Stairs to the Attic--And What Access Means

  Last week Jonathan, Tim, Danny and I spent several more days working on our house in South Dakota.

Jonathan had kept tabs on the weather and saw that last week was supposed to be up in the high 30s or 40, and decided we'd come up to South Dakota and try to get some more work done on the house.

We took along propane and stayed at night in the 5th wheel travel trailer, where I also made our meals and hung out, trying to stay warm. 

Meanwhile, Jonathan and the boys set several windows and doors.  

 Every window and door set meant less cold and wind and snow going through the house this winter!

Jonathan had gotten this basement sliding door on clearance somewhere.

But what I was most excited about was stairs finally going in, so that we could get up and down between floors without having to go around outside or figure out a way to climb up the wall!  

The stairs from the hall to the attic went in first.

Wow! Now I could climb up and see the attic and watch Danny as he laid OSB floor all by himself!

"Wow!" I thought. "Finally we have access to the attic!"  

And then the boys and Jonathan built a landing and set the two sets of steps for the stairs from the first floor to the basement. 

And "Wow!" I thought. "Now we can finally reach upstairs or downstairs in seconds, now that we have stairs."

Finally there was access. Access. 

"But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ...For through Him we both have access by one Spirit to the Father." Eph. 2:14, 18.

It is interesting to note that in this very passage, Paul uses metaphors of a building, or remodeling, you might say, of breaking down a wall of separation. But we get the same idea by going to a  house that is just being built that as yet has no stairs. You can't get up and you can't get down. You can't reach the kitchen from the basement unless you go outside and walk up the hill and come in the back door. Then you can't get from the laundry room to the basement without doing exactly the opposite. And you certainly can't reach the attic unless you climb the wall!

 And who could ever reach the roof without a ladder?

Jesus is our stairs to the Father, our ladder to God. Because of our sins, we were separated from God. We couldn't reach Him. But Jesus became our set of stairs, our ladder, our wonderful way of access. We have but to climb that Ladder between earth and heaven to quickly reach our heavenly Father!

Lord, by the stairs and the ladder of the name of Jesus, we come to You this evening in worship, adoration, and prayer! Thank You for being our access to God. When our sins kept us from Him, thank You for loving us more than we deserved and providing a way for us to reach God! Thank You for coming down that first Christmas and setting the first rung in the ladder, the first step in the staircase to God and heaven.

We love you, Jesus!

Though Scarlet--Our Christmas Tree This Year

The first day of December, most of our family made a quick trip to the mountains to choose a Christmas tree.

Jonathan noticed this one!

"Our Christmas tree this year!" he cried. "Just like our year has gone!"

Twisted, tangled, and all messed up! :)

We did actually find another one that looked a little better! 

And it didn't take us long to find it. Amazingly, all of us agreed on it, too! I had insisted on a smaller tree since all our Christmas tree ornaments (and nearly all our other Christmas decor and wrap) are up stored in South Dakota where we were supposed to be by now. 

The tree we settled on was actually a tall tree, but with a very narrow, long trunk, which we could cut off wherever we chose.

And Jonathan, who knew I was missing any Christmas ornaments, had ordered this set of Names of Jesus ornaments online.   

We had to add the little bows with hot glue.  

Hannah did that job.  

 

 I loved them! 

I like for all that we do, even the decorating of our Christmas tree, to be to the glory of God.

This can be done in a variety of ways, but this year, this is how we did it. 

And I loved how the red and white theme matched the flowers Jonathan had bought for me

to give to me upon my arrival home from Missouri, where I'd driven with Tim just after the death of my dad. 

 The ones pictured above are just part of the flowers after I later divided them into two vases.

As soon as I saw those flowers, I was reminded of a verse my mom and dad had taught me as a very little girl, when they were starting to have us children memorize ABC verses from the Bible. 

It was the verse for the letter C.

"Come now, and let us reason together, says the Lord. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow. Though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."

Isaiah 1:18

That verse hit me in the face in such a powerful way after my father's death. 

 

Because when someone dies, you come face to face with the reality of eternity, and where that person will spend eternity.

And where you will spend eternity. 

And you think about their sins,

and your own. 

And you know that if it weren't for the blood of Christ, no one would get to spend eternity in heaven with Him,

no matter how many good works he or she or you have done.  

Because our awful sins have outweighed every last good deed we have ever done. 

