Wisdom Knows a Thing is Just a Thing

A ring is just a thing. So are many other “things.” My close acquaintance with long term, terminal illness helps me distinguish between the value of physical things and spiritual things of the heart. I placed this wedding ring on Wyndham’s finger nearly 45 years ago. Amazingly, he never lost it through all his fishing, hunting, and sports adventures; however, recently he needed to lose it. His nurse was concerned because it was embedded in a swollen finger which she feared would become quite painful.

So, Melissa and I gathered butter, oil, dental floss, and various other YouTube “tricks of the trade” to try to slide it off. It would not budge, and the attempt to remove it was painful. Unwilling to be conquered by the stuck ring, she called a jewelry store that was located half a mile away to ask if they could help us. The owner was gracious and said he and his daughter would come to the house after he closed his shop. Around dinnertime, this man and his daughter came to the rescue with a ring cutter. At first, he did not think it would be possible but worked mightily while using his instrument to successfully cut the ring. Using pliers, he pulled it apart and slid it off Wyndham’s finger. I thought I might be sad, but instead, I was moved by this man’s graciousness. When I asked him what I owed him his reply was, “I did not come here to do business, I came because someone needed help.” I cried and gave him a big hug.

I was reminded of the beauty and grace in simple acts of kindness and determined to pay it forward. I didn’t feel sad, because the removal of the ring didn’t change anything—except the possibility of a soon-to-be-damaged finger. I remember words that Wyndham often said when something broke or was lost…” It’s just a thing.” Or, when we were met with an unexpected expense that we felt we couldn’t afford…” It’s just money.” And he meant it. A thing is just a thing. A thing has no lasting value.

Wisdom knows that physical things don’t last. Wisdom stores treasures in heaven.

 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.
  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.
  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matt 6:19-21)

This past week several golden treasures came to visit— Two Sams and two Iiames. Friendships like these are not things, but true treasures. I often lay in bed at night and think of the treasures I possess. They are all relational.  Spiritual relationships, with God and each other, are what will last. What “thing” will last other than our relationship with God and with His sons and daughters (our brothers and sisters)? Nothing can take these away. Even when our physical bodies leave, for Christians, love, and relationships are eternal. And one day, we will also have new bodies. Now, that’s something to smile about. Of course, I grieve and cry many tears for aspects of the relationship I temporarily miss, but I find when I set my heart on things eternal my mood changes.

And, Wyndham’s wedding ring has a new home on our mantel that seems a fitting place. Every time I see it I think about what lasts, as well as the kind store owner who came because someone needed help.

Wisdom Never Walks Alone

I thought it would be a simple Nana/grandson fishing adventure. (That sentence, in itself, was amazing to write because I do not like fishing, so any fishing trip for me is not simple.) However, since Caleb was staying with us overnight while his parents were out of town and his sisters were elsewhere, I thought it would be fun to go to the nearby reservoir with him so he could fish. A wooded, scenic path leads to this reservoir—a sparkling lake where fish are known to live. We walked the path to a place that looked “fishy” to us, but they weren’t biting. He offered to let me throw some casts. I did, and promptly lost his lure when it hooked something big in the water which was not a fish. Line snapped. Fishing trip over.

It was a fun time with Caleb, though I was not prepared for a flood of emotions that filled me as we first entered the entrance to the path leading to the reservoir. As I first set foot on the path my eyes instinctively filled with tears. The emotions surprised me until it hit me that the last time I walked this path was when I was walking hand in hand with Wyndham. This was an oft-walked path for us; one where we would walk and pray. We would climb out on the rocks, often bringing our dogs, first Jordan and then Denver, after Jordan was gone. We would offer them endless fun retrieving tennis balls we would throw into the water. Many prayers were said, and memories made. Thus, the welling of emotions makes sense. Caleb was kind and understanding as I explained my sadness.

Since that day last week, I have spent some time meditating on the presence of God in my life. I am, in fact, never walking alone. God is so completely relational that somehow, he is one God who is also one with Jesus and the Spirit. I have spent hours contemplating the Trinity and have come away with two concrete thoughts: The nature of God is a dimension beyond human understanding, so I might as well just accept that I will never “figure it out,” but the Trinity shows us perfect relational love and unity. Since God is relational, and I am created in his image–I am relational, and his Spirit really does live in me, as it does every Christian. I am never alone. For real. God’s Spirit was always walking with us when we did walk together, and the Spirit never left. God’s Spirit is still with Wyndham and is still with me. Though I can’t walk and talk hand-in-hand with Wyndham anymore I will never walk alone, and neither will he.

