Gregory E. Lang's Blog, page 12

Jesus

My friend, the subject of this letter, Jesus, is of immeasurable importance. Please take a deep breath, clear your mind of all distractions, and pay close attention to what I am about to teach you, for it is a challenging thing to comprehend. In fact, it is quite difficult to condense all that can be understood about Jesus into a single brief letter, so I urge you to consider this only a primer. If my teaching appeals to you at all, commit yourself to learning more through your study and curiosity. You will be richly rewarded for the time you spend discovering more about Jesus.

Now, on to the reason I am writing to you. You are a broken person living in a broken world and, as such, are constantly bombarded by the temptation of sin. In the exercise of your free will, you inevitably do the very things you ought not to do. Your sin renders you unclean and unholy in the sight of God, thus you are rightly separated from him. How is it, then, that a broken and unholy person can glorify a God who demands perfection in his creature? You may aspire to holiness, but sadly, you will never achieve it because you, as am I, are cursed with an inherited sin nature passed down to us through our disobedient forefathers, beginning with Adam. As much effort as you may invest in being good, you can never be good enough, for the weakness of the flesh will always fail you. Therefore, what to do? Friend, you need an advocate to represent you before God, and in fact, you have the perfect one in Jesus Christ.

 Jesus Christ, the Son of God, our advocate, is your Savior. He is your Savior because only he, who is God himself on Earth in the form of man, is able to protect you from the just punishment you, a sinner, are due. Although born into a broken world, Jesus was not conceived by man. Thus, he had no sin nature, and without a sin nature he was able to obey God completely and with absolute perfection. Thus blameless because he violated not one of God’s commandments (was without sin), he stands before God on the merit of his righteousness.  And in his unlimited and uncompromising love for you, knowing your weaknesses and inabilities, he gave himself as a willing sacrifice for the benefit of you, indeed for all men, to pay the penalty of sin so that you might live in Heaven in the presence of God where you will glorify him, just as intended. Wonderful! Yes, but how is this amazing thing accomplished?

If the wages of sin are death, and you and I, as sinners, are surely destined to die, what is the reward for living a life absent of sin? Life! Jesus, the lamb without blemish who was slain, defeated death, and is now in the company of God where he, stirred by his love for you, through grace (unmerited favor), extends his boundless righteous credit to cover your debt when you profess your belief that the sufficiency of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice is far more than enough to overshadow, indeed erase, your guilt as a sinner. Christ satisfied the wrath of God once and for all time. God is so pleased in the faith and work of Christ that his good pleasure overflows and reaches all men who cling to Christ as their hope for eternal survival. Yes, Christ died in this world so that dead men might live with him in the next. This is an invaluable offer, and I beg you to accept it.

Friend, it took me a long time to understand this, and it might for you, too. I pray that you spend time reading the Bible, praying, and fellowshipping with other believers so that what I have written to you may become more believable and irresistible. I pray this because it is my heart’s desire that we will enjoy God in Heaven together for eternity. Amen.

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Your Purpose

Friend, this letter brings you a lesson of immeasurable importance; consider this carefully. As I have already told you, the foundation of Christianity is built upon our proper relation to God as our Creator. You must understand that you are not your own; you belong to God. You are a splendid jar of clay made with his very hands. He designed and formed you. And just as you are not your own, your purpose in this world is not your own; instead, it belongs to God. God’s purpose for you is your only ordained purpose. Your ordained purpose is the very reason you were created, and you were created to glorify God. You have but one objective in life: to please the Lord through praise and worship of him. God owes you nothing, but you owe him everything!

Therefore, do not seek anything other than the glory of God and his approval of you. Spend your time and energy in constant devotion to him, giving your whole life to his praise and glory, pressing through every difficulty in your path in faithful pursuit of fulfilling your purpose. Then, not only will you please God, but he will show you his pleasure, fill you with hope, and prosper you with Heavenly blessings. Friend, blessings on Earth are one thing, but those that await you in Heaven far exceed the riches of this world! Please, do not lust and labor for worldly treasures for your gratification today, for not one of them will sustain you. Only your Creator sustains you; he is worthy of your every effort, ceaseless praise, and undivided devotion.

This is a difficult teaching, but learn it you must. To glorify God, much is required of you. For example, you must always be willing to go to uncomfortable places or endure uncomfortable experiences if doing so brings credit and praise for the Lord. Never tolerate any avoidance of your purpose in yourself. Never self-indulge in any practice or opinion that is not agreeable to a holy God. Always be aware of every thought on your mind and the words coming from your mouth, and let both be an example to others of what a God-honoring life looks like. Take no credit for being a good person; do nothing for your praise and glory, for you cannot save yourself. Jesus, the manifestation of God in the flesh, has done that work for you.  So instead, praise God that he holds you upright in his mighty and merciful hand.

