There's No One Like You, Tobin Bear

My dearest Tobin,

"You are so special," I often whisper to you as I kiss you goodnight.  "There's no one like you!"

I wonder if your newly-turned-three-year-old brain ever thinks, "Why does she say that so often?"  :)  Just in case you do have that thought someday, I'll go ahead and answer the question now.

In a nutshell, I hope you never feel lost in the crowd of boys in this Fisher family.  To state the obvious, you are not the oldest, nor the youngest.  You are one of four boys.  When we found out during my pregnancy with you that we would have our third son, we heard the phrase "another boy" a lot (and you can imagine how often we heard that after your little brother Shav was born!).  I've previously written about that term:  in particular, how I dislike the connotation it gives, and how I delight in the uniqueness inherent in each of our sons (even if we had a dozen, they would be so different from each other!).  I won't say all of that again, but I will simply say that in my eyes and in God's, you are not just another Fisher boy.  You are so special.  Truly, there is no one like you!

~ outside, during one of the warmer days this winter...when the winter temps get into the 50s, it's time to go outside and work off some energy! ~

Would you like me to tell you some of the things that are uniquely you at this stage of life?  Some of the things that stand out to me when I think about you?  Some of the things that I've noticed about you that bring a smile to my face?  The things I don't want to forget?

You do?  Good!  I'll tell you then!

~ at the end of the mini photo shoot for your hot chocolate mug ~ 

You were a "late" walker, of course; and your scooting method of getting around drew a lot of attention.  But more subtly, when you started walking and even as a two-year-old, you had such a jaunty walk.  Without saying a word, your walk seemed to communicate, "I'm important, and I have something to do and somewhere to go."  I haven't seen that certain bounce in your step for a while, but I have fond memories of that jaunty little Tobin walk.

~ when I took this picture of Shav the Boy with Shav the Bear, you wanted me to take a picture of you with one of our Christmas teddy bears, too...I was glad to do so...I'm not sure if you even made the connection, but it just so happened that during this picture, in your right hand, you're holding something that {almost} shares your name:  Toby the train from Thomas the Tank Engine! ~

You have a very cute way of being totally serious and earnest as you explain things and make conversation.  You'll pause, tip your head to the side, act as if you're searching for the right word.  You use filler words, like "and" and "um," as if to keep the attention on you so that you don't lose your audience before you've said all that you want to say.  Your speech is getting clearer; but even when I had a difficult time understanding your words, I still felt like you tried very hard to have deep conversations because you were just so serious about the "words" coming out of your mouth!

More linguistic memories:
~ "No" was an easy word for you, of course.  You would draw it out into quite a long word sometimes.
~ For the longest time, when you wanted to communicate "yes," you would say "ah!"  In fact, it's only been within the past few days that you've switched it to "yeah," and when you made that switch, it was sudden.  It almost seemed like one day it was "ah," and the next it was "yeah."
~ You don't hesitate to say a commanding "c-mere" (for "come here") when you want me to come to you or take a look at something, and sometimes you'll do a little gesture with your hand as well.
~ You used to say "oh, dear!" quite often, but have seemed to drop that habit.  What I've noticed you saying a lot recently is "OK?", particularly at the end of sentences.  You might say, "Me do it, OK?" or "Me not eat it, OK?"
~ One of the sweetest phrases that was uniquely a Tobin thing was adding an extra "you" after the verbs in sentences.  For example, "Daddy loves me" was, coming from your lips, "Daddy love you me," and the request "help me" was "help you me!"

~ on Christmas morning, listening to Daddy read the final portion of Bartholomew's Passage ~

You're growing up so fast and so much!  You're the little guy who used to scoot around and "steal" everybody's shoes, even taking them off people's feet!  And then you would put them on your own feet, almost always backwards, right shoe on left foot, and left on right.  Somehow that changed, and these days I rarely catch you stealing shoes.  :)  Also these days, you usually get your shoes on the correct feet!