Today, I felt the need to retrace my steps to walk and pray, and I felt a certain sense of peace that passes human understanding. Though I’d give anything to walk the path with him again, the solo adventures I am now more accustomed to consistently reassure me that the presence of God’s Spirit continually envelops me, walking with me because of its residence in my soul. Because of this, love always accompanies me. This is an amazing reality. I can sing this song by Austris A. Whithol:

My God and I go in the field together; We walk and talk as good friends should and do;

We clasp our hands, our voices ring with laughter; My God and I walk through the meadow’s hue…

My God and I will go for aye together; We’ll walk and talk just as good friends should and do; This earth will pass, and with it common trifles, But God and I will go unendingly.

Wisdom never walks alone. Wisdom was “walking with God” at the creation of the world. Wisdom can be an intimate friend.

  The LORD by wisdom founded the earth; by understanding he established the heavens; (Prov 3:19 ESV)

  Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,” and call insight your intimate friend,… (Prov 7:4 ESV)

Wisdom Owns It

I remember as a child taking a job feeding my neighbors dogs for a few weeks while the neighbors were out of town. I probably remember this because they had me feed them bologna sandwiches for treats. I dutifully did the job, but it was a job. They were not my dogs. And they slobbered. A lot.  Then, when I was nine years old I got my own dog. I was thrilled to be the owner of a dog. This was different than feeding my neighbor’s dog. I named my dog. I played with my dog. I talked to my dog. He slept on the foot of my bed. I even wrote a poem about my dog. He was mine. I owned him

So it is with our spiritual life. If we don’t truly own it, it will feel more like a joyless job, often feeling like a mere routine? We certainly won’t thrill in it, write a poem about it, or delight in talking to God.

So what might keep us from owning our spiritual life? Routine? Neglect? Following rules rather than personal convictions? Pleasing people more than pleasing God? Having a “back door” for a possible exit? Perhaps these reasons point to our need to “work out our own salvation…” Sunday, Wyndham relayed a message about owning one’s spiritual life.

Sunday was a glorious day. Our teenage grandson made the decision to follow Jesus and was baptized into Christ. We now have a granddaughter/sister and a grandson/brother. Caleb wanted to be baptized in our hot tub in the back yard so that his Papa could be part of the wonderful occasion. We realized the day before that Sunday was also Wyndham’s 47^th spiritual birthday. He was baptized on June 2, 1972. It felt like a kiss from God to share this date.

Since Wyndham cannot speak clearly or loudly enough to share, he carefully expressed to me what he wished for me to share with Caleb on his behalf. Not surprisingly, the first scripture he wanted to share was one that has stayed close to his heart and guided his character since that day in June, 47 years ago.

The goal of this command is love, which comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith. (1 Timothy 1:5)

He asked Caleb to strive for this love and to keep a pure heart, a clear conscience, and a genuine faith.

He then asked me to read 2 Timothy 4:6-8

 For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near.
  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

It was hard to read this scripture through my tears because it feels so real and relevant. Wyndham has fought the good fight and is still fighting, perhaps in the most difficult way yet. Time for departure is nearer than we wish. He is, as described in a previous post, running “heartbreak hill.” Heartbreak hill is a long, hard stretch up a hill near the end of the Boston Marathon route. However, eternal life with God…. beyond description is waiting at the finish line. Now that’s someone and something to run to!

Wyndham asked me to tell Caleb, “It’s your race now!”

True words.

We must all own the race marked out for us. No one can run it for us. If we don’t own it, we won’t run it. At least not for long. And if we don’t own it, we will have no joy attempting the run.

Sometimes it takes times of reflection and prayer to internalize the true ownership of our race. Then, and only then can we keep running despite injury, fatigue, or course detours. The beautiful thing is that when we take ownership of our race we are carried along by loving arms of support and the breath of refreshment from he who runs alongside us, gives us refreshment, and picks us up when we fall. It’s my race. It’s your race. May we own it and run it wholeheartedly, never taking our eyes of the one who runs with us.

  Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,
  fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. (Hebrews 12:1-2)