I know it is tempting to think you know what is best for you and to imagine what will be your lasting legacy. But your legacy will not last, for all worldly things pass away and are forgotten over time. Only Heavenly things will endure. It is far better that your legacy be that you had the saving knowledge of Christ, as shown by your loyal, heartfelt obedience to his commands. Strive to know his commands and abide in them. They are quite simple: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.” Do that, and you will live forever.

 Remember always that you are an image-bearer of the Almighty God. You were created to bring glory to him, to honor him, to praise his name, to thank him for his abundance in your life, and to praise him for his endless grace, the riches of his love, his splendor, and majesty as a God who is righteous and just. This is the very purpose of man – to glorify God in every way, all of the time. Go to him daily in reverence and awe and willfully submit to your purpose!

Again, Child of God, give glory to God in Christ and represent him well. Remember, your Father in Heaven wants to bless you, prosper you, and help you find joy in all his creation because he loves you. Where else might you find a love such as this! It is fitting, then, I think, to give yourself entirely to him and his plans for you in a spirit of thanksgiving and posture of obedience. If you agree, and I pray you do, labor for the Lord, making him known through your righteous words and deeds, and praise him in your thoughts and words. I encourage you as a friend and one who loves you to accept, embrace, and fulfill your purpose. Thanks be to God for all that you will accomplish in his name. Amen.

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Awe of God

Friend, let us begin at the beginning. What better place in the whole collection of God-breathed words to encounter our first conflict between God and the world than Genesis 1:1. I tell you the truth: these ten words are pivotal to your journey through the remainder of your coming to know God. The foundation of Christianity is laid in our relation to God as our Creator. If you do not believe Genesis 1:1 without any qualification or rationalization, if you cannot take the verse on its face and believe that God is the origin, the author, of all things, that he needed no help to turn nothing into something, and not just any something but something as grand and splendorous as the star-filled galaxy and the vestibular system within your inner ears that keeps you upright in that galaxy as the world spins on its axis at more than 1000 miles per hour, you will gain little if anything from my letters.

God–the name of the Supreme Being. One of the main themes of Genesis is to establish the sovereignty of God. The sovereignty, the full right and power to govern oneself without any interference from outside sources, of God. There is absolutely nothing that happens in the universe that is outside of God’s influence and authority. As King of kings and Lord of lords, God has no limitations. The sovereignty of God is not merely that God has the power and right to govern all things but that He does govern all things, always and without exception. God is not simply sovereign in principle but sovereign in practice.

Genesis 1:1 affirms God alone is eternal and that all else owes its origin and existence to him. No doubt, the very first verse of the Bible is a major stumbling block for those who place their faith in science. Your first surrender during this journey is to accept what you may not understand as truth and to believe in God and what he says. If you fail to do that, you hold science in higher esteem than God. You must not attempt to reduce the nonreducible; you cannot comprehend the ways of God. You must worship him by faith rather than evidence. As a wise man once said, “If you understand, it is not God.” (St. Augustine)

The real danger of dismissing the miracle of creation is that such thoughts introduce doubt about the truth of the whole Bible. Doubt is insidious and pervasive, a great arrow in the enemy’s sheath. Doubt about the truth of Genesis 1:1 will lead you to doubt that Adam was formed from dirt and Eve from his rib. When you dismiss these and all other miracles, you put aside the very evidence given to you that should leave you with your mouth dropped in awe of God.

But you are tempted to understand the miracles of the Bible with the aid of science, aren’t you? Be warned: do not burden your mind with efforts to fuse science and the word of God; such is to attempt a peace accord between God’s truth and man’s knowledge. Such is to believe the knowledge of man is equal to the wisdom of God. It is not necessary here to discredit science but to put it in its proper place, and that place is not just after God but also beneath God.

An abundance of scientific evidence suggests the universe had a beginning. If there was a beginning, there was a cause for that beginning. Since the beginning, we have had a very complex universe, an intricate system of cause-and-effect forces that work together for the mutual benefit of the whole. The Earth is not breaking down before our eyes and devolving into random chaos, but it is stable, sustained, and predictable; the Earth and its living creatures are an amalgam of particularities that work together according to a design—a masterful design—not by chance.

