Sometimes I think about Mother at the oddest times–like when I’m in the kitchen and reach for a box of raisins. Just for a moment, I can remember the taste of raisins from Mother’s kitchen. She added them to the Christmas fruit salad, sprinkled them into her homemade cinnamon rolls, and baked them in pies. Her brother’s favorite pie was raisin cream and Mother made a great one. Raisins were folded into vanilla cream custard under a golden-peaked meringue.

When I was growing up, Mother did a lot of preserving. There was always a garden and she canned and froze the harvest.  It was a hot and hard work outside and inside. I learned how to can from Mother and once did quite a bit of it myself. I still do a little. It’s a way of visiting with my mother and grandmother in my kitchen, and I like the reward of seeing hours of labor packed away in jars or boxes for the freezer to be enjoyed later and maybe even shared with a friend or two. There are some things you just can’t buy in a store that taste like a home product. I suppose I take pleasure in preserving for the same reason I like baking: I enjoy the process as much as the end result.

I had six years of home economics, grades seven through twelve. I still have some of the recipes from the later years, one a recipe for stuffed pork chops. The recipe came from a Meta Given cookbook that our teacher particularly liked. If I remember correctly, we used that recipe when the senior class of home economics (more commonly known today as family and consumer sciences or home science) prepared a complete meal for the senior agriculture class. The dinner was somewhat like a final exam for us. We were required to make a notebook about the meal beginning with the menu and ending with a self-evaluation of our work. I kept that pictorial notebook until just a few years ago when I had a major cleaning out of the attic. The pork chop recipe, however, remains in my active recipe file as an established family favorite for holidays.

I suppose it is an age thing (I’m in my seventies now), but I do quite a bit of reminiscing and it’s not all about cooking. I like thinking of times when our country was safer and childhoods less complicated. I like thinking about a day when our roles in life were clearly defined and we came and went feeling safe and not at risk. I like remembering simple pleasures, respect for authority, and expectation and reward for hard work. I’m sure I didn’t know it then, but those gentler, more practical days were the very best of days and somehow they passed by without our realizing we were losing them.

Memories of family and yesterday’s values seem most vivid when I am stirring around in my kitchen. As I create or recreate through cooking, baking, and preserving, I give thanks for those days that gave my life its underpinning. I give thanks for my home and my heritage. And with a satisfied smile, I give thanks for the memories.

Family Treasures: Mother’s pitcher for whipping cream for strawberry shortcake and her crock for saving bacon grease on either side of my grandmother’s buttermilk pitcher.

On Thursdays, I tutor second grade girls in reading. The school where I tutor is an arm of our church and Bible is part of the curriculum. The time I spend with the girls allows for some chit-chat where I can get to know them better, and I admit this is my favorite part. I enjoy getting to know their different personalities and interests.

One day as Lauren and I talked about her favorite things, I asked for her favorite story in the Bible. She quickly responded that it was Ruth.  I asked her to tell me the story and she gave one of the best detailed accounts I’ve ever heard. Any Bible teacher would be proud. I asked Lauren where she had learned so much about Ruth and she said from Mrs. Cleek (her classroom teacher).

I have worked with Mrs. Cleek for three years. It is a joy to watch her involve her students in learning. She approaches all of it with enthusiasm, bringing about their anticipation of a wonderful adventure. I saw the results of all this in Lauren. She had not only been complete in her recall of the Bible story, but had told it with such excitement.

I wondered why it was the story of Ruth that had captured Lauren’s heart so. I thought over what I knew about Lauren personally and realized there were certain parallels in this little girl’s life with that of Ruth. Like Ruth, Lauren put others before herself. She was respectful, kind, always looking out for others.  It was no surprise when at the end of the school year, Lauren’s classmates voted her “Most Christ-like.” I believe Lauren had been drawn to Ruth because she found in her a kindred spirit. And she saw the reward of such behavior because Mrs. Cleek had pointed out what a happy ending the story had.

Most of us have an opportunity at some time in our life to teach a child a character-building Bible story. We can bring forth a Ruth, Hannah, Daniel or David with enthusiasm and help a child to see someone to emulate, possibly someone they already share budding likeness to, and we can make sure they know the rewarding outcome of the stories we tell. We need to make them come alive and so attractive to little ones that they cherish them in their hearts as ways to live. Proverb 22:6 says “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it. (KJV)”

During my years as a patient advocate, I learned a lot about people.   Patients and their families were some of my greatest life teachers.  One of the first things I learned in my days of advocacy was that the term “difficult people” would be more aptly labeled “difficult situations.”  When people are caught in a complex situation, they can appear difficult.  To resolve a problem, you must first understand the situation.

