Faith-Grace

Recent events in my family of origin have highlighted how easily we revert to/hold onto a flawed view of God's grace and human fragility.

Unfortunately, it seems that God allows a whole lot more ambiguous and painful things to enter our lives than we were led to believe in our younger days. There was definitely a teaching that if we followed Christ perfectly we could be spared most of the nastiness of life. Turns out that bad things happen to Christ followers, too. Faith, prayer, legalism, etc. can't cure mental illness.

Funny... Legalistic Christians can accept cancer, disease, tragedy, etc. as just the experience of every life, but there's a bias that believes that mental illness hinges on a right relationship with God. Now, that's a slippery slope that we watched our mom slide down. Repeatedly.

Mental illness was the background of our family relationships. As was faith in an omnipotent God, and his call on us as Christ-followers to walk a righteous path.

The fact that my siblings have built healthy, loving families who continue to walk with the Lord is precisely attributable to prayerful grandparents, parents, and aunts and uncles. And, to God's grace and unconditional love.

 

PRAYERS

I've mentioned before, I'm from a family of praying women. And, the lives of each family member has certainly been blessed by the consistency of those prayers.

Many of my memories of Grandma Korta center around her prayers. We were expected to participate in (lengthy and on your knees) family devotions when we visited. First there would be a Bible passage read aloud, and then Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt Vivian, and I would move to our knees for prayers--each in-turn.

And, if Grandma was nowhere to be seen, you could almost always find her in her closet, on her knees in front of the vanity bench pictured above. I inherited it, by request, back in the early 1970s and eventually had friends reupholster it in a beautiful fabric, which I still love about 20 years later.

I'm a praying mother and grandmother. I don't think I have the attention span that my fore-mothers had, but I do try to remember each of my loved ones in prayer most days. There is power in prayer. I've the stories to prove it.

HYMNS THAT SHAPE MY LIFE

What A Friend We Have In Jesus

What a friend we have in Jesus,
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
all because we do not carry
everything to God in prayer.

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful
who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
take it to the Lord in prayer.


Are we weak and heavy laden,
cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge;
take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do thy friends despise, forsake thee?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In his arms he'll take and shield thee;
thou wilt find a solace there.

Blessed Savior,
Thou hast promised
Thou wilt all our burdens bear

May we ever, Lord, be bringing
all to Thee in earnest prayer.
Soon in glory bright unclouded
there will be no need for prayer
Rapture, praise and endless worship
will be our sweet portion there.
http://www.hymns.me.uk/what-a-friend-we-have-in-jesus-favorite-hymn.htm


Words: Jo­seph M. Scriv­en, 1855. Scriv­en wrote this hymn to com­fort his mo­ther, who was across the sea from him in Ire­land. It was orig­in­al­ly pub­lished anon­y­mous­ly, and Scriv­en did not re­ceive full cred­it for al­most 30 years.


Music: Erie, Charles C. Con­verse, 1868 (MI­DI, score). In World War I, the tune was paired with the words to “When This Bloody War is Over.”
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/w/a/f/wafwhij.htm



There was a lot wrong about my childhood, but taking us to church and teaching us to love Jesus was one of the very right and best things my parents did, with tons of help from my grandparents.
 
Daily, I am comforted by lines of Bible verses or lyrics of old hymns that I learned as a child. I am forever thankful for the instilling of God's words and the poetry of the old saints. Osmosis, repetition, rote learning... It all worked.

GRANGER

image via onetruelovevintage.com

It's the dark blue Granger tobacco tin. A hugely defining remnant from the 1950s. Grandpa Korta's woodworking shop was cluttered with Granger tobacco tins. He stored all sorts of sizes and shapes of fasteners and stuff in those cans. A generous and gregarious man, he still would wince and remonstrate and hurry to move us away from his treasures. Oh so tempting with their tight-fitted lids with a centered bulbous handle.

I'm sending this photo to my sisters. I'm unleashing ribbons and waves of nostalgia and childhood memories.

LOVING YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW

Gigi reading to JA - Omaha in June

I was skimming through the Chicago Tribune today--scanning and opting not to read all the info/tributes to Michael Jackson--and read a bit of a column by Eric Zorn and Mary Smich. What caught my eye was Eric Zorn's reference to his "beloved mother-in-law." Wow! Not the descriptive usually attributed to mothers-in-law.

THE CLOSET, PART 3

This is a different closet. My grandma's walk-in closet. I didn't know anyone ever, growing up, who had a walk-in closet, but my grandma did. She was precious and cherished by my grandpa. They met when he was 25 and she 15 years old. They dated for 10 years before they married--he was determined to build her a house before they married. And, he did. When the first floor was completed, they married. They lived in that house together 46 years and raised 3 daughters and 6 grandchildren. They had 8, but the other two had responsible parents.