Waiting for any given Sunday

Last year, on Mother's Day, I wrote a tribute to my mom.  It was touching.  I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats.  Seriously, it was pretty good.  If you are still looking for something for your mom, you should totally steal it.  Although, unless at one point you lit the house on fire, you will have some editing to do.

And my mom still rocks.  But I'm pretty sure she knows that, so this year, I wanted to do something a little different.

Four generations

Between the ride to and from church and the service itself, I heard three, what I consider, "old school hymns."  Listening to them, I can't help but think about the one person I know who loved those hymns more than anyone, my grandmother.  Granted, when she learned them, they were probably new.  This morning as I sang "I need thee every hour," I could just see her sitting in the second pew on the left side of the pulpit holding her hymnal (red for Wednesday, green on Sunday), singing as loud as that little old lady voice could sing.  Any given Sunday, rain, snow, shine, 40 degrees below, broken hip . . . it didn't matter.  She was there, singing.

Growing up, I didn't really give it much thought.  Being a preacher's kid, church four or five times a week was the norm.  But as I look back now her singing it means something so different to me.

I guess when I was a kid, I kinda figured grandma had a pretty cushy life.  She had a great little house with a big yard that was just an ally away from an ice skating rink in the winter. Her stairs were always full of canned goods, so she was never out of food (although you often couldn't climb the stairs without endangering your life). She loved the Lord and would be the first to tell you that.  I guess I thought she sang songs like "The Old Rugged Cross" and "Jesus Paid it All" with joy because she didn't really have any worries.

In hindsight, I wasn't too bright.

She had kids, so right there I know she had worries.  She had my mom late in life and almost died in childbirth. A couple years later my mom almost died of appendicitis (apparently something that runs in my family).  My uncle was adopted and raised so much like a son that I had no idea he wasn't their blood son until my grandpa passed away.   Both her sister's and her niece's husbands died tragically and much too early. Her mother, my great grandmother, had Alzheimers (although in those days it went undiagnosed).  She and her sister cared for her day and and day out for years.  She cared for her until her mom no longer knew who she was. And then she cared for her longer.  And then, she sat right by her side as her mother died. My grandpa was a copper miner, a job that literally risked his life every day. Every day, I'm sure she worried for his safety.  Then, after decades of marriage,  her husband, my grandfather, passed away.  And she lived as a widow. 

She was hospitalized numerous times as her health and her body failed her.

Still she sang.

My grandma the first time she met her great granddaughter, Anna

It was only this morning that I realized when she sang "I need thee every hour," it was the cry of her heart.  She lived through enough tragedy and trials to know that without God providing for her, she wouldn't make it. 

But He did provide for her.  Every day.  Maybe not in that cushy way that I thought.  But no matter what she faced, He always showed up.  And she sang His praise, right up until her breath gave out.

My grandma was a true prayer warrior.  Something I have long admired.  If you are reading this and are family, or friends of our family, or someone she met one time, or someone she heard about that was in need, I guarantee she spent time on her knees for you. A naive 18 year old from small town Montana moving to big State college across the county who thought I knew it all, I often attribute my safety during those college years to the many, many, many hours she spent praying for me.  I also know she prayed that I would find a Godly spouse, as she and my mother before me did. I know that my life today was shaped by her prayers. Both the ones I know and the ones I can't imagine.

Every Sunday after church, from before I was born until I left for college, we sat around the table at her house and ate "Sunday Supper."  Our family was always there, but there was an open invitation to anyone who didn't have anywhere to go . Often we would be joined by a random cousin who was in town or a first time visitor to the church.  When she passed away, the only thing I wanted to inherit was that table, which now sits in my dining room. Although I've come to find out that table is really designed to seat 8, I'm sure we often had 14-16 people squeezed in. I aspire to be the hostess that she was, although her meatloaf will always taste better than mine.  I want people to feel as welcome in my house as they always did in hers. 

But most of all, I want to have the kind of faith she had.  For people to look at me and wonder how, in the midst of all of the pain and loss, I can still sing,"My faith is built on nothing less than Jesus' love and righteousness."  I want my children to hear me singing, "All to Jesus I surrender," and then I want them to see me actually surrender our darkest times to Him, knowing He won't ever leave us.  When my health is failing, when I'm betrayed by my family and friends, when the day comes that I lose my own mother or husband, or just on any given Sunday, I want to live with the kind of faith that knows for sure that God will provide.

