They’re finishing their dinner. We’re lingering over our
breakfast coffee.
Just like that, we can see our Brisbane family in their new
abode, and they can see us in our old one. Praise the Lord for technology. For
all the connections we take for granted. For all the connections that are continued
and enabled because of it.
Several years ago, we went through Ellis Island, the
immigration center into the USA. Done up as a fascinating, interactive museum
now, we listened into imaginary conversations between families at train
stations and on docks in Europe, conversations reflecting the finality of
emigration in the not-so-distant past. Families really did head off into the
unknown, leaving behind loved ones forever.
As I plow through the generations of my family tree, I am
impressed by the courage of so many of them. Courage I have to imagine, as
there are no written records of their feelings or even who exactly they were,
but seeing, for instance, some distant grandparents whose lives started in the
American colonies and ended after the Revolutionary War. Some died in Nova
Scotia, Canada, so I imagine they were supporting the Brits. Some applied for
Revolutionary War pensions, so I imagine they were supporting the Patriots, the
emerging Americans. All lived in turbulent times, where their perception was
limited, their knowledge and information came from travellers who landed in
their towns. Where they were pioneers in unknown territories and with limited
vision.
I laughed to see that not one, not two, but three
generations of distant grandmothers were named ‘Thankful’, nicknamed ‘Thanks’.
I love that. I hope that they were able to live up to the challenge of their
names, and I hope that I have inherited the gratitude gene. I’m going to work
on it.
Gratitude is what enables joy. I love the description of
Jesus who, ‘for the joy set before him, did not despise the cross’. His vision
focused on the beyond, and he did not let the approaching agony of crucifixion
to distract him from the joy of reunion with the Father in heaven, having
completed his mission successfully.
The technology of connection with his Father in heaven was straightforward
and didn’t depend on fibre-optics or satellite dishes. He went out to the hills
and prayed. Or he worked on the carpenter’s bench and prayed. Or he got into
bed at night and prayed.
First of the year admin demands cloud my mind. Things to
sort out for Mom. US tax information to gather and give to the accountant
(bless him). The on-going de-cluttering. I want to see beyond those clouds to
the clear blue sky of eternity, and the joy of reunions in a place where there
are no airports.
In the meantime, I am thankful for technology, and I am thankful
for prayer. Gifts from above.
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