There was a cause that brought about a beginning that resulted in something that is the product of a masterful design. What was that cause? We cannot say it was something else without falling into the trap of explaining one beginning with an endless regression of causes that begot other beginnings, predating the beginning that resulted in us. According to God, he created the heavens and the earth; they were not formed from any pre-existing materials but made from nothing. Again, be in awe!

Only something that had no beginning but rather always was and is and will be could be the agent that caused the beginning, and that would be God. God is the uncaused cause of all finite things. When Moses asked God for his name, his response was ” “I Am Who I Am”. It is clear God determines God; no one or anything else does. God is omnipotent (can do anything), omnipresent (is everywhere), and omniscient (knows everything), and on that divine authority, in the beginning, he created the heavens and the earth. 

In the beginning of time, this world was created by a Being of infinite wisdom and power, who was himself before all time and all worlds. This first verse declares the great and important truth that all things had a beginning, that nothing throughout the vast extent of nature existed from eternity, originated by chance, or from the skill of any inferior agent, but that God’s creative power produced the whole universe. God made heaven and earth out of nothing. The world was not eternal but had a beginning, and its creation was caused only by the power and wisdom of God, the first cause and sole author of all things.

Lay everything else aside, take a step in faith, and embrace Genesis 1:1, the first documented miracle, given to you so that you may know your Father’s awe-inspiring power and unfathomable brilliance. It is your first step in surrendering to God.

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Letters to a Friend: Simple Lessons in Christian Living (Introduction)

Dear Beloved Friend:

I write these little letters to give you advice that will keep you in the right relationship with God. A right relationship with God is more important than anything else you might enjoy in this world, but without proper attention,  it can be elusive for many of your days. I  want to help spare you any separation from God. My friend, there is an ongoing war between good and evil that will endure for a time, and your very soul is the object of this conflict. This war is not always obvious; it is often played out in subtle maneuvers on the battlefields of your heart and mind. The enemy utilizes so many distractions and falsehoods in this war that it would be easy for you to become preoccupied with pondering immediate and empirical things rather than things unseen and of a time beyond the here and now. I want your life to be of the utmost purpose, meaning, and peace that will last forever, so I want to teach you these few important lessons while I can about how to guard yourself against defeat by the attacks of this enemy.

My letters are more about what you should do and how to be in this world during this war than they are explanations for the inevitable Why questions that will arise during your daily struggles. It is perfectly fine to ask why questions; I have so many times myself, and truthfully, I often still do. But I think it better for you to begin acting like a Christian as soon as you can rather than wait until you are intellectually satisfied with theological answers to your questions. I think this because I believe God smiles on your good conduct even if you may not know the doctrine supporting your actions. As God smiles on you, you will enjoy his blessings, and those blessings will urge you to continue your good deeds, which, in turn, helps to open your heart and mind to explanations that might otherwise escape your understanding. This is your strategy for prevailing triumphant in this war, to discern and obey the will of God.

You may think my letters are repetitious, but the truth deserves repeating, and often. Practice makes perfect. All these lessons may not be believable and relatable to you just yet. Still, I promise, if you heed my advice and return to these letters often, your heart and mind will slowly be opened to an incomprehensible wonder you cannot ignore. This is my hope for you,  that you will know the Lord as I do, for that would mean we will one day be together in fellowship in Heaven into eternity. Oh, what a victorious blessing that will be! I thank God for you and pray that he and my letters will comfort you throughout your life. May it be so!

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Why I Still Love You (originally published 2007)

A little more than a year ago my wife, Jill, and I sat back with members of my family in a crowded room and watched a man and a woman dance. He, agile and with deft feet, did most of the dancing. She, weakened by a long-term illness, smiled as he swirled around her. He held her hand to keep her steady and looked at her with love in his eyes, yet watching her closely for signs of fatigue. They were my aunt and uncle; it was their 50th wedding anniversary.

Uncle Mike and Aunt Mary Jean met in church at a youth fellowship event. They were each other’s first date; they had been each other’s only companion since that evening so long ago. Theirs was the longest romantic history of any couple I’ve ever known, except for my parents, who met over fifty-eight years ago.

As Jill and I watched my aunt and uncle dance, we were touched by the evidence of their enduring love, and yet somewhat saddened by a realization. We have been married only a few years; our union, a subsequent marriage for each of us, occurred when we were well into our midlife. We wish we had met sooner, fearing as we do that though we plan to spend the rest of our lives together, that time will be, indeed, too short. We will never see a 50th anniversary.

