about Your great love and faithfulness that they too may know the joy of belonging to Your family.

Abiding Love

October 25, 2021 / Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

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

Do They Remember?

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Remember

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

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

Photographs and Memories

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

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

Legacy of Faith

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

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

Cloud of Witnesses

The Father’s Love

What a glorious assurance!

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

Love That Will Not Let Me Go

June 20, 2021August 14, 2021 / Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

I was planning to write another in my series of reflections inspired by Mom’s hospitalization and Homegoing, but a Facebook memory popped up yesterday and sent my thoughts meandering down a different pathway. The post reminded me I met my late husband 40 years ago, on June 19, 1981.

The Backstory

Some of you are already familiar with the story behind how Ray and I met since I like to share it every year on the anniversary of our first encounter. But I’ll gladly retell it here for those of you who are more recent friends and readers.

Ray and I attended a church-sponsored singles group on that warm June evening, both for the first time. Food-fueled fellowship followed the Bible study lesson. As I willed my introverted self to mingle, my gaze kept returning to the handsome young man also making his way around the room. I watched Ray interact with others, noting that he seemed like a nice guy who genuinely listened to people he engaged in conversation.

I finally got my chance to talk to Ray and, entirely out of character, gave him one of my business cards after adding my home phone number. “Give me a call sometime.” Looking back, I credit divine inspiration for my bold gesture.

Regardless, I was mortified when I woke up the following day, thinking, “I gave a total stranger my business card, with my home phone number on the back!!!” And then I said a simple prayer, “Lord, if you want something to come of it, fine. If not, that’s fine too.”

I don’t remember how much time passed, but Ray did call. The friendship we developed in the singles group blossomed into a romantic relationship that led to 13 years of marriage and two daughters. Occasionally I would tease Ray, telling him it was the best use of a business card ever.

The years were punctuated by laughter and tears, filled with love, commitment, and hard work as the bonds between us grew ever-stronger. Then, in a moment, it ended.

Love That Endures

Or did it?

Imagine my surprise when I found that business card in Ray’s Bible several weeks after he died suddenly of a heart attack. Tears of amazement mingled with sorrow when I saw he’d kept it all those years. I left it there and look at it from time to time, a sweet reminder of how the Lord brought us together on that long-ago night. And of the love that grew over the years that followed, an unconditional love that didn’t end when Ray died because it flows from the fountain of God’s love.

My reminiscences on this 40^th anniversary led me to think of others who, like Ray, loved me so well during their lifetimes that I still feel their love even though they’ve been gone many years. No surprise, my contemplation of enduring love included Mom. Though she passed away more recently, she poured so much selfless, unconditional love into me I have no doubt the bucket will remain full the rest of my life. I imagine her joining the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds me, urging me to finish strong.

A Legacy of Love

This isn’t the first time I’ve written about the wonder I feel when I ponder the power of love that transcends the grave, undimmed by the passage of time, and it most likely won’t be the last. Though I cherish tangible reminders of departed loved ones, material gifts aren’t the basis for our lasting connections. Shared experiences bolstered by loving acceptance and encouragement form the links that bind us together.

The Father’s Love

What a glorious assurance!

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

Legacy of Love

July 31, 2020 / Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

029 My maternal grandfather was born 130 years ago today. This post, in honor of his birthday, is a meditation on enduring love and includes some reflections published in previous posts.

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

Death has visited my family often in October. Three of my four grandparents, a beloved aunt, a cherished uncle – all six passed away during the tenth month of different years.

October 2017 found us bereaved once again, as son-in-law Justin’s grandfather completed his earthly sojourn. His memorial service was a celebration of a life well-lived, a race faithfully run, a servant safely Home. As Justin and his brother and cousin shared memories of their grandfather, it was clear he made a lasting, positive impact on their lives.

Though their memories won’t be as distinct or numerous, “Papa” touched the lives of the next generation as well. Great-grandson, Joshua, six at the time, comforted himself and others with truth: “He’s not sick anymore. He’s in heaven!” “In heaven, guess what? You can’t die again! Papa is there waiting for us!” And, possibly my favorite, “Papa doesn’t have to pray anymore. He can walk right up and talk to Jesus!”

Oh, the beauty and simplicity of child-like faith, the kind of faith Jesus commended (Matthew 19:13-14), the kind God tells us to pass on to our offspring (Deuteronomy 4:9). It’s apparent Papa followed that mandate, modeling a godly walk for his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

I think of my own dear Papa, called Home in October 1965, when I was six. A life-long farmer, he was short and wiry, yet mighty in his faith. According to Mom, he was present at the tiny country church, where he served as a deacon, every time the doors were open. My memories of him are few but precious – sitting on his lap eating apple slices, walking to the small general store, stopping at the post office, waving to the train conductor and counting the cars. I still feel his love over five decades later.[1]

Likewise, during my husband’s graveside service, one of the pastors told daughters Mary and Jessie, their lives would be forever blessed by having a godly father. Even though he was with us for a relatively short time, we continue to experience the impact of Ray’s unconditional love and steadfast faith some 23 years hence.