Speaking of growing up and maturing...you and David, in particular, still have frequent moments of pushing each other's buttons and rubbing each other like sandpaper.  I am looking forward to the growth that I am sure will be happening this year in this area!  :)  But one little technique I've used to help you in this is the phrase, "After you're done with it, may I please have it?"  When one of your brothers (most often, David) has something that you think you need right then(!), you are slowly but surely learning to resist the temptation to reach out and snatch it from him, but instead to say, "After you're done with it, may I please have it?"  Of course, in your adorable pronunciation in which you frequently leave off the initial consonant sounds, it doesn't come out quite like that; but we know what you mean, and that question goes a long way to preserve peace and harmony between you and your brothers!

~ showing off your new hot chocolate mug on Christmas morning ~

You LOVE to pray!  When we sit down to eat lunch and I call on Josiah to pray, your voice pipes up first.  Or when we're doing school and read Window on the World and start to pray for whatever country we just read about, you always want to pray first, and I usually have to shush you gently so that your brothers can have their turns to go first!  Your prayers are usually very specific, sometimes lengthy, and always full of gratitude.  For example, at lunch you might say, "Thank You, God, for food.  Thank You, God, for milk.  Thank You, God, for cheese.  Thank You, God, for apples.  Thank You, God, for cups.  Amen!"  Or at night, you might thank God for your bunk bed, your Bible, your blankets, "Oddy" (your pronunciation of Shavi), me, and other assorted things that come to your mind.  One night recently, as you were praying before I tucked you in, David and Josiah were both in the room with us because they had listened to me read a bedtime story to you and were waiting their turn for me to tuck them into their beds.  You started praying, and you happened to still be holding your new-to-you-but-really-passed-down-from-your-big-brothers Bible.  You started thanking God for "this page," and then as you turned the page, you thanked Him for the next page, and then another page turn and another prayer of gratitude for that page.  David said out loud what I was only thinking inside when he exclaimed, "This is going to take all night!"  :)

~ eating snow back in December:  your favorite part of being out in the snow was eating it, so when we had to come in because I was concerned you were getting too cold, I decided to scoop up a bowl and let you eat it at the table!  :)

You are very good at falling asleep, and sometimes you even do it in your bed!!  ;-)  Other times, you end up sleeping on the floor, and that doesn't seem to bother you.  Even when you do fall asleep in bed, it's not unusual to find a book or toy on top of you; you don't seem to mind!

Now as a three-year-old, you've almost given up naps (except recently when you've been sick; the past few days you haven't felt well, and you have taken a nap without any protest).  That's earlier than I planned for you to make that transition, but not all three-year-old boys go by their mother's plan books.  :)  The way it happened was like this:  I would tuck you in after lunch for a nap, but you would not fall asleep, so you would look at books in bed for a while (you always seem to accumulate quite a stack in your bed!) and then pop out of bed.  I finally decided that I wasn't going to fight it so I didn't try to force you to get back in bed.  I simply required you to stay in your room and play quietly (although we're still working on training you to do that because you get so tempted to get into the hallway to see what's going on downstairs or to peek into Josiah and David's room to see how the Lego project is going, etc.).  I knew at some point, you would transition from having an afternoon nap to having quiet time just like Josiah and David do; I just didn't know it would be this soon!  However, I've discovered two significant advantages to this.  First, it makes it so much easier for you to go to sleep at night when you haven't had a nap.  Bedtime used to be somewhat challenging because you would call out, need a drink, or invent some excuse for continued people contact when you really should have been quietly falling asleep in your bed!  But without an afternoon nap, you almost always fall asleep at night very quickly, and that's wonderful.  Second, now that you're on the verge of being completely potty-trained, having you awake in the afternoon makes it easy for you to go to the bathroom during those hours if you need to.  You have been in underwear during some naps and stayed dry, but of course it's easier to stay dry if you're awake and can go to the bathroom when necessary!

