He Looked Around at Everything

Have you ever had to give up something? 

Have you ever given up something that you had come to love, something that you truly loved? 

Maybe you’ve given up your home, the place that your family grew up in, the place that held your family close, all wrapped up in love and warmth and safety…yes, a safe place where your heart thrived and lived and loved.  I had to give up a home like that, thankfully I understood, that yes, I loved my home but it was not what defined me, it was not what defined my family, it was not my treasure, my family was, the love was. 

Where my treasure was, that is where my heart was.  So I was able to let go and to give up my home. I was on the move and I was going to be okay, my treasure was coming with me, love…in memories.  When I left that old farm house, I took a long look, I looked at everything.

I had to give up my husband, he was the fibre of our family, he was the one who supplied our needs, the one who always, always made sure we had food on the table, clothes on our backs and money in the bank…always money for a rainy day.  It was his strong arms who held our family, kept us strong, giving us a way to be stronger, again and again.  His hands were held out for a touch, a simple touch of caring, the touch of love.  He was on the move and I was going to be okay, his treasure coming with me, love in memories.  When I left his side that day, I took a long look, I looked at everything.

In my lifetime, I have given up other things, hard things, some of them were sacrifices knowing that in order to give them up I was losing something valuable but in the end gaining something too. I knew that changes were about to happen, things were going to be different.  I knew that I was going to be different.  Sacrifices…giving something up, each time I did, I took a long look, I looked at everything.

I wonder if this is how it was for Jesus, when He entered Jerusalem and went to the Temple, Mark 11:11 says He looked around at everything...did He see that this was the place he loved, that this was the place that held his heart, the place where He shared His Fathers love, showed it, gave it, honored it. Did He see now that things were about to change, that He was giving up the way He knew this place.

He looked around at everything.

Soon and very soon, He would be giving up something more.

But even so...though He was losing something valuable, He was gaining so much more, that even in this sacrifice, God had looked around at everything... for God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send His son to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him.

A treasure gained...I love that.

Noble Things

“Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.”

Proverbs 31: 29

A Tribute to Aunt Katie 

               

I read somewhere that the big difference in people is not if they have been rich or poor… rather, it is if they have known love or not.

It is clear to me that Aunt Katie has known love, from those she surrounded herself with, to the ones who wanted to be near her.  Aunt Katie knew love and she gave love, she was the dearest lady.

My own memories of her are filled with times of sharing love, showing interest in my children and my grandchildren, always giving from her heart, deeply from her soul.  From the sitting down to coffee and apple pie at McDonalds and sharing words of her life, the life she shared with Jake, the man she was devoted to… to the walking about shopping for the right gift to give her granddaughters, every purchase, every thoughtful gift was considered with love and grace.  We shared the value of books, the meaning of scripture and most recently we shared our hearts, speaking out the thoughts we held to the loss of our husbands...tears.

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Aunt Katie was sophisticated, in a simple way… she was soft spoken, a woman of integrity, a woman who despite her losses, was filled with love, over flowing with generosity and exceeding in grace.

The memories from those who loved her are laden with childhood gatherings, growing-up-together-dreams and growing-old-at-last-satisfactions.

There are childhood memories… of the Esau’s, gifts received to the Congo from across the miles of land and over oceans, packed in barrels of love, given in the way of hand sewn gifts, baking and books.  And once they were home, memories of hospitality, comfort and being made welcome…welcomed home.  Memories of the ‘Eastern’ Martens…crossing Canada for summer visits, picking berries, melting in the eating of them, and sneaking cookies from the freezer.  Memories of how she loosed her bun and let her hair fall down over her shoulders to touch the ground.  Still others who lived nearby, remember that spending time with Aunt Katie & Uncle Jake was always special…on the farms in Sumas Prairie and in Yarrow, sleepovers, playing dress up in her grown up clothes and being fascinated by the process of milking cows by hand…and all have memories of her smile, how it lit up a room and the hearing of her giggle, sweetness and joy.

There are memories of sharing and forgiving, memories of crime and punishment…always fitting and fair…justice served; memories of laughter and memories of the never ending appreciation of Aunt Katie’s generosity and grace.

Memories of a gracious hostess with wonderful home-made goodies…memories of  cookbooks, covered with splatters, jotted notes and many inserts of hand-written recipes, all tested by the wonderful cook she was…memories of munching her famous pickles, of eating her chicken noodle soup, of her giving lessons on the making of borscht and sauerkraut. Her changing from hand mixing to Bosch turning…the baking of cookies and pies and breads all with names spelled with German letters and pronounced in heavy accents zwieback, portzelky, platz, rolchucken, perishky,  hirschensalz cookies,  all of it always served with  a table cloth-spread out, on rose painted china, with coffee cups and saucers, tinkling with silver spoons.

