Faith that is commended-

Sure faith

Hope unseen

A universe commanded

A better sacrifice

Faith that speaks beyond death-

Pleased God and taken away

Unreceived promises

Faith that pleases God and rewards those who seek Him-

Holy fear that yields an ark

Families saved

World condemned

Faith that builds future cities-

Inherited place

Promised land for a stranger

Wandering desert

Faith that longs for a better way-

Barren, yet childbearing

Descendents like stars

Aliens in foreign lands

Baby hidden in the water

Prostitutes redeemed

Faith that is tested-

Sacrificed child

Promised offspring

Mistreated people

Faith that conquers kingdoms-

Walls fallen

Seas divided

Spies welcomed

Faith that is fearless-

Lions mouths closed

Flames quenched

Prisoners jeered, flogged and chained

Faith that brings a better resurrection-

Exodus

Weakness becoming strength

Disgrace greater than treasures

Faith that makes perfect

*Hebrews 11

Why is it so hard to get rid of things?  It could be anything—from a kitchen utensil that we’ve bought a replacement for, but we just might need a second one sometime…to a church bulletin from 1993 from the church I grew up in. I have boxes of church bulletins and cards and mementos from vacations and well-intended scrapbook plans. I have plenty of stuff that needs to be thrown away that I just can’t bring myself to throw away. I’ll try to throw it away and then think, but this was the first…, or this was the only…, or Aw, this reminds me of…

My mom recently gave me all of my birthday cards from like the first 5 years of my life.  She says because she thought I would like to see them, but it’s really because she doesn’t know how to get rid of them either!  So, I looked through them and noticed that my grandparents were always apologizing for being late.  I didn’t know that about them.  Then, I noticed that there were cards from other relatives who have already passed away and I appreciated that I could look at their handwriting.

I think I’m afraid that if I just throw them all away, I’ll be throwing my grandparents away too, along with all of my memories of them.  Is there a way to remember without hanging on too long?  Is there a way to remember and move on? Do I need to keep everything anyone ever gives me to honor that person?

Take the chair as another example.  A friend gave it to me when I moved into an apartment by myself and didn’t have any furniture.  It’s missing a leg and needs to be cleaned.  It’s a neutral color, but it’s really not anything to look at. I love this chair!  I love it because it reminds me of my friend.  It reminds me of a time when I didn’t really have much, but I was still able to create a home in which to bless people. I look at it and remember how it felt to move into my own place and to sit in a my own living room reading in the solitude. I like the way it feels when I sink into it with a good book.

The chair has been crammed into our guest room for almost two years now because I like the idea of a bedroom having a chair and because I don’t want to get rid of it, but it never really fit and I don’t think anyone really used it. Right now the chair is on its side in the middle of our living room while I try to decide what to do with it.  We’ll probably give it away, but we could keep it and use it upstairs when we finish remodeling until we can afford something we like.  We could cram it into another room and not use it for another two years.  There’s one voice saying, if we give it away, what will become of it? And another voice saying, why do I care? It’s just a chair.

My only living grandparent–Momaw–turned 90 this year.  We celebrated with a surprise party given by her children and grandchildren, but how do you rightfully appreciate 90 years of living?  I can’t even imagine all that she has seen in 90 years.   The wars, the economic changes, the social changes, the family dynamic changes.  I can, however, imagine the chicken n’ dumplin’s she used to make and the homemade ice cream–the kind where everyone in the family has to pitch in and turn until each person’s arm hurts and you’re forced to pass it to the next person, but it’s sooooo good.  I can also imagine the parties we used to have–just me and Momaw–on the couch in front of the TV with whatever we could find to munch on and always a little Mountain Dew.  And the words of encouragement about how God is always faithful.  And the short walks to church on that little county road–Route 2, I think it was called.  And the Easter eggs hidden in the yard around their house for me to find.  When I think of Momaw I think of all the yummy meals, but also the companionship that she has provided for so many.  I’ve never heard anyone say anything negative about her.  When you meet her, you can’t help but love her.  Even now, it feels like she is trying to take care of you, by giving you whatever is in her kitchen that someone else has made to take home with you, or by giving you peppermints or Werther’s, or by wanting you to take a nap on her couch because you are tired while she puts a blanket over you.  I realize now that making a meal for someone isn’t about the perfect ingredients or cooking style.  It’s about taking advantage of a moment while someone is in your home to love.  Momaw helped teach me that in the way that she loves people.

Our suffering is, but will not always be.

We get frustrated so easily with our bondage and decay.

We groan.

Inwardly. Outwardly.

We feel pain.

The present is only now.

For a long period,

They groaned.

Groaned.

In their slavery,

They cried for help—

To the One who could help them.

For a long period,

He was silent.

Then,

He heard them.

He was concerned about them.

He

delivered them.

Now, they are free!

No longer enslaved!

No longer groaning!

For us, too, there is

A different glory.

A better glory.

Unimagined.

Hope that is seen is no hope at all.

Eager expectation.

Liberation.

Adoption.

Redemption.

For in this hope,

We are saved.

He

will deliver us.

*Exodus 2:23-25 and Romans 8: 18-27.