So on this Mother's Day, I remember my Grandma Hegstad.  Every time I eat at her table, I will remember her heart, her joy, and her cooking. And every time I hear a hymn, I will remember her faith.

So grandma, I hope you enjoyed this, because I'm pretty sure they have Internet access in heaven.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you mom's, grandmas, and great grandmas. In case you ever have any doubt, your impact reaches beyond the eternal.

I Need Thee Every Hour
Words: An­nie S. Hawks, 1872.
Music: Ro­bert Low­ry


I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord;
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.

I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby;
Temptations lose their power when Thou art nigh.

I need Thee every hour, in joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, or life is in vain.

I need Thee every hour; teach me Thy will;
And Thy rich promises in me fulfill.

I need Thee every hour, most Holy One;
O make me Thine indeed, Thou blessèd Son.

I need Thee, O I need Thee;
Every hour I need Thee;
O bless me now, my Savior,
I come to Thee.

Waiting for summer

A few things have changed since I moved to Texas a decade and a half ago.  The most obvious (besides my accent) are of course the husband and kids.  However, those are what I consider life changes.  If they didn't happen in Texas, they probably would have happened somewhere (although my husband may disagree).

One of the major changes in my life has simply to do with geography.

I hate summer.

No longer do I look forward to that three months of bliss,  No responsibilities. Sleeping in late.  Staying up later. Spending every day in the pool (since that requires a swim suit).

This is not a major revelation, but Texas is hot.

Really hot.

It is also humid. And hot.

This makes summer a miserable time of mapping out locations with AC that also allow kids to run off some energy.

But last week (as it was already 90 degrees), I watched my children squeal in delight as they ran through the sprinkler. Joy written on their little faces smeared with with water, grass, and a touch of mud.

As I sat in the shade with a cool beverage, I asked myself, when did running through the sprinkler stop being fun?  I guessed it was sometime around the same time as being tickled goes from delightful to horrid.

So with that in mind, here is a list of childhood joys that I am going to try this summer in hopes they bring back a small fraction of joy I see in my kids.

- Swing as high as I can and jumping from the highest point.

- Spin until I can't walk straight.

- Play in a fountain fully dressed in the middle of the day.

- Ride the grocery cart through the parking lot to the car.

- Start a game of tag with complete strangers.

- Be amazed by the moon. Every time I see it.

- Look at the pets in the petstore and squeal in delight every time a puppy puts his paw on the glass. (Disclaimer: I realize many people are against pet stores, and this is in no way an endorsement. But I can't take the kids to the shelter to look at puppies because we would come home with one every time. Besides, the shelter isn't in the mall.)

- Do a cannonball in the swimming pool and be proud instead of horrified at the size of the splash I make.

- Chase the ice cream truck through the neighborhood and taking five full minutes to decide which treat I want.

- Play in any body if water, no matter how small or large, including lakes, rivers, streams, mud puddles, bath tubs, and of course, sprinklers.

- Fish.

- Roll down a giant grassy hill.

- Enjoy doing the wave at a major league baseball game. In fact, I might even start it. (I realize this may be more controversial than the pet store. Don't care.)

- See as many fireworks shows as possible. Love all of them.

- Dance whenever I hear live music, including in the street, in a restaurant, at the mall, and in church.

- Eat popcorn at the movies without one thought to how many calories are in the "butter" or how long it has been sitting in the machine.

- Buy quarter toys.

- Make wishes on stars, eyelashes, coins thrown in fountains, and lawn gnomes. The last category is new, but I can't imagine why a lawn gnome wouldn't grant a wish.

- Make a sandcastle.

- Sing really loudly whether I know the words or not. Okay, so I already do this, but now I'm going to do it proudly and more often.

- Eat an ice cream cone outside without caring if it is dripping down my arm.

- Turn off the televison, phone, and computer and play tickle monster with my kids every single time they ask.

- Ask my friends to come over more often.

- Have a happy meal and make up a game using the toy and the box.

Your turn. What childhood joys do you miss most?