Ring a Ding Ding

The telephone rang about an hour after we returned from my friend’s house where Mom, Mhairi and I had enjoyed coffee and a chat. 

“Have you lost a ring?”

My mother looked at her hand and gasped. Her sapphire ring given to her by Dad several years ago was not on her finger. She’d not noticed it missing until then.

Within an hour, my friend’s husband was at the door, beautiful ring in hand. The hero of the hour. He’d returned from a game of golf and seen the ring lying on the hall rug. 

No doubt it had slipped from her finger as she removed coat or gloves, her fingers smaller in this cold than they are in the heat of Long Beach. 

It could just as easily have slipped off in a restaurant yesterday, or at the wedding venue last week, and been lost to her for good.

Mom and I remembered a few years ago when the diamond slipped out of its setting in my engagement ring while I was visiting her. We had prayed about it and started scouring the house for the stone. Within minutes I saw it lying on the kitchen floor, precariously close to the gap under the fridge door. 

Sometimes we consciously enlist God’s help in finding lost items. Other times he rides point on our lives, putting right things that have gone wrong before we even realize it.

This time, he spared Mom from the anxiety and upset of thinking she’d lost such a precious item of jewellery. 

Jesus told stories about lost things – a sheep, a coin, and a son. In each of these stories, the hero of the hour is God himself, who leaves no stone unturned in seeking to find and save that which is lost. His love drives him on to save what is lost at incredible cost to himself.

I am so grateful, and as we head towards our celebration of Thanksgiving tomorrow (a few days early), one of the autumn leaves on our Thanksgiving tree will no doubt be giving thanks to God for finding what was lost.

Heaven

Dusty had a foretaste of heaven last weekend, when she bunked in with the rest of us at Kindrochet Lodge on the Atholl Estate. 

First and foremost, all of her favourite people were there. 

Next, within a few feet of the front door were bushes under which burrowed many rabbits. At the bottom of the garden, a burn bubbled past, with sticks strewn round its banks just waiting for me to toss them in to her. 

Round the back of the Lodge were some free-roaming sheep. That required a bit of input from me, but once she’d accepted the stern admonition that these four legged balls of wool were not there for her amusement nor to be rounded up, she got on with the serious business of sniffing every inch of the pasture.

The day of the wedding wasn’t so much to her taste, of course, as she was abandoned for nearly 12 hours as we all celebrated in style. But she managed with walks on either side of the lengthy span of time, and has returned home unscathed.

We also enjoyed a foretaste of heaven last weekend, and that foretaste also centred round relationships with our favourite people. Not all of them could be there, but there were a goodly number who were, and we enjoyed conversations, hugs and kisses with them all.

Knowing how wonderful heaven will be, makes the journey through life less fearful and the approach to new life more inviting.

To God be the Glory

Blessing upon Blessing

We awoke today to a smattering of snow on the ground, and the sun shining brightly in a blue sky.

Perfect winter weather – roads and sky clear, freezing temps but no wind. Perfect timing for us, as the wedding day last Saturday was mild and dry. 

The wedding day. So many loved ones, friends, new friends, gathered to witness and celebrate the marriage of two wonderful young people. To see our three boys standing together at the front of the Cathedral, resplendent in their kilts, laughing together, and then, just as the bridesmaids appeared at the door of the church, to see Jamie put his arm around Robbie’s shoulder and the two of them bow their heads together in prayer. Words are inadequate for a mother’s grateful heart. 

To sit beside my 89 year old mother, full of anticipation and energy, excited to participate in this third wedding of a third grandson in as many years. To listen to our beautiful daughter as she read the lesson from Ephesians, strong and clear though full of emotion. Words fail me.

To clutch the hand of my dear husband, such a man of integrity and love, generosity and kindness, and blink back tears of thankfulness as I remember the 38 years since we stood at the front of a church and took vows. I catch my breath as I praise the God who brought us together.

To turn round and see friends of many years’ standing, who drove for two hours and incurred expenses in order to support us in our hour of joy. My heart swells with joy and gratitude.

To listen to the words of the pastor spoken so eloquently and personally to this young couple as they embark on the journey of the rest of their lives together, as he prophetically encouraged them to continue waiting on the Lord for the next step. The Lord, who has been so faithful in his pasturing of this young couple. 

Words are inadequate. To God be the glory.

Anticipation

Every time I awoke during the night, I prayed for my mom and my daughter Mhairi, knowing they were somewhere 35,000 miles above the earth headed this way.

I just checked Heathrow Arrivals and they are just about to land there. The prayers continue, as I think about the ordeal ahead getting an 89-year-old exhausted Gramma from Terminal 3 to Terminal 5. And as I think of her loving granddaughter fighting her corner, finding a wheelchair and its requisite pusher, getting her to the next point of departure, buying her a nice coffee, rubbing her arm lovingly. Praise God for such an amazing daughter / granddaughter. I know I do.

So my anticipation mounts as I continue to work in the kitchen, preparing food for tonight and the weekend of festivities to come. It isn’t work but a pleasure, knowing that only a few short hours separate us from another blessed family reunion. 

After all the weeks of preparation, we are nearly there, ready to celebrate this new beginning for Robbie and Emma. And I am so happy ... fighting the tears as another of our boys gets married, the third in three years. So happy, and yet tinged with sadness that those special years have slipped past. I know, to be replaced by new special years, but still ...

Of course we’re approaching Advent, the church season in which we anticipate the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ into this dark world. It makes me think of Mary, that very special young woman who was waiting to give birth to the Saviour of the world. How excited she must have been, anticipating the birth, and yet tinged with possible apprehension about just what it would all mean.

The Bible says that after the birth, as shepherds and kings came to worship Jesus, she watched, and ‘pondered these things in her heart’.

Sometimes our feelings are just too much for words.

A Warm Welcome

So, that’s settled, then.

Spoke to the housekeeper of the big lodge we’re all renting for the wedding weekend, to arrange a time for her to meet us and show us the ropes. Instead, she gave me details of how to find the key and let ourselves in.

So much for a warm welcome, which the FAQ sheet promised. Instead, I was to be grappling in the dark for a key on a nail, hoping it would work in the lock because this housekeeper does not have a mobile phone and would be out cleaning somewhere else over dinner time. 

As I considered the possibilities of disaster with this plan, I shot off an email and got it changed, so that now she will be meeting us, having the house cosy and warm and being able to show us where everything is.

I am so relieved. 

It reminds me of Jesus’ promise that he will come and meet us, when we pass through the curtain into eternity, and take us there himself. We don’t have to fumble in the dark for the right key. He is the key. He is the door.

And I didn’t even have to email him. All I have to do is know he is my saviour and Lord, that he is, in fact, God.

Wow. I really am relieved about that.