I tried to reassure my wife that evening by promising her I would make sure we packed as many wonderful experiences and romantic memories as we could into the time we would be given. I was confident in my promise because I have had good teachers to show me how to care for and nurture a lasting marriage.

In addition to my aunt and uncle and my parents, I have many other relatives who have also enjoyed long-lasting marriages. It is from my older relatives that I have learned spouses should always let their partner know he/she is irresistible, to never stop courting and flirting with one another, to reciprocate every gesture of affection and act of kindness shown to you, and always attempt to steal a kiss when it is least expected, no matter who may be watching. It was when watching my older married relatives interact that I have tried to discover the secrets of having a lasting marriage.

I think everyone has an older-generation couple in their family they look to as role models. We think of these people as role models because we see what we think are prefect or near-perfect marriages. We do not really know what their troubles might have been during their many years together, but we know that no matter what they were, the relationship endured the challenges they faced; the couple survived intact. Somehow they figured out what to do to overcome differences and stay focused on the love shared rather than the frustration or hurt that might have occurred. I wanted to know how to do that, too.

Perhaps, I think, one of the secrets of a lasting marriage is to understand that no matter how much you might love someone, your relationship will not be perfect. It will be tested, sometimes more than once. Love involves risk, hard work and compromises, even sometimes tears, but with the understanding that such difficulties will arise, they can be offset by the goodwill and good memories that have been intentionally created in advance.

An additional secret, and one which I hope will become common wisdom, is to also understand that to conquer the test is to reach a deeper, more enduring connection that helps the relationship to survive, if not thrive. More love is the reward for remaining persistent and diligent in protecting and preserving the relationship.

Uncle Mike and Aunt Mary Jean’s relationship thrived. I do not know of what difficulties they faced, but I am certain whatever they might have been, none were so great that any were remembered on the dance floor during that evening of celebration of their marriage. Nor were they a year later during one winter night when my aunt died at home.

That night her oldest son, another cousin and I, the first three grandchildren of our clan, stood at the foot of their bed and watched as my uncle held the body of his wife of fifty-one years. He stroked her hair, sang love songs to her, proclaimed her to be his best friend, and said to us, “I’m so glad she can finally rest.”

In the thirty minutes my cousins and I stood there bearing witness to this remarkable display of unselfish love, I learned what I now think is the real secret of lasting marriage. My uncle’s thoughts were not of the pain of his great loss, but of the absence of her pain, that which had gripped her for so long. In his heart, in his life, she came first.

And so it is. The secret to having a lasting marriage is that in all matters of life, the spouse comes first. It is the best, indeed the only, evidence which demonstrates, “You are more important to me than I am.” That is unselfish love. When both spouses abide by this moral, there is no fracture that could threaten the marriage, no obstacle that cannot be overcome, no limit to the love that can enjoyed.

I left the house that early morning carrying with me a new perspective on committing yourself to someone in marriage.

When I next laid eyes on Jill, I saw her differently. I held her differently. I loved her differently – I loved her more, and I pledged then not to waste an opportunity to tell and show her, “I love you more than myself.”

I first set out to write this book to celebrate long-term, committed, romantic relationships, to create a gift for a couple who wanted to tell each other “I’m still so in love with you; I would marry you again tomorrow!” For them, I hope these pages resonate familiar and are shared together with a laugh and a smile.

I also wrote this book for couples who will weather storms, be it because of specific events or the personal and relationship changes that might occur during a lifetime. For them, I hope this book might be the perfect gift for one to communicate to the other that they want the relationship to endure. May these words and photos inspire them to embrace their romantic history and recommit to one another with hope and optimism.

Finally, I sat down to finish this book soon after having the privilege to witness the passing of my aunt. I conclude it now with a renewed promise to my wife: Jill, you come first in my life and in my heart. To give evidence of that promise, I will make sure that in the last day we spend together, you will know not only why I loved you in the beginning, but why I continued to love you till then.

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The Three Worst National Parks

My wife and I have set out to visit all the US National Parks. We have been to 45 of the 63 parks and will visit two more this year. Because the parks are generally so beautiful and awe-inspiring, we struggle to agree on which are our Top 3 favorite parks. In contrast, we have no debate or delay in concluding which are our three least favorite national parks. Before I get to that list, let me explain our perspective on evaluating national parks.

In our opinion, a national park should be a beautiful, unique, and significant place. The desire that the park be beautiful is self-explanatory. We think it should be unique because who wants to go to the trouble to get to a park that looks just like a location near your home? Unique qualities may be found in the park’s topography, vegetation, wildlife, and nighttime views. We love stargazing in the dark sky parks! Regarding significance, we consider historical, geological, and ecological variables. If so much land is to be set aside and preserved into perpetuity, the space should actually mean something noteworthy.