And apart from Christ's blood there is no atonement.  

My forgiveness of those who have wronged me does not atone for their sins--

only Christ's death atones for sins.  

So whether I have forgiven someone or not, if they are trusting in Christ to cover their sins, those sins are forgiven.

And whether someone else has forgiven me or not, if I am trusting Christ alone for my salvation, then my sins are forgiven by God.

But it sure helps me a lot to know that I have forgiven, as well.  

It helps me to think that if I can forgive by God's grace, then surely a good and merciful God can also forgive sins.

And if with all our heart we throw ourselves on His mercy and grace,

repenting of and confessing our sins and turning from them, 

believing in His atonement and death,

believing in Jesus Christ our Lord,

then our sins which were as scarlet, shall become as white as snow.

 And the sins which were red like crimson, shall be as wool--washed and bleached.

 

Lord,  I am so thankful You are the judge of other people's hearts, and not I. 

I can just see both Peter the apostle and the thief on the cross strolling across heaven together,

I have to wonder if a forgiving Uriah wasn't the first to meet the forgiven David to welcome him inside the Heavenly Sheepfold. 

I can just imagine the Jewish heroine, Queen Esther, reaching across the waves of Jordan to take the hand of the humiliated woman caught in adultery whom the Pharisees brought to Jesus,

and godly Mary, mother of Jesus, clasping the hand of Mary Magdalene, cleansed from seven devils. 

And the perfect Job escorting some last-minute convert to eat of heavenly fruit. 

I can just sit in awe that humbled Pharisees and exalted, repentant publicans alike will make it to heaven. 

I am just so thankful for Your promises, for the Way that You have made through Christ, for us to be saved from our sins--

not to continue living in them, but to forsake them and repent of them and be transformed from them into a new creature who loves You and loves others--even those who have hurt and wounded us.

I have been in South Dakota the last nine or ten days and didn't get to enjoy that red and white theme very much this year, 

but our red and white Christmas theme this year is a precious reminder, 

that "though scarlet," our sins can be made "white as snow."

Thank You, precious Jesus!

Dad's Passing--When Blood Drops Mean the Most

         Saturday evening, surrounded by the family who loved him, my father breathed his last.

I had prayed that I could be with him when he died, but it was not to be. 

However, God allowed our daughter Crystal to be there, along with Mom, Elon, Iva, Joella and Craig, and grandchildren from three other families. 

They had gathered in that evening, after a long day of holding vigil, Mom never leaving the house, and Iva and Joella nearby, holding his hand, speaking words of comfort and encouragement. 

The group began to sing old hymns that he loved, such as "Day by Day."

They sang "Face to Face" and a couple hymns that we siblings had learned when we were very young, such as "O Zion Haste," which ends with "Tidings of Jesus, redemption, and release."

Little did anyone know that the moment of release from this world of pain and suffering was about to happen. 

They sang "For the Beauty of the Earth," all six verses, giving thanks for "the love which from our birth over and around us lies."

That was the hymn that the first Morley record was based on, the acapella recording Dad recorded of us children singing in Custer, SD, 45 years ago, with the title of the record based on the last words of this hymn, 

"Hymns of Grateful Praise."

And then they sang "Abide With Me."

 About forty-eight years ago, after we had learned this hymn as young children, Dad took us to the Sunday School class of his parents in the big old Methodist church in Grove City, PA, where we children sang for the class. 

"Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes,"

childish voices sang, while my father directed us to look up at a picture of Jesus on the wall while we sang. Just a few days before my father died, my sister Dorcas remembered this occasion .  

"Abide with me; fast falls the eventide.[And it was eventide.]

The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide. [And rain was falling outside.]

When other helpers fail and comforts flee, 

Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!"

 

Moisture was forming by Dad's eye, which Elon wiped away. 

 

 "Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day.

Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away. 

Change and decay in all around I see, 

O Thou Who changest not, abide with me!

 

I need They presence every passing hour. 

What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?

Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be? 

Through clouds and sunshine, oh, abide with me!

 

I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless;

Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.

Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?

I triumph still if Thou abide with me!

And then this was the verse my sister Iva almost broke down on, watching the unseeing eyes of Dad just across the room.

 

"Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; 

Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies. 

Heav'n's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee!

In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!"