Speaking of potty training...you were the easiest child we've potty trained so far!  Some months ago, when I was still in the stress of adjusting to four young children in the house, I started the potty training process with you; but I quickly realized that stressing out about it and rushing you was just not worth it.  So I backed off!  In this area, I let you take the lead; and it was such a peaceful, enjoyable process (of course, you had accidents occasionally, but overall you really did great).  I could hardly believe it.  :)    Back in mid-September, we wanted to encourage you along a little bit since the process seemed to be lagging, so we brought out the big guns:  M&Ms for incentive.  :)  One if you peed in the potty, and two if you pooped in the potty.  The results were dramatic:  the very next day, you had your first really successful day.  No accidents at all, and you even wore underwear on an outing to play mini golf, and you stayed dry.  Fantastic!  And totally worth the M&Ms we've given you during the past four months.  :)  These days, I only put you in a diaper for nighttime which I don't mind doing.  I did notice on the morning of January 9 that your diaper was dry, so maybe I'll get brave and try you in underwear all night long fairly soon.  We'll see...I'm not in a rush...I'm just proud of you for how you've taken responsibility in this area and done so well!!  :)

~ one of your favorite after-dinner activities is listening to Grandma read you a story (the other one is tickling/wrestling with Daddy!) ~

Here are a few videos to capture the essence of you:  you take brushing your teeth very seriously (after you do it a while, I finish up)  :)...

...and you have a blast playing with your brothers.  You're especially quick to learn from and imitate Josiah and David, and you try to keep up with them in their games and activities.

Finally, here's one more oh-so-precious thing about you.  When I ask, "What's your name?", your response is always, "Tobin Bear!"  The way you pronounce "Tobin" is more like "Bobin," but you always add "Bear" at the end.  :)

Ah, yes, you are my Tobin Bear.  One of a kind, formed by God from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, infinitely valuable in His sight and in ours, you are indeed a unique creation.

I love you more and more as each day passes and as you grow and develop and change and show your personality.  I will never stop thanking God for giving me the privilege of being your mommy.  You are an amazing gift that God gave me on your birthday!

Tobin Bear, I adore you!

With a heart full of love,
Mommy

Three Is

Three is the first birthday that a child understands.

Three is bundling up in a heavy coat and new boots, and waiting for Daddy.

Three is the long-awaited day of the first Daddy-Tobin breakfast outing.

Three is riding in the "Beep" (or, as the J-pronouncing population calls it, "Jeep").

Three is opening your own gifts.

 Three is a good age to receive The Boy Who Changed the World.

Three is taking birthdays seriously.

Three is starting to receive an allowance ($.30 per week, $.10 per year of life), and needing a bank in which to put it.

Three is being watched with interest by your little brother.

Three is a Hermie & Wormie puzzle.

Three is a snuggly ostrich from Grandpa and Grandma.

Three is needing Daddy to read the cards.

Three is being excited about a big package.

Three is loving Fisher-Price tools.

Three is bopping your head to a card that sings.

 Three is chocolate cake with chocolate icing and sprinkles.

Three is blowing out the candles all by yourself.

Three is playing with your new toy right away.

Three is Tobin!

Three is BIG!

And one more...

Three is ADORABLE.  ;-)

The Last Night as a Two-Year-Old

Once upon a time, I wrote a similar post to this one, only in that case, it was for David on the night before his 4th birthday.  Somehow, time rushed on, and here I sit on the eve before Tobin turns 3.  He'll never be 2 again.  Rather than be melancholy about that, I'm going to celebrate it--rather, celebrate him.  And so, my dear Tobin, this is for you:  one last look at you as a two-year-old, right before I tucked you in bed tonight.

It's a little strange to look back on this post announcing my pregnancy with you...

...and this post announcing your birth...

...and realize that those posts were about YOU!  We barely knew you then--just the tip of the iceberg--but without a doubt, we have delighted, during the past three years, in the gradual unveiling of your personality and all the unique attributes that make you you.  You are so very special, Tobin Bear...

...and so very, very loved!

Sweet Hearts

Sometimes I worry about the future.

