Where Is Your Treasure?

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.lovecloud Matthew 6:21

I’ve spent a good bit of time wondering what to say today. Circumstances with my daughter have changed since last week’s post. She stands at a precipice and must put her words into action. Although, she claims a desire to fix her life so she can be with her children, I’m waiting to see if she will take even the first step. The question is what is in her heart? Where is her treasure?

If she can find treasure in restoration with her family, she has a chance. If she allows the world to tempt her with addiction and poor choices, her treasure will not be with us.

She is the only one who has control over where her heart leads her.

She is the only one who has control over which decision she makes.

She must navigate the obstacles, not us.

She must prove her treasure resides with her children by her actions.

Many people don’t understand why a parent doesn’t jump in and help a grown child who asks for help. We could, but we’ve been down that road. If a child who is visibly doing things to straighten out their life asks for help, that’s one thing. If the child continues to blame others for their problems, continues to believe their parents must help them, it’s a totally different story.

We’re not heartless. We care. We love her. We must let her choose where her treasure is.

 

Houses Divided at Christmas

Image courtesy of imagerymajestic / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image courtesy of imagerymajestic / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Many people suffer from depression during the Christmas season. Some are experiencing their first Christmas after a loved one has died. Others worry about the family dynamic on Christmas day–Will Uncle Ralph pick a fight?  Will Cousin Sarah get drunk? For others, the limitations of getting everyone together can create stress and disappointment.

Anyone who’s divorced with children knows the heartache of Christmas. Where will the children be? How do we divide up the time? As the children grow up, marry, and start their own families, it becomes even harder. Which family will they spend Christmas with? Who will we have to leave out? Add to this married children of divorce who have married a child of divorce, and the problem is staggering.

Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. For from now on in one house there will be five divided, three against two and two against three… Luke 12:51-52

Even though these verses don’t refer to this specific situation, this is another example of why divorce is not God’s plan. We are facing it, ourselves. After many years of Christmases with most of our family gathered together, we’ve hit an interesting crossroads. One child is saving her money to come home for a wedding in April, instead. The others are headed to various family members’ homes, just not ours. Aging parents can’t make the trip.

I know Christmas is not about who is where. It’s about the birth of Christ, and the world’s awareness of God’s gift of salvation. It’s a time of blessings.

But it’s also a time when families gather together.

So, we will be trying out new traditions this year. New ways of approaching the day. On the plus side, we won’t have to rush to get dressed and get the turkey in the oven before family arrives. We can take it slower. And we will see most everyone over the next week. We get a prolonged Christmas.

Someone you know is facing a Christmas alone or separated from loved ones. Reach out to them, share with them your lives, and, most importantly, share the story of Jesus and the hope he brings.

 

Inspiring Women: Remembering My Aunts

Last week, my Aunt Vivian passed away. She was 92. The picture below shows my mother’s family when I was a little girl.  Aunt Vivian is standing, fourth from the left. (I’m the kid seated to the far right on the front row.)

Back row L-R: my parents, Bob, Vivian, Great Aunt Locky, my grandparents, Wayne, Deloris, Bill, Barbara

Back row L-R: my parents, Bob, Vivian, Great Aunt Locky, my grandparents, Wayne, Delores, Bill, Barbara

As I prepared to attend her memorial service, the realization floored me that all of my aunts are gone from this world.  This led me to reflect on each one of them and their impact on my life. I had four aunts, three by marriage.  I knew some of them better than others, but each one of them was important to me.

We lost  Aunt Margaret, my father’s sister, first. She went early in life, and I’ve missed her laughter.  To this day, I can still hear her, probably because she brought fun and laughter everywhere she went. We carried on a pen pal correspondence when I was young and she never spoke down to me. Margaret remembered us at Christmas, too.  Her gift box, which arrived soon after Thanksgiving, contained beautifully wrapped gifts with tags that gave cryptic clues about our presents. It was delightful torture trying to figure out what was in the gift. I still have the sewing basket she gave me when I was ten and that year’s gift tag with its clue (see below). Aunt Margaret, also, played and taught piano. I took lessons for nine years, although not from her since she lived a long way from us, and she was a great encouragement to me.

An early family photo. Margaret is on the couch between my grandfather and her husband, Cody.

An early family photo. Margaret is on the couch between my grandfather and her husband, Cody. I’m on the floor on the left.

auntmargaretclueinside

The clue on my gift one Christmas.

 

About ten years later, I lost my Aunt Barbara, which, again, was way too soon. I identified with her because of our shared name. In our family, we had Aunt Barbara, my mom who went by Babs but was Barbara, and me. Her husband, my Uncle Bill, still reminds me that I have his favorite name. I didn’t know Aunt Barbara well, but I remember her as a practical and elegant woman who was kind to me. My best memory of her is odd.  We were visiting their home and my stomach started bothering me.  She gave me Mylanta, which I had never had.  My cousins wrinkled their noses and warned me it tasted awful. I liked the chalky flavor. I don’t use Mylanta very often, but I can’t see a bottle of it without thinking of Aunt Barbara.

My Aunt Delores succumbed to cancer several years later, yet, she too, went before her time. I remember Delores as  movie star gorgeous–elegant and graceful. She had two sons, and the youngest was the only cousin close to my age on either side of the family.  She always spoke to me as if we knew each other well.  We didn’t, but I appreciated her ability to make me feel comfortable and welcome in her presence. She was married to my mother’s younger brother, Uncle Wayne. Mom was very close to Wayne, so maybe that’s another reason I felt a closeness with Delores.

Which brings me to Aunt Vivian, the spitfire. Even the comments made at her service reinforced this part of her nature. She was married to Uncle Bob, an incorrigible jokester, so I think either he picked a spunky woman or she developed her spunk to contend with his antics. Vivian outlived her husband, a son, my parents, and her other two sisters-in-law. During her service, several people spoke. Her granddaughter’s words reminded me that Vivian shared something unusual with me:  raising grandchildren. However, Vivian’s significance to my life holds another place in my memory. During a family get-together when I was in my late twenties, she said to me, “When are you going to publish your book?” Surprised, I asked her how she knew that I write.  Her answer became the first lines in my writing bio:

Barbara V. Evers, began story-telling at the age of four.
She couldn’t read, so she roped others into taking dictation.

I have no recollection of dictating stories to Vivian, but she remembered it over twenty years later, enough to believe that I would be published. I was thrilled when I could finally tell her about my first publication.

Today, two of my uncles remain, Uncle Bill and Uncle Wayne, Mom’s oldest and youngest brothers respectively.

As we grow older, we begin to realize the impact of various people in our lives.  Each one of my aunts affected me in some way, either large or small, as did (and do) my uncles.

I was blessed to know them and find it hard to believe most of them are gone. I’m just glad they were part of my life.

Do you have family members who have made an impact in your life? If they’re still with you, make sure they know how much you value them.