A nurse on one of the neurology floors asked to meet with me about the husband of a patient.  They told me he was writing down things in a little book he carried in his shirt pocket.  In fact, he would sometimes go to where their names were listed on a board and copy them into his little book.  He never spoke a word to anyone and never smiled, just watched.  This had been going on for a couple of days and they found it unnerving and somewhat threatening.  His wife didn’t seem unhappy with her care in any way, so what was going on?  Would I visit with them and see if they might tell me of any problems?

I paid Mr. and Mrs. Pitman a visit.  I introduced myself and what I did for the hospital, and asked how things were going for them.  Just as the nurses had reported, the patient was quiet and seemingly satisfied.  I’m not sure she said a word, just smiled and nodded her head at me.  Her husband looked as grumpy as they had reported and seemed a bit cautious.  I visited for a while, giving him information about the hospital.  He didn’t have much to say other than to ask me my name and then write it in his little book.  I gave him my business card and asked that he call me if either of them needed anything at all.  Not a thing in the visit gave me a single clue.

The next day I met Mr. Pitman coming through the lobby of the hospital.  He was coming from the direction of my office so I asked if he had maybe been around to see me, and if there was there anything I could help him with.  He told me he had actually been to the barber shop to get a haircut, so I complimented him on it, and then asked about his wife.  He told me she was feeling much better.  Then he hesitated for a moment, looked at me and said this:  “I am a farmer and not used to big hospitals like this.  My wife called me a few days ago to come in and stay with her.  I have a lot to do right now and hadn’t planned to come until the weekend, but she was pretty persistent, so I came on in.  I don’t know why she wanted me here as everything is fine.  In fact, if I had any money, I would give it to those nurses who take care of my wife.  They are absolutely wonderful.  I’ve been writing their names down just so we can remember them.” 

I thanked Mr. Pitman for his kind comments and told him I would be sure and let the nurses know how he felt about them.  I felt pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to do that.  This was a phone call I loved making.  “By the way,” I said to the nurse who answered the phone.  “Mr. Pitman just got a haircut in our barbershop; you might mention how nice it looks and see if that will open up some conversation.”

Mr. Pitman’s face (like mine) appeared rather stern without a smile.  Add it up:  Mr. Pitman’s harsh appearance plus no verbal communication plus continuous note-taking equals a nursing staff convinced he was very unhappy about his wife’s care and preparing to pounce.   But that wasn’t the case; he was a very gracious man in a strange environment, at an inconvenient time, thrust into the middle of people he didn’t know.  He was not a difficult person – just caught in a difficult situation. 

We are by nature, programmed to fear what we don’t understand.  This was the case on both sides:  patient’s husband and nursing staff.  In the case of Mr. Pitman, we did get to know the truth – got to understand.  That made it better for everyone.  When that doesn’t happen, it helps to remember these words from noted psychiatrist, Dr. Gerald Jampolsky:

We do not see people as a whole.  We see just a fragment of a person, and our mind often interprets what we see as a fault.  Evaluating and being evaluated by others, a habit from the past, result at worst in fear and at best in conditional love.*       

*From Love is Letting Go of Fear by Gerald G. Jampolsky, M.D.

The minute I walked into the sanctuary, I knew something was different.  The presence of the Holy Spirit was there, warm and embracing.   The expression on the faces of people I did not know was that of joy and expectation.  Everyone was focused in worship and I was immediately pulled into worship with them.  I had no idea that church was to become my church, those people my church family; I was simply visiting a new house of worship in our area. 

I continued to visit from time to time, and always, it was the same.  People were welcoming and friendly, but never grasping.  The music was worshipful; the pastor’s messages inspired.   The services had a great deal of spontaneity and I especially loved the open altar for prayer.  Sometimes the pastor would open the altar at the beginning of service, sometimes at midpoint, and often, at the close.  I watched families go to the altar together, parents gathering their children from youth groups along the way down the aisle.   I was mesmerized by a way of worship I had never experienced – and loving it. 

One morning I was a little late and when I went through the sanctuary doors of First Assembly Memphis, the open altar for prayer was already in progress.  I walked straight from the back of the church to the front and bowed in worship with these people I did not know but admired tremendously.  I loved how they worshiped, how open they were with their need for God and to be prayed over.  I could hardly wait to get there each Sunday morning to be engulfed by this reverence and desiring of God.     

For a year, I attended two church services every Sunday morning with no intention of moving my church membership.  But I realized I was getting at First Assembly the very thing I had been praying about for quite a while:  a greater knowledge of the third part of the Triune God, the Holy Spirit.  I was finding that at First Assembly, and I was rushing there each Sunday morning to receive it – and receive Him.   The experience of growing close to the Holy Spirit was tender and deep; I wept every Sunday for a year from His loving embrace.  It was as if I had found my way home after long years of wandering. 