What a national park should not be is common, unattractive, uninspired, and nothing akin to a theme park. With this in mind, here are what we think are the worst three parks in the national park system:

Congaree National Park, South Carolina

This park is a swamp that pretty much looks like any other swamp you might have visited. The park preserves the largest tract of old growth bottomland hardwood forest left in the United States. Elevated boardwalks pass through old growth forest of bald cypress and water tupelo, allowing guests a 2.4 mile stroll through the park. Frequently, the Congaree River floods the park and submerges the boardwalk. If you love frogs, mosquitos, and cypress trees, you might enjoy Congaree. Unfortunately, as admirers of the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge, we were no impressed with Congaree National Park.

Gateway Arch National Park, St. Louis, Missouri

A 630-foot-tall monument, the Gateway Arch is the world’s tallest arch and tallest man-made monument in the Western Hemisphere. It is an impressive thing to see. No doubt, the Arch is an architectural and engineering marvel. But nothing about it is natural. The trams are small and not suited for passengers who are claustrophobic or have personal space issues. We sat knees to knees with strangers during our ride to the top. The views from the observation room at the top of the arch are far reaching but not particularly attractive. On one side you see the muddy Mississippi River, and on the other, the rooftops of downtown St. Louis building. The Gateway Arch was on our bucket list, we do not regret going there, but it fails as a national park. In our opinion, it is noteworthy only as a landmark.

Hot Springs National Park, Arizona

The hot spring water has been popularly believed for centuries to possess medicinal properties, and the area was the first land to be set aside by the federal government to preserve its use as an area for recreation. Most of the park is actually indoors, as in inside the famous bath houses that line the main street through the park. There are a few hot springs percolating outside, but none are very impressive to see. This park encompasses only a few blocks of downtown Hot Springs and is surrounded by old unkept buildings, some shuttered, and few choices of recreation once you’ve seen a bathhouse. The dining establishments are unremarkable. If you have the resources to visit every national park, then go. But if your travel dollars are limited and you want bang for your buck, skip this amusement park.

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Jesus is in the Boat

Let’s talk about Matthew 8:23-27, the story Jesus Calms the Storm. A quick recap – Jesus is asleep in a boat during a raging storm and his frightened disciples awaken him while shouting “We’re going to drown!” Jesus replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and the storm immediately became completely calm.
 
Now imagine the disciples actually learned all the lessons that Jesus was trying to teach them, and one day a few weeks later they find themselves and Jesus in the same boat, in the same body of water, but encountering a more violent storm. And once again, Jesus is asleep. But this time, the disciples look out at the storm, then back at Jesus, and then to each other. They smile, nod, and kick back to get comfortable. And one says, “Don’t worry; Jesus is in the boat with us!”

How wonderful it would be if we actually learned from the lessons Jesus taught. What gain have we lost by not realizing the trial was a lesson? What benefit is gone because we did not understand our suffering was for our own good? What confidence has been squandered because we conceded to fear? What joy could have been more joyful had we know we were receiving a blessing? What if we were always aware that Jesus is in the boat with us?

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Bothers and Sisters (published 2006)

I began life as a firstborn child. Thankfully, my parents had the foresight to give me a baby brother to assure that I would not live as an only child. They saw that I enjoyed him so much they soon gave me two more. I always had a great time playing with my three younger brothers, climbing trees, digging holes in the backyard, collecting worms and other such little boy stuff. But, being the kind of child who wanted all life had to offer, I eventually asked them for a little sister. They happily gave me one of those, too.

Today, in my mid-forties, I cannot imagine my life without my brothers and sister. The five of us, just over seven years apart from the first to the last, have been comrades since day one. We did all the things happy siblings do together. We rode our bikes every day, spent weekend nights sleeping outside under the stars, celebrated each other’s birthdays, taught one another how to do things, pushed each other around once in a while, fought about who got to sit by the window of the station wagon, played tricks on one another, tattled on one another, kept secrets for each other, and each night shared a home-cooked meal together at the same table with our parents.

We have at different times paired off into different combinations depending on our ages and the life challenges facing us at the moment. Still, we always managed to come back together regularly as a unified bunch. In spite of the years that have passed since we all left the nest of our childhood home, we have not lost the special bond which ties us together. We know this to be true because every time we return to our parents’ home and take our places on the front porch, laughter quickly erupts, teasing pours forth, occasionally a few happy tears flow, and we all linger there together until the very last minute before rising to go our separate ways. And, though we spend more time physically separated than together, we are always on one another’s minds. I know this, too, because we call each other often between visits.

