One of the life defining moments that influenced the direction I ultimately chose to follow in life was, as an adolescent, observing my Uncle Merlin kneeling in prayer beside his bed. I was walking from the bathroom to my cousin Jeri’s bedroom during a sleepover. I had never seen a man kneel. I instinctively knew he was praying even though I had never seen such a thing.
I didn’t know that dads knew how to kneel, let alone pray. Actually, it was so unusual that it struck me as pretty funny. Hilarious in fact. With a wide grin, I whispered to my cousin “I saw your father praying.”
Thank-you Uncle Merlin for a private lesson – taught thru your kind and gentle example of Christlike living. You changed my life, and because you changed my life, many years later, you altered the lives of my family, and of my future family.
The truth is, if I was to be completely honest – I wasn’t that good of an influence on my cousins. I sometimes got them into trouble because they were too nice to shut me down, and I often pushed things a little too far even for their comfort (though I did make them laugh). I think that sometimes my Aunt Jolayne must have dreaded me coming over, although years later she adamantly denied it. She certainly never ever made me feel like she did; she let Jeri keep inviting me, and she always made me feel welcome.
Thank-you Aunt Jolayne for YOUR private lessons – taught thru your kind and gentle example of Christlike living. You changed my life too. I owe a lot to you and Uncle Merlin. And I will love you forever for what you both did for me. And through me, for my family, and later for my children’s family.
I sometimes wonder where my life would have led me had I not had this moment, and a myriad of other seemingly insignificant little moments like it that added up. I wonder where I would be now, and by extension where my family would be had my uncle not been transferred to the same military base we lived on when I was a young girl. . . . I told my aunt many years later that I believed they moved up there for ME. That quite literally, Heavenly Father loved me enough and trusted them enough to not let him down – to orchestrate that event with all it entailed because of the sheer weight of influence that would come of it. I told her that I was told by my mom she was unhappy about moving up there to what she then considered the edge of civilization, but that I was convinced it was for ME. Not at the time of course, but with adult eyes as I reflected upon all that came of it. I thanked her for being patient with the direction God led them, and for letting Him prevail.
We must never, ever, ever underestimate the power of good example and charity. Trust in God. Let Him Prevail. See every moment as a gift with which to do something ordinarily good. Take every opportunity to be kind – even to those you don’t know are observing. And because we’re human, and we can’t possibly always be good – be quick to apologize, and turn it around. Share the gospel by showing and doing. THAT is true religion.
One day whe Luke was three or four years old, he said to me “Remember when Jesus came to our house Mom?” hmmmm, I was a just a little confused …. “Nooo Luke. I don’t remember that.” “Mom! He came. Remember?” I racked my brain trying to recall some bearded man who had recently come to visit us. But couldn’t. “uh, no Luke. I am sorrry. I don’t remember.” “Mom! You were there!” Had Brother Blommaert come to visit? He had a beard. “Mom! He ringed the doorbell!” Had Brother Blommaert dropped something off recently? When I wasn’t home perhaps? “And he gave you a present.” …. oh my – this was getting very mysterious. “Jesus gave ME a present Luke?” Brother Blommaert MUST have been by. “Yes! And the present was all wrapped up in a blanket.”
Feeling very sorry to disappoint him, but not recalling any recent event that might fit into the description he was giving me, I admitted defeat. “No Luke. I am sorry. But I cannot remember when Jesus came to our door and gave me a present.” “MOM! And he said SURPRISE! and when you opened it up, it was ME!” The light went on. “Oh Yes! I certainly do remember when Jesus gave me a wonderful surprise, and you’re right, it WAS you. Best surprise ever. …… But Luke, Jesus didn’t actually ring the doorbell.”