I was hungry for all I could get spiritually, and knew the best way to obtain it was to become totally involved through church membership.  It was one of the best decisions of my life.  These Holy Spirit-filled people immediately opened up their circle to me and made me family.   

It has been a little over three years since I became a part of the First Assembly Memphis family, and I have been prayed over and supported through one family crisis after another.  I dare say I have never in my entire life had as many fervent and ongoing prayers said over me and my family as in the short time I have been at First Assembly.  I cannot imagine how I would have made it through these past three years, the toughest years of my life, without them.  They have loved me and taught me and nurtured me.  They have prayed for me and with me time after time after time.  They have walked me through “what to do next” when my husband died and took care of my every need during those days. They have extended their reach to my very ill daughter and failing-in-health mother. 

What I experienced that first Sunday morning is what the entire church is about:  living joyfully and confidently in the Spirit of the Lord.  I am so grateful the Holy Spirit heard and answered my prayer.  I am so grateful for His presence in a sanctuary, a presence that wooed me to a closer walk with Him.

Say to those who are fearful-hearted, “Be strong, do not fear!  Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God; He will come and save you.”  Isaiah 35:4

I have recently watched a friend’s salvation.  Not salvation of his soul; he already had that.  I have watched him saved from hopelessness, saved from the sense that life was over for him in every good way.  

God tells us in Jeremiah 29:11 that He has a plan for us, a plan for good and not for evil, that we may have a future and a hope.  He tells how our life has His design’s imprint before we are born (See Jeremiah 1:4-5 and Psalm 139:16).  Things happen just as they are written.  We can be assured that as God has ordained, His purpose will be disclosed.

Without revealing the confidentiality of my friend’s reasons for despair, let me just say that he had been pushed down emotionally for a number of years.  He had been made to feel he didn’t count, that he was somewhat in the way.  He pressed through each day without joy or expectation of meaningful life ever again.  He was waiting to die.  But recently his heart was stirred in an unexpected way.  As he says, “Never could I have imagined this; I can’t dream this good.”  And with that divine intervention in his life, he began to regain his self-confidence.  He began to see himself through God’s eyes.  He began to reach for those things he had thought he could no longer do.  He reached – and he caught hold.  Now he is living out exactly what God had planned for him before he ever took a breath.  His life is filling up with success after success, joy after joy. 

It doesn’t matter our story of disappointment and heartache as much as it matters that we believe our God saves.  When we can grab hold of the belief that God cares for us and stands true to His word to never forsake us (Hebrews 13:5), mighty happenings will occur.  Things will fall into place that we never envisioned for ourselves.  Things will be added to our lives that show they are straight from the hand of Almighty God.  We will stand back and take a hard look and say:  it is true that my God will come and settle the scores and make up for my loss; He will save me from hopelessness and despair. 

 Don’t give up, whatever your situation, for His plan for your life hasn’t gone away.  It may be in a holding pattern, but God has not stopped loving you.  He hasn’t forgotten where you are or what you need.  You are His child, and because of that, you have the right to expect the unexpected.   Someday these words will be yours:  “No longer shall you be termed Desolate . . . for the Lord delights in you.”  Isaiah 64:4

And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Counselor to be with you forever, the Spirit of truth.  John 14:16

When the Counselor comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father, He will testify about me.  John 15:26

But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all truth.  He will not speak on His own; He will speak only what He hears, and He will tell you what is yet to come.  John 16:13

Jesus came and took our sin and died under its curse that we might live.  He gave us a gift no one else could give, a gift that meant eternal salvation and not eternal damnation.  He loved us in a way far too incredible to ever comprehend this side of heaven.  But even with all that, Jesus gave more.  He saw to it that we would never have to go it alone.  We would not have to rely solely on the written word, but have a living Presence to guide, teach, protect, and speak to us. 

Can we drink that in just a minute?  Can we wrap our minds around this?  Believers in Christ, we were given more than the gift of salvation; we got a bonus!  We have the living Spirit of God indwelling us, helping with our every need 24/7.  The Father sent His Son to free us, but don’t you know He smiled when Jesus asked Him to give us even more? 

Before Jesus’ time, the Holy Spirit came and went as God directed.  But there is no more occasional presence for those of us who believe.  We have the constant, abiding presence of the Holy Spirit.  I think this calls for some shouts of hallelujah and songs of praise! 

We thank you, precious Lord, for the bonus gift.  We thank you for the Spirit of truth that the Father gave, because you asked.  Thank you, Jesus.  We love you.