My family of four travels with me when I go to my hometown to visit my parents and siblings. My daughter and step-daughter love to sit alongside me and witness these front porch reunions. This is when they have the pleasure of hearing far too many embarrassing stories about me, when they get to see me in a different, less serious light, and when they get to see how close I am to my family. It is also when, I hope, they are taking note of what rich rewards are waiting for them as they continue to develop their own sibling relationship.

You see, my child was an only child, and so was my step-daughter, until her mother and I married a little over a year ago. Prior to our marriage, my then fiancé and I independently felt some sorrow that our children had not yet enjoyed the experience of growing up with a sibling. As we moved closer to marriage, one of the benefits we looked forward to was the combining of our small families that would result in the girls becoming sisters to one another. In the beginning, the new family was a bit of a challenge for both of them. They suddenly were required to negotiate, take turns, share, compromise, and in some cases, not get exactly what they might have wanted. Although my wife and I were troubled by these little conflicts, we knew it was a necessary and important process for the girls to go through. We shared the belief that siblings give one another a richer context for personal growth than can be had as an only child. We knew that by bringing them together through our marriage, we were better preparing them for their adult lives.

As we move forward in the second year of the formation of our family, I see evidence that the girls in our house are indeed, coming together as siblings. While each retains many of her previous “only child” personal habits, they have also formed new ones, “sisterly” ones. They advise each other on what to wear, share their shoes, shop and get their nails done together, negotiate their plans for the weekend so both get a little of what they want, keep secrets for one another, tattle on one another, laugh aloud as they make fun of the adults in the house, and stick up for one another to make sure neither is left out of anything we might do. Recently one said she looked forward to the day she would become an aunt, a role not long ago she thought she would never get to play.

My brothers and sister have given me a lifelong feeling of continuity. They ground me in a history that keeps me humble, belonging, and appreciative. They provide me with companionship I can always count on and enjoy. They make me laugh. They give me the kind of love that cannot be found elsewhere. More recently, they are doing something for me they probably don’t even recognize. They have embraced my new family with enthusiasm, and treat my step-child as if she has been their niece all along. They help me to create for both these young girls an example of what wonders lie ahead for them as they move forward, as sisters. For this, I thank them. For this, I love them even more.

The photograph of five adults sitting on a columned porch later in this book is of us. The smiles on our faces are real; we were just teasing my two girls who were trying to help me pose that photograph. As you can see, we still have a great time when we are together.

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Life Maps (published 2006)

Over the years I have had the delight of watching my daughter, Meagan Katherine, reach many milestones. I will never forget the first time she called me “Daddy,” her first steps, and when she became potty trained. Her words “I can do it” were spoken with insistence; she wanted the chance to accomplish by herself whatever the task at hand. I was thrilled to see my little girl growing up, yet also happy that she still wanted to hold my hand, ride on my back, and give me kisses.

As these early years passed and she continued to grow, other milestones approached and new tasks required mastery. Some I could just demonstrate for her, like how to tie her shoes, buckle her seatbelt, and use the microwave oven. Others required a bit of practice and explanation, as when she wanted to make her own scrambled eggs, shuffle a deck of cards, and later, use a computer. As my daughter grew up and became more independent and less willing to turn to me for what she wanted and needed, I began to feel the sting of loss. Too soon it seemed I was no longer needed to read her to sleep, walk her to class, or help her with her homework. All too quickly she entered her preteen and then teenage years. I knew other milestones were ahead and new life tasks would challenge her, but by now she had begun to turn more often to her mother for guidance, and I struggled to find a place in her life.

One afternoon while visiting my parents, who live on a remote country road, Meagan and I went for a drive. She was at the wheel. She had been driving in open fields for two years by then, an activity meant to give her as much driving experience as possible before she set out by herself, without Dad by her side to make sure she was safe. On this day I unexpectedly found myself requesting that my young driver turn off the familiar road and onto an unfamiliar one——and then another and another.

Soon she had driven much farther than she ever had before. She was frightened when she first pulled into traffic but smiled eagerly at the same time. She listened intently as I gave instructions and advice, following my directions without complaint or rebuttal. She beamed at me when I praised her as she skillfully negotiated the roadway. Under my tutelage she was learning something new. It reminded me of earlier times. I knew something she wanted to know, and she needed my help to master it; she needed me.