The grandchildren had begun to disperse when my brother Elon quickly called them to gather around for a final prayer--and how little he knew how final it would be. As Dad's breath labored, Elon prayed, as my daughter described it, a "very long" prayer, but the perfect length. For upon its close, Elon began the Lord's Prayer and suddenly the many voices joined in. 

"Our Father...

Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."

Because of the blood drops shed on Calvary, our many sins can be forgiven, as we choose likewise to forgive others who have offended us. 

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Everything we need to pray has been prayed in that prayer.

"For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory

forever. 

Amen."

And it was then that Iva noticed my father's chest was no longer going up and down.

There was a slight gasp, and then another very slight breath.

My niece Natasha, a nurse, was summoned to check his pulse, and in a moment everyone knew that Dad was gone!

They were in shock.

They had assumed he would linger longer--we knew so many who lingered for a week or more after their last bite of food or drink of water.

But God chose to take Dad quietly and peacefully, right at the end of the Lord's Prayer.

"It was Dad's last Amen," my sister Iva wrote. 

And what a quiet, gentle Amen it was!

My mother looked up to heaven, and held up her hands, and thanked God.

We had prayed God would take him mercifully and gently,

and He did.

Because of the blood shed on Calvary, we have hope.

To You, O Lord, we lift our hymn of grateful praise!

They Used to Carry Us--Now We Carry Them

Back in Missouri last week where I had gone to spend a few days helping with the care of my dad, Mom called to me one evening. Craig had arrived back from an appointment with my dad, and he was carrying my dad into the house!

Mom thought I should take a picture! 

Dad has lost so much weight, and he was so weak that Craig just picked him up in his arms and carried him inside. 

My parents used to carry us; now we carry them.  

When Dad was resting in his chair, Mom sat down to play the piano. 

"Day by Day" she played, one of Dad's favorite hymns. 

 I took a few snapshots--because I never knew which one might be the last one.

Tucked onto the only chair in their room was this little pillow my niece had cross-stitched for Mom and Dad's 60th anniversary. 

I slept in the double bed next to Mom's in Mom's room, the bed Dad can't sleep in anymore. Mom helped me put on clean sheets and a clean comforter--a gift from old friends many years ago. 

I noticed the lovely sheets on Mom's bed--brightly flowered with snow white background, with a matching pillow case.

"I got them at a garage sale!" she explained when I complimented how pretty and snow white they were. My mom is a classy lady! She likes clean sheets and neatly organized drawers.

You don't have to have money to have class--and my mom has class!

Mom went to pay the property taxes last week one day while Dad was at dialysis. I took her to the court house to do that, as it was not far from our other stops, and it saved postage. 

The lady inside was friendly and kind. Yes, Mom had figured and counted correctly.

Mom is good that way.

And one of those days, I found her resting--something she didn't do much. She was run ragged caring for Dad, even when I and others were there. 

Care-giving is simply consuming.

 I didn't have much time to just take pictures, even though I tried to take one of these pretty red berries on the branch outside their windows.

I tried to keep meals on the table--or on a plate taken to Dad in his chair.
He liked these potato patties made from leftover mashed potatoes.   

I spent a couple hours at my brother's house one day, cutting sweet potatoes from their garden into fries. Those were yummy, too! 

I did that while Tim, who had driven me over to Missouri in his little old stick shift car, helped the cousins butcher the deer they had bagged this season.

And more than once I escaped to my sister's home--to try to regroup. 

My hat is off to all caregivers.

God bless you! How do you do it?  

Three days into it I wanted to run. But I couldn't. I knew I had to overcome.

I had to overcome sleepless hours at night, and watching someone I loved suffer and worry about his condition and be confused and upset about things because meds were making him loopy.

Foot baths, meals, bringing blankets and pillows and prepping for appointments and dialysis, comforting, rubbing his back, listening, helping back to the bathroom and trying to figure out how to treat bed sores that three doctors haven't helped much with; coming up with pleasant conversation to divert his thinking...

such as telling about how two of his granddaughters were in the local paper that week!

Crystal and Candace had visited the open house at the florist shop where two other granddaughters work, and a reporter came through to snap a picture!  

"Even to your old age, I am He,

and even to gray hairs I will carry you," God said in Isaiah 46:4.

"I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you."

And that isn't a promise just for the aging parents who are frail and weak.

It's for caregivers, too. 

God carries us both when we can't carry on.