Luke couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t heard the wonderful story of how he came to our family. “A long time ago, there was just Mommy and Daddy, and Jacob, and Sarah, and Zack and Joseph. But no Luke. We thought everybody in our family was home. But you weren’t with us yet. You were still living in heaven. You were waiting for your turn to come to us, but we didn’t know that because it was a surprise. And we were just going about doing our stuff. And you were saying “Wait! Wait for me.” but we couldn’t hear you. We were having a picnic, and riding our bikes, and eating dinner and reading stories and you were saying “Hey! Wait for me!” And then one day, Heavenly Father said “its time to go join your family” and you were so happy. And Heavenly Father told us “Surprise!” and He gave you to us. And we were so surprised! And so so so happy.”
Well that boy is almost thirty years old. And just about three decades ago Heavenly Father really did tell us “Surprise!”, and a few months later, Luke joined our happy family, completing that generation of it. April 7 1990. A Happy Day for all of us. Luke gave Jacob the chance to re-find his tender-big-brother-side, Sarah the chance to practice being a mommy on her own real-live doll. He gave Zack and Joseph a little brother to play with and to take care of. And he gave Dan and I another chance to put into practice all the things we learned from the other kids. Another chance to get it right. Baby Luke was a delight to us all. Never was there a little boy more loved and cared for, and cuddled and read to. He was always in someone’s arms. Sitting in church became a political problem …. he was three years old and everyone still wanted to hold him. I am amazed he ever learned to sit on his own, let alone walk on his own.
Why the story? Because at one point, before 1990 we thought we were finished having children. The doctors had strongly advised that my fourth caesarian should be my last, and after months of confusion, and praying for guidance about such an important decision, we decided at length to follow the doctor’s counsel and leave the details up to the Lord. We never had that conclusive feeling that our family was finished, but we knew with God all things are possible. We had good examples of adoption in our extended families. We had fostered briefly. We had provided a home for two years for the teenaged child of a friend. We knew there were numerous ways a child could join a family. It didn’t need to be traditional. We figured that if we were open and receptive, then one day, when the time was right, Heavenly Father would find a use for these parents who still had years to give. We trusted that one day – we might be surprised, and that if we would just be watchful, and receptive to the promptings, that we would respond appropriately when the time came, and the Lord might be able to work through us. It never occured to us that a child could come to us through the normal means after we had taken measures to ensure I didn’t get pregnant again. We didn’t think that was possible. Well, guess what? It is. With God – ALL things are possible. He knows us. He knows our hearts. He knows what is best for us. And He was patient with our decision five years before – knowing afterall, that He was in control. “You do the best you can until you know Better.” right?
My fear was that one day Luke might hear the word ‘surprise‘ from another source,and another perspective. All of our friends and family knew the miracle by which he came to us. I was afraid that at some point, he might overhear a portion of his story out of context, and he might deduce that ‘surprise’ meant something else. I wanted him to always know he was important, and loved and welcomed to our family with open arms and open hearts. I wanted to make sure that he never had a reason to doubt that, and I concluded that the only way I could ensure he never thought differently was if he heard it all from ME first. So from before the time he could talk, he heard his story. About how we didn’t know he was going to come to our family, but we were so happy when we found out. I told him in a way that I thought he could absorb. Funny how kids fit truth into their own reality. They sort it out in the way that they see the world. In the way that makes sense to them. I was okay with that. I knew that as he grew and his understanding developed, he would sort out the details. The only thing that was critically important was that he always feel loved.
Somewhere along the line, Luke grew up. And now he has two babies of his own. Very wanted and welcomed and loved babies that he shares with his lovely wife Pam, and with the rest of us. Cause that’s what families do. But he’s still my baby. And I still refer to him as my baby. And sometimes the grandchildren feel the need to object. “Uncle Luke isn’t a baby!” they say. I tell them “oh yes he is. Don’t ever fool yourselves. Uncle Luke will always be our baby. And you know what? He likes being the baby. Don’t you Uncle Luke?”
“Yup.” (that’s how he talks)
And the world continues to turn. And babies grow up. And mom’s get older too. But some things should never change.