I decided that afternoon that driving was the bridge I needed to reach out to my daughter again, to have the occasion to spend time with her in the way that I missed, having fun together, laughing large, and teaching her something that would prepare her for the day when she would set out on her own. For the next three years we practiced driving every chance we got——driving in the rain, after sunset, practicing parking and hard braking, and learning how to intuit other drivers’ moves. I helped her study for the learner’s permit test. I was with her when she took it, and tried to calm her nerves as we waited for her results. A great sense of accomplishment came over me when she proudly held her permit up for me to see, and in that moment I was where I wanted to be, in her favor, basking in the warmth of her smile.

Meagan now drives nearly every time we get in the car. It was on one of our first extended drives that the need arose for teaching her about road maps. We were taking my eleven-year-old stepdaughter, Linley, to summer camp, and I did not know the way. I spread a state map out on the dining room table and proceeded with Meagan at my side to find a route. We began by looking up our destination in the index, then followed the grid lines to pinpoint it on the map. Once located, we surveyed the various roads we could take from our home to that tiny dot. We settled on a route that included city streets, interstate highways, two-lane mountain roads, and finally a winding dirt road. We chose an alternate route for coming back, one that would wind through the countryside, taking us through little town after little town and eventually home. Meagan was excited; it would be the longest time she had ever been behind the wheel.

The morning of our departure arrived. The girls and I rose early and had breakfast at a local diner before heading  toward the mountains. Linley got some extra sleep in the backseat while I navigated for Meagan. For the next three hours she and I followed the directions we had written down. I helped her recognize the landmarks we were looking for, coached her on keeping up with the distance between turns, and taught her that even-numbered interstates ran east-west while odd-numbered ones ran north-south. Suddenly she asked me what to do if she ever got lost. I reminded her of her cell phone, and then opened the glove box to show her the road maps I keep tucked away in there.

The three of us embraced before leaving Linley at camp, and then Meagan and I set out on our return route home. We listened to music, drove with the windows down, had lunch at a roadside barbeque joint, and stopped to shop at an old country store, complete with a few old men in overalls sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch. We were having fun. Once back on the road we encountered a detour and had to refer to our map again. We selected a new route for the last leg home and continued on our journey.

As Meagan drove she remarked once more that she worried about becoming lost, that she needed to practice using a map. I realized then that I had less than a year to teach my child all I wanted her to know before she became fully licensed and able to drive off without me alongside to help her find her way. I imagined her going into the world alone, driving to her first job, leaving for college, going on road trips with friends between semesters, hoping she would not lose her way. I thought of all the things I wanted to warn her about, the things I wanted to make sure she could handle, and the many other life tasks she would need to master on her own one day.

As I looked out of the car window, the old sting of loss and worry about her eventual departure came back to me. I know I have to let my child go. I cannot keep her under my wing, not that she would she let me. Yet I asked myself, how do I let my daughter go before I am certain she is ready for what she will face? How do I prepare my stepdaughter, Linley? I thought of Meagan’s fear of becoming lost and my own fear of her losing her way. I suddenly wanted to write down some directions for driving, even for living, and stuff them into the folds of the maps in the glove box. I smiled as I imagined her pulling off the road one day to refer to a map, unfolding it and my hand-scribbled notes falling into her lap. “Don’t drive too fast,” “Follow at a safe distance,” “Keep a diary,” “Laugh often,” and “Come home now and then,” they would say.

In that moment the idea of this book came to me. Better a book than random notes in the glove box, I thought, because she could keep a book at her desk, on her nightstand, in her briefcase, or anywhere else close at hand, ready and waiting for her when she wants to reminisce about what we have done together, when she wants to know how much I care about her, or when she needs a hug and I am not near enough to give it to her.

And so here it is, this book that might have been notes tucked away in a road map, a collection of fatherly advice and directions for living a wonderful life, offered with love to my little girls. Meagan, I hope you will read it when you get lost, when you just want to reassure yourself of where you are going, and when you miss me. And Linley, put your shoes on; we are going for a drive. You take the wheel.

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Why I Love Grandma (Original Introduction, 2003)

Thanksgiving is a reunion holiday for my family. It is a time when three generations converge on one house to laugh, play, talk, sing, and share a few enormous meals together. Biscuits as big as your fist with butter and homemade preserves for breakfast, and turkey, ham, cornbread dressing, bowls and bowls of vegetables, and cakes and pies for dinner, all made from my beloved late grandmother’s recipes, serve the seventy or so people who have come together to celebrate.