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

I’ve pondered these relationships, marveling how love can reach beyond death, undimmed by the passage of time. Though I cherish tangible reminders of departed loved ones, the lasting connections aren’t based on material gifts. They’re woven together from shared experiences undergirded by loving acceptance and encouragement. Love grounded in faith and hope is the greatest legacy any of us can bestow, far more valuable than any earthly treasures we might bequeath. It’s the legacy I most want to leave.

O Lord, your word has much to say about love. We love because You first loved us, unconditionally and sacrificially (1 John 4:10-11). May we live in such a way that our love and faith are evident, hallmarks of our relationship with You (John 13:35). Please help us to love others as You love us so that the effects linger long after You’ve called us Home, connecting one generation to another.

[1] Please see “Eating Apples (reprise)” in Archives October 2018.

Let’s All Sing

June 27, 2020June 27, 2020 / Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

If you’ve ever visited Disneyland or Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom, I bet those three words caused an image to pop into your head, accompanied by the rest of the stanza, “ . . . like the birdies do, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet.”[1] You may even be humming the tune sung by the inhabitants of the Enchanted Tiki Room, where “the birds sing words and the flowers croon”. [2]

The cheerful ditty has come to my mind repeatedly the past couple of months because of a mockingbird who’s taken up residence in my crape myrtle. The canopy of the majestic tree reaches across much of the front of my house and above the roofline, shading the windows of my bedroom and providing a proper perch for the mockingbird to serenade me. I often hear it singing soon after I awake, prompting me to think, “That bird sure sounds happy!” And then, “I can rejoice and be exceeding glad too because God has allowed me to wake up to another day.” (Psalm 118:24)

But sometimes we burrow under the covers instead, our enthusiasm stifled by the demands and uncertainties looming in the hours ahead. There have been plenty of the latter the past 3 months, right? Even so, Scripture is full of assurances:

God’s mercies never fail. They are new every morning. (Lamentations 3:21-23)
Jesus acknowledged we’d have troubles in this world, but went on to say, “Take heart. I’ve overcome the world.” (John 16:33)
If God cares for the birds who sing so sweetly, He’ll surely take care of us, His beloved children. (Matthew 10:29-31)

As I’ve navigated the challenges of the past weeks, I’ve been comforted by these and other promises in the form of lyrics from beloved hymns. Before long, I’m whistling the tune and then singing complete verses aloud. Great is Thy Faithfulness, It is Well with my Soul, What a Friend We Have in Jesus, Be Thou My Vision, and our family anthem, Amazing Grace. Such is the power of music to encourage and edify.

And to connect.

Musical Ties

My mom grew up attending a tiny Presbyterian church in rural North Carolina. Some 8 decades later, when the first few strains of a hymn familiar since childhood emanate from the piano at our current church, she smiles, leans over, and whispers, “That’s a Gulf song!” I nod and return her smile as we fondly recall the white wooden structure and the loved ones buried in its cemetery, links in our heritage of faith.

When my now-adult daughters were little, my husband Ray and I used Amazing Grace as a lullaby. Though their dad died when they were in elementary school, leaving them with few memories of their godly father, they clearly remember him singing them to sleep with that classic hymn.

When my grandchildren were born, I continued the tradition their grandfather and I began with their mother, soothing them to sleep with Amazing Grace, planting seeds of faith from their earliest days. Six-year-old granddaughter Lyla is prone to humming as she works on a craft project or tackles one of her small household chores. I believe it’s an overflow of her happy heart. Occasionally she’ll sigh, “I’ve got this song stuck in my head!”

Frequently the song on replay is a hymn. Because she and her siblings are being brought up in the training and instruction of the Lord. (Ephesians 6:4)

How wonderful to have God’s Word sewn into our hearts with threads of music, binding us to Him and to generations of fellow believers!

Let All Creation Sing

Hearing the shouts of praise and adoration as Jesus rode triumphantly into Jerusalem, the Pharisees, indignant and no doubt jealous, said, “’Teacher rebuke your disciples.’ Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.” (Luke 19:39-40)

The psalmist shares similar sentiments: “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard. Their voice goes out through all the earth and their words to the end of the world.” (Psalm 96:1-4)

Indeed creation does praise the Creator in myriad ways. Yet we who’ve been the recipients of God’s great love and mercy are best-equipped to articulate all He’s done for us. So let us sing with joyful abandon like the mockingbird outside my window, proclaiming His goodness and faithfulness, as we rejoice in the gift of each new day.

[1] “Let’s All Sing Like The Birdies Sing” was written in 1932 by a team of songwriters lead by English composer Tolchard Evans.

Back 2 the Garden

Reflections on faith and flowers, family and friends

Legacy of Faith

Teach Your Children

Faith Connections

Legacy and Longing

Abiding Love, Reprise

Thanks, Mom! (Reprise)

Eating Apples – encore

Abiding Love

Love That Will Not Let Me Go

Legacy of Love

Let’s All Sing