Till We Meet Again

The memorial service at the Church held in honor of our dear brother-in-law, Harry, was a bitter sweet reminder once more of the brevity of life and the hope we have. It was an old fashioned service interwoven with the vitality of young grandchildren giving a last tribute or recital on the piano, a thoughtfully written email sent from abroad to be read to the family and a life story told while scanned images gave glimpses of those stages of life on the screen. Music and messages, in German as well as in English lifted our souls to look on Him who gave and will give again.



Not having heard a German message for a very long time, I was intrigued by the beauty of the language and how the truth I know in my head, sounded in my heart language. It was said that when Harry was asked what scripture he would want read at his memorial - without skipping a beat he had quoted Romans 8:1, "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." The legacy he left for his family was one of assurance in his destiny.

After the service we all stepped into our vehicles and joined the long line-up of almost bumper to bumper cars, hazard lights flashing, to follow the hearse to the cemetery.

 

 

It is a feeling hard to describe . . . the one of sitting in one of these cars, united in a procession to escort the family as they usher their beloved's body to his final resting place. Other drivers can pass on by or wait impatiently . . . but the motorcade is intact, headed through town together.


We followed along the long drive into the cemetery
 

and eventually parked snug behind each other.

Getting out of our vehicles, we gathered to find the spot prepared . . .
 

The pallbearers, brought out the coffin and set it down on top of the place
where it would be lowered into the ground.
A heart-quickening silent moment of truth for young and old.

 Meanwhile, we as family and friends gathered around in unanimous support
of the ones closest and dearest to him on this earth.

The pastor once more reminded us that this is not the end of the story
 as he spoke of a day when the Lord Jesus returns
and the dead in Christ will arise to be forever with Him.
 

 

Yes... this is the hope we profess, based on the prophecy . . . that . . .

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new! Then he said, "Write this down, for there words are trustworthy and true." Revelation 21 : 3 - 5

Different Perspectives

 

 

I do not know where this originates . . .

It seems to be floating around cyberspace these days

and was sent to my H's phone by someone who knows

how he likes to toss kids in the air just like this.  

Saturday Morning Out

Last week I had to brush up on my hand kneading skill as I prepared to
demonstrate the making of a sweet bread wreath . . .
 

this is a yeast dough, rolled out and filled with yummy
 fruit, nuts and brown sugar . . .
a family favorite.

It was a while back when the invitation came . . . .
 to share our story and do a cooking demonstration.
Four of us were able to make it to this venue.
Without too much thought I knew exactly what I'd like to share . . .
 we all do our part in this group . . .
it was my turn.

The ladies at the church were strangers for only a second
as they made us feel very welcome.
On stage they had set up one table displaying vintage kitchen ware . . .
and another table where I was happy to share how to make that wreath.
Two screens were ready to go for the powerpoint Lovella had prepared.
 

The brunch consisted of a beautiful array of muffins, jam, cheese, sausage,
croissants, oranges . . . and lots of happy chatter.
I wish I'd taken a photo.
 

Slivers of the wreath were also passed around for those who wished to taste.
(I had brought extras from home)



If you have been to a church womens' brunch . . . you will know that door prizes are always a fun addition. It was a treat to see the reaction of a dear lady at our table win a cookbook!
Her daughter and daughter-in-law were there with her,
 one of whom I assume had purchased one earlier.

 

 We came away feeling so blessed to be able to play a small part
 once more in the lives of women just like us.
 If this were about us it would be a sad story . . .
but we are thankful that it is not.
Just as salt is important in baking bread, it is God who continues to work
 in us and through us.
There is a verse in Matthew 5 that says ...
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men."

Our prayer is that as Christians we would be the salt that brings out good flavor
and be a pleasing aroma of Christ . . . the main ingredient.
 

Simple Pleasures

For me . . .  simple pleasures are the random photos coming in on my iphone

For her . . . it's discovering the ability to hold something in her hand

tasting so much better than teethers and rattles.

More on Gift Ideas

While on the subject of hand made gifts, I was looking for a card and came across these beautiful cards Monika (my sister) made for me.

Along with always making a special card for me for my Birthday,
this past summer she gave me a package of cards with envelopes, ready to use!
Cards for different occasions ...
so nice to have on hand!
 

Gifts of Time

With the season of giving coming upon us I thought I'd do a post on some special gifts I have received from my daughters, each using their own unique gift.

Julene, who loves to draw, gave me this framed print a few years ago when they were still living in Indonesia. I've had it on my nighttable and dreamed with her about their coming home to never say goodbye again. Although her thoughs in reality describe a spiritual realm . . . I feel like I've had a taste of it already now.

Kristal, who has inherited some of my love for cooking, put together this cute cookbook for me . . .

this was slightly before Mennonite Girls Can Cook came about.

and I'm glad she did not know what was coming... because I may not have received my very own little recipe book like this.

Kari is our seamstress and she made me this beautiful apron . . . also before the one that everyone recognizes came about.

I love the detail, the colors and the fact that she made it just for me.

Each of these gifts tell a story of time spent in thoughtful preparation . . .
for someone who can't help but feel loved as a result.
They are gifts that call one to consider . . .
is there something I can create that reflects something about the one who is the receiving the gift?

Some of us are not talented in making something, but maybe we can give the gift of time in other ways. There is something special about the story behind the gift . . . sometimes it can make us laugh and sometimes it can make us cry . .  . in a good way.
 

A Paper Smile Box

I've had the joy of being on the receiving end of smile boxes Kari sends to my inbox . . . little slide shows of a special memory put to music . . . a beautiful way to connect with our Prairie girls.



Because I'm still somewhat technically challenged I tend to think of
old fashioned ways to do things.
 

I only wish I could add the music.

It's a plain paper cardboard booklet that one can pick up at an arts & craft store . . .

add some special photo memories . . .

and some embelishments.

Words are not really needed.

This book is a collection of things she did at our house before they moved . . .

it's a picture book that little ones can easily access . . .

A paper smile box.
I think it's time to do another one.
 

Brothers

During one of their finer moments, I was inspired to take this photo
and had to think of the verse,
"Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity." Psalm 133:1
 

Landon is learning to do workbooks.
He loves it when someone tells him what to do and
is excited to find out he can do something new.

Meanwhile, Koey just grabs a book and announces that he is drawing bunnies!
 

I asked him once if I could read to him and he said, "No, Koey, read!"
So, it's not really surprising that he makes himself comfy like this all on his own . . .
 (not until after I had taken the picture did I notice the title)
 

and Landon is happy he has me to himself to read to.