Sometime during the day the highly treasured family heirloom, The Thanksgiving Book, is brought out and shared, and the storytelling begins, reminding us all of why we have gathered together. An eight-inch-thick photo album, The Thanksgiving Book is filled with photographs of our family, all of which were taken at previous Thanksgiving celebrations. These pictures go back more than thirty years to the first Thanksgiving reunion that marked the beginnings of our tradition, the time we came together to comfort our grandfather and one another as we mourned the loss of my grandmother, Annie Ruth Lambert Brown, known to all as “Grandmomma.”

Although there are members of my family who never met my grandmother, or were so young at the time of her loss that they have no memories to call upon, everyone knows who she was. Each of her four daughters resembles her in their own way, and their children in turn also carry features that someone can point to and say, “Those are Grandmomma’s eyes” or “That’s Grandmomma’s smile.” As the great grandchildren who never knew her savor the sweet taste of a dessert made from a recipe handed down over four generations, they are told about Grandmomma. As the newest cooks in the family learn to make cornbread dressing and giblet gravy from scratch, they hear of how Grandmomma used to make it in the early morning, and of how the smell greeted all as they arrived at her house for a holiday meal.

Grandmomma was a short, plump woman with a face that always bore a smile. She wore horn-rimmed glasses and piled her silver hair high on her head, and nearly always had an apron tied around her waist. There were warm hugs upon greeting and departure, goodnight kisses for the lucky ones who got to spend the night, and a comforting hand on the shoulder of the one who walked next to her into church.

Grandmomma indulged her many grandchildren. I remember my cousin and me sitting at her feet, eating boiled peanuts she had just taken off the stove, as she watched the Lawrence Welk Show. Whether it was homemade peach ice cream, strawberry and rhubarb cobbler, or her famous Texas Pecan cake, there was always a dessert in the house to look forward to after the dinner dishes were cleared from the table. On warm summer afternoons we sat on the front porch and shelled peas or shucked corn and listened to her as she told us about her early days, our grandfather, and our parents.

The first great loss my young heart experienced was on the evening I learned that Grandmomma had died. I was inconsolable and grieved her loss deeply as did the rest of the family, especially my grandfather, who was never the same after that evening. Sometimes I look back and regret that I was so young at the time, too young to know then that time spent with someone you love is precious, because that time is not guaranteed. Realizing this now, I make sure my daughter, Meagan Katherine, has ample opportunities to spend time with her extended family, especially her grandparents.

Known to her as “Granna” and “MaMa,” Meagan has loving and unique relationships with both of her grandmothers. Whether learning to quilt, playing rummy, watching old black and white movies, shopping, or making peppermint candy, my daughter loves the time she spends with her grandmothers, and understands that because of it she grows a little more toward becoming a woman, when she will one day be a mother and then a grandmother and will in turn hand down traditions and delight the heart of a child as only a grandmother can. Once as I watched my child learn from my mother how to make biscuits from scratch and listened as Mother told Meagan of how she learned this skill from her mother, I felt once more the pain of my loss so many years ago, and wished I could sit on the porch and reminisce with Grandmomma again.

My child loves her grandparents just as I loved mine and looks forward to the time she spends with them. She helped me write this book and its companion, Why I Love Grandpa, as a way to memorialize our love for those dear to us. Together we made a list of what each of us enjoyed about our grandmothers, and we thought of what we admired most about the many grandmother-grandchild relationships we observed during the photo shoots for this book.

With this book Meagan Katherine and I celebrate the grandmothers we love and recognize them for the many caring gestures they have extended to us. We also celebrate the wonderful grandmothers we met along the way, those who provide continuous and unselfish affection, who welcome new grandchildren into the family no matter what their origin, who soften the hard lessons of life, who remember their youth and relive it when given the chance to do so, and who speak with a wisdom and understanding that enriches the lives of those who are listening. With this book we hope to give grandchildren a special way to reach out to their grandmothers and speak to them of what is in their hearts.

With each year something about our Thanksgiving tradition changes just a little. Those who were once children make the right of passage and move to sit at the adult tables. A new leader emerges within the youngest generation and rallies the cousins together in mischief. A son now helps the father; a daughter now hustles in the kitchen while the mother rests. A grandfather, the religious beacon in the family, passes the torch to a grandson who offers a prayer before eating. As we witness these changes take place, these signs that our family is ever evolving, someone inevitably says, “I wish Grandmomma could be here to see this.”  We mean this, of course, in the temporal sense, because we know that she is still with us—in our hearts, every day.

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