Memories of roses growing in beds where weeds weren’t allowed, nor deer to nibble, only the roses, sweet and blooming from pruned bushes surrounded by the many other plants and flowers that Aunt Katie loved;  flowers that she made into arrangements for occasions of celebrations, church gatherings,  the weddings of her nieces and for her daughter.

Memories of sewing and stitching and threading, needles, scissors and patterns, fabrics and lace, sewn into childhood dresses-smocked, teenage skirts and blouses-pressed, choir outfits- altered, white suits for sweet boys, beautiful bridesmaid dresses…wedding dresses…all sewn with dreams, stitched with love and given freely.  Quilts put together from squares, sewn and then more; again and again and again and laying there still, folded across her sewing machine.

There are those who have memories of watching her drive her scooter on errands along with Jake …and then by herself, she was determined, and she was brave…memories of a life with no complaints…only encouragement, encouraging all of us to look only at the blessings that God has showered down.

Memories; of those in the church and in the communities that Aunt Katie along with Jake were dedicated to, families like the Friesens and the Koehns, who were taken under wing to be cared for and loved and cherished.

 

There are memories of song, singing out with a full voice, sweetly, with her sister, in high heels… and of prayers, of calling out to God begging for wisdom, for understanding and for health, on her knees.  Memories of watching her sit beside a dying husband, she was the sweetest wife … memories of her bearing the loss of Lynnette her eldest granddaughter…she was the sweetest grandmother...Then  later of standing steadfast at the bedside of her sister, losing another part of her heart…she was the sweetest sister.

Memories of brothers, Aron and Victor who called Katie sister, even though a sister through marriage, a true sister in heart.  Jake's brothers who cared deeply, for a woman who went beyond measure to return that special care and love that being part of family means.

Memories of caregivers, those taking tender care of the sweetest Aunt, days of listening to her stories, days of holding, watching, loving… softly remembering a woman who was once whole, who lay sweetly broken, in dreams of going home…and then of breathing in the last air God had given her.

There are too, now and forever, the memories of her daughter Frieda, memories of childhood dreams and wishes that only mother and daughter can share…things inside, hidden in their eyes and held in their hearts.  Memories only they could share, bittersweet losses and overflowing joys, true sadness and heartbreaks tempered with laughter and the shared knowing of heart felt love…love that only a mother and daughter can know.

Charlene holds the sweetest of these memories… they are all wrapped up in her own heart and soul.

 “Charlene is sad, why? “

“Why, Charlene?”

“Because Grandman has gone to be with Jesus, to be with Jesus in heaven, she will be young again and she will see Grandpa and Lynnette and Aunt Louise, she is happy now.”

“Yes, Charlene, Grandman is very happy now.”

Aunt Katie was the dearest friend, sister, wife, mother and grandmother…we will miss her.

“Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.”

Proverbs 31:31

Show Me

I went to a funeral on Friday; I drove my Mom and my sister to Surrey, a city where we lived for a short while.  We did not live in the city but on the outskirts, in a neighbourhood where everyone knew everyone.  I was very little then, and we moved away before I was in school but a bit of our soul stayed there on that street, not so much in the house as in the yard, the yard where the edge of ours backed on to the edge of another.  In that other yard lived our friends whom for a time, even after we moved were a part of our lives, our hearts and souls living there still…in memories.

 

Now these memories came flooding back as we were reminded of those days, those people, those heart and soul friends and their stories.  The lady who died, lived in that house whose yard touched the edge of ours, her name was Mary and she was my mother’s friend, it was an honor to go to say good bye.

The priest there said to us “There is one thing as humans that we all have in common and this commonality starts from conception in the womb.   It is not that we need food, or drink, or the way our bones are put together or the way we move, it is not that we speak or see or feel…it is that we will all die.”  This is hard for us to accept, we all want to live, and we think that this is what we will do, but we will die, we don’t know when, how or where...we all will die.

   

I remember hearing a story from a woman who was dying, she spoke in front of a ladies group to share her struggles and the hope she carried even with the knowledge that she did not have much longer to live...from the depths of her frailty, she said  “I am dying, but so are you.”

My husband’s Aunt is dying; she is laying in a hospital bed breathing in the last of the air that God has given to her.  Aunt Katie doesn’t know anymore who we are or even if we are there, but we know her, she is the sweetest lady and we all have loved her.  The dearest Aunt is dying. 

God has made us this way, but He has given us a promise that we will not be alone.

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." 

Deuteronomy 31:8

This is our blessed hope, we will not be alone, we only need to ask the way…show me.

I found this song on my playlist, it was the closest I had to an old hymn, the kind of music she likes.  I turned the volume up just so, and gently placed it on the pillow near my Aunt's ear, hoping she could hear, that she could soak up the words and melt away on them, words that could comfort her heart and soul and let her know that she is not alone.  I know she's not afraid, she knows that He is with her...that He is getting ready to show her the way home.