Posted on 05/02/2021 7:32:44 AM PDT by Mrs. Warrior
My husband and I are of the latter end of the baby boomer generation. “What does that mean” my grand daughters asked? “We came out yelling!” I replied.
My husbands' family settled in upstate New York where they have a lovely farm on top of a mountain overlooking a valley; there were fascinating structures left from previous generations to explore and to hear the story of.
During a visit to my husbands' home when we were first dating, my husband agreed to let me ride a Honda Mini-cycle. I had no experience on such machines. He showed me how to get on and start it, and apply the throttle and as I went flying down the road, I started to get, scared. I yelled “how do you stop it?” He was running behind me “yelling slow down so I can show you”. I left the dirt road and went into a field and as I was bumping over corn rows, a ditch filled with water was looming ahead. I thought that was a good place to land in. Quickly into the ditch I rode and when the front tire hit the other edge I came to a rather abrupt stop and titled and fell over into the water. I learned that having a exit plan is important.
Several years and several children later I sojourned at my In-laws while my husband was overseas. I was exploring the lower section of the old dairy barn and in the silo I found a plastic rocking horse for kids on a bouncy metal frame that my husband and his brothers used to play on when they were children. I got it out and cleaned it up and soon our own children became the next generation to play horse.
The greatest treasure God led me to was my husband and our story began there, in central New York. After serving more than two decades in the military and having adventures as young people, but never having found the place we could call our own, we finally found the place where we wanted to retire at and bought a small farm in the Ozarks of Missouri.
We started a home place where our quickly maturing children could have roots at. Another generation has come along too. When my grand daughters play dress up in the vintage wedding dresses, sometimes the fragrance of the woman who had dreams of love are all that lingers.
I have created dresser drawers for the grand-daughters to explore. For the girls there are little story book dolls with eyes that open and jewelry for them to daydream with. For our grandson my husband has left him his army compass that he used to navigate with all over the world in places that he served in.
When I was a little girl growing up in New England, I would run to the nearby creek and swim then pick flowers for my mother on the way home.
Now, we have planted many flowers, bushes and fruit trees and on a balmy summer night we watch the grand children chase fireflies; amazing little light bugs that in their ethereal glory shine for a moment then produce the next generation of light bearers. As the fragrance wafts on the breeze the the plants are the garden of today, and the seeds for our family heritage.
We have prepared food that we grow and can to enjoy during the winter months reminding us to look forward to the next spring and season of new birth and refreshment.
When I think of my family grieving if I would be the first to pass over into the eternal arms of my Lord and Savior, I would say to them to remember the stories I told. They are still there floating around you in the memories of your heart.
Like in the military, oftentimes one would go on to the next assignment before the family could follow, so will heaven be for a believing family. Jesus said He was preparing a place for us to be forever with Him, He walked among mankind to make a way where there was none, to save those that were lost. S Now as aging “baby boomers” watching a new generation of Americans have their season, we wonder how will this story be told. Jesus was the forerunner, making sure the pathway was safe for us to follow, when you walked I held your hand, when you get older I will carry you when you cannot fly your soul, angels will fly it for you, Home is where our hearts are held forever in the arms of God.
Thanks for the Sunday School lesson! I’ll pass it on!
Thanks for posting. I enjoy your analogies.
Mrs. Warrior, I always look forward to reading your wonderfully inspiring, real-life stories. Thank you.
Very pleasant read. Thank you!
Bkmk
Cut & paste for others.
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