Grandma Ruthie
When the angels sang…
Into the dark of a cold winter night,
Came a warm and radiant light.
Into a world where wars do not cease,
Came a babe who is Prince of Peace.
Into the confusion of a human mind,
Came a Counselor, wise and kind.
Into a life full of pain and grief,
Came the Shepherd for a wand’ring sheep.
And a hardened heart by sin so racked,
Looked on the light and defenses cracked,
Amazing love broke every barrier,
As the heart bowed down to the Lord and Savior.
And the angels sang!
Who is
at the Table?
Who
sits at my table, who eats of my bread?
Is it
only “the worthy” whose hunger is fed?
Who is
handed the menu and offered the fare?
To
whom do I say, “No, you can’t sit there!”
The
table is spread with a glorious feast.
Are invitees
“the highest,” excluding “the least?”
At the
banquet in heaven, which will happen someday,
Will
my “rejects” be seated, while I’m turned away?
Things I would like to do with Bill one more time:
*ice skate
*sing a duet
*cheer him on in a race
*walk to church holding hands
*fall asleep holding hands
*ride in the car
*take him a freshly baked cookie
*crawl in bed together
*wake up together
*tell each other about our day
*discuss an issue and reach a decision
*work in the garden
*talk while he empties his pockets onto the dresser
*sit in the bathtub and talk
*sit in the double recliner
*give him a bare …whoops…bear hug
Isaiah 49:15 says that a mother might forget her child, but God cannot forget us. This is a great comfort to me, as I know how impossible it is for me to forget my children and grandchildren.
When my daughter Janelle was about 4 or 5, she was hanging out
in our bedroom while my husband and I were getting ready for the day. He and I were discussing various things, and
at one point, I said, “I just realized that I have no major projects planned
for the month of January.” In addition
to routine events on my calendar, I normally had something I planned to work on
each month, and it would be written at the top of the calendar page. As soon as I finished saying there was
nothing major planned, a sweet little voice said in a sad tone, “January 6th?” That was her birthday, and she apparently
feared I was forgetting it. In fact, it
was written in red on my calendar.
Although I never forgot any of my children’s birthdays, a
friend has shared with me, that the year he turned 13, no one in his family
remembered. No one said anything all
day, but he was sure it would be remembered at suppertime. He expected a cake and a present. But, there was no recognition of the special
day. After supper, he went to his room
and cried. How hurtful it must have been
to be forgotten by those closest to him.
This summer my youngest granddaughter (age 5) gave me a map
and guided me on a treasure hunt. She
had placed a snack-sized plastic bag filled with sparkly items in a special spot
for me to find. After I found the
treasure, she said, “I want you to put the map on the refrigerator, so you will
never forget me.”
Oh…my heart! How could
I ever forget you, you precious little doll!
Amazing that the God of the universe remembers each of us
individually. He knows the number of the
hairs on our heads (Luke 12:7). That is something I don’t know about the people
I love!
I expect to spend a couple of days this week in a hurricane
shelter. God will know where I am. He has a plan for my life. He will not forget me.
Today in the shower, I was not singing. I was talking to the Lord about how grieved I am at the loss of my voice. Essential tremor first robbed me of my singing voice, and it is now working on my speaking voice. I am actually looking forward to dying, because when I get to heaven, I am going to be able to sing again.
I listed off for the Lord (as
though He didn’t already know) all the places I have sung.
Church services (no idea how many
different locations)
Funerals (from a big church
balcony, to a cappella at a grave site and places in between)
Weddings (not sure of number, but
in at least 3 states)
Band stands
Dinner meetings
Street corners (almost got
arrested)
Prisons
Nursing homes
Mental hospital
Chicago Public Television
World Flower & Garden Show at
McCormick Place
Nursing school graduation
Walking home from college
Rocking my babies
Silly songs for kids and
grandkids
Working around the house—cleaning
bathrooms, vacuuming, folding laundry, painting
Driving in the car
Campfires
Christmas caroling every chance I
could get
Besides solos, I sang in duets, trios, quartets, ensembles,
little choirs and big choirs.
I sang a cappella, or accompanied by taped music, piano, organ,
guitar or violin.
When I sang, I felt as though there was a direct connection
between my heart and my voice. My
sincerest and deepest feelings could come flying out of my mouth. I want to be able to praise God in that way
again. Now I stand in church during
congregational singing trying my best to produce the sound I can hear in my
mind. Once in a rare while a couple of
the old notes will come out. Mostly I quaver
and croak…and sometimes, I cry.
Trees bend before your breath,
Water surges on the shores,
Sheets of rain pour from above,
The wind ferocious roars.
Nature wreaks its havoc,
On structures built by man,
Collapsing as it wishes,
Defying human plan.
Some bow before you trembling,
Others in defiance stand,
But it matters not to you, who are
Both horrible and grand.
Our love was held in a priceless artifact,
Exquisitely and skillfully formed.
It was so full that it spilled out.
We wished we could bottle it and give it away
To those who didn’t seem to have enough.
When the hand of death snatched you away,
It was not the beautiful pitcher that broke.
It was my heart that shattered.
Countless pieces, sharp shards,
Piercing me at every moment and movement.
Can the broken be mended and restored?
Artisans reassemble broken pottery,
Filling the cracks with liquid gold.
The damaged piece leaves their hands
Stronger and more beautiful than before.
Will the divine potter, master craftsman,
Reassemble my heart, remake me?
Can I emerge stronger and more beautiful?
More conformed to the image of His Son?
Can my heart be mended with gold?
A vlog of the same title can be found on youtube: @ruthchapin8805