I realize that that statement does nothing to set me apart as unique...and everything to show that I'm just like almost every other person on this beautiful spinning ball we call Earth.  But even though worrying is a common condition for us humans, I believe it's not only wrong, but also completely useless!  It doesn't change anything.

When I think about the days to come, I never worry about money, rarely worry about health, but often feel concern about how my kids will turn out.  Not only do I hope they'll be kind and honest and friendly and helpful, I also, to borrow Sally's words from a comment on my last post, "want my children there in that spiritual family SO BADLY."  I know exactly how she feels.

At times, I wonder how the teen years will go for us.  In the same way that I don't buy into the mindset that the toddler years have to be atrocious, I also don't believe that the teen years have to be horrible.  But I do realize that there is a natural, God-ordained, breaking-away process that occurs during those years, and I wonder whether I--and my sons--will be able to handle that with grace and dignity.

When thoughts of the future crowd into my mind and threaten to tarnish the present, this thought comes back to me over and over and brings comfort to replace my anxiety:  I still have their hearts.

I don't know what the future holds.  I don't know how they'll act in 10 years.  I don't know what kind of heartbreak may come to me as I watch them make choices to which I'm totally opposed.

But here and now, on this day in January 2011, I still have their hearts.  They are still tender towards me.  They are not, however, little robots who obediently do whatever I ask them without ever complaining or arguing.  They're human--I'm human--and unfortunately, sin abounds too often in our household.  But even in the midst of that, even when they act selfishly towards their brothers, even when they're slow to obey, even when they have an attitude about doing a chore they dislike...even then, their hearts are still soft.

I wish I could adequately capture the times when I see this softness demonstrated so beautifully.  I try to write down their words; but it's more than words that expresses what I'm trying to communicate--it's their tone of voice, their facial expression, the tilt of their shoulders, the excitement barely contained in their little bodies.  I feel my attempts fall pitifully short, but what else do I have to help me remember these times?

Here are some recent examples of their sweet, sweet hearts:

David, who is social to the nth degree, was over at a friend's house when a pretty major argument broke out between two sons in that family.  Their mother apologized to me later and expressed her regret that my boys had had to see that, but I certainly wasn't casting blame because we have our fair share of rivalry around here for sure!  When I was talking about it later with David, he said in a quivering voice, "Maybe for the first time ever, I just wanted to come home."  This is the boy who wistfully exclaims whenever we're leaving a place to come home, "I wish I could live here!"  He has said that about numerous friends' homes, as well as the park, a play area in the Charlottesville mall, the cousins' house, the playground at the homeschool co-op we used to be a part of, etc.  He LOVES being with people, so for him to be so disturbed by the fight he witnessed showed me the soft side of his heart.

Another example involving David:  a while back, he had a dream about heaven, and this is what he told me about the dream.  In it, God said he could come back to earth for three days, but David wanted four so he could go to Disney World on one day, Disneyland on another day, and Aunt Lori's for two days.  Then he said he wanted one more so he could spend it with me!  In the dream, God wasn't wearing the blue "sash" that Jesus is often pictured with, just a white robe; and his voice was booming.  David got teary-eyed because he wants us to all go to heaven together, and I was thinking, "Oh, how sweet," then he said that the way that he got killed was by a Jedi!  Not so sweet after all.  :)

Heaven is very real to David.  In fact, after we almost got into a head-on collision on Switchboard Road back in November, he said, "I almost wish I would have died so that I could have gone to heaven and seen God already."  It reminded me of this conversation we had back in November of 2009.

Today David told me that, when he grows up, he wants to live in the little gray house my parents just moved out of.  That would be wonderful for him to live there, but I couldn't help but think of another little child who once told her parents she would never leave but would build a house on the top of their hill and stay with them always.  That girl, amazingly enough, grew up and decided that she could indeed leave them, drawn by her heart to such far-away places as California and Israel!  :)  When David strikes out on his own, I won't hold him to the desire he expressed today.  :)

Another way my boys demonstrate their sweet hearts is by public displays of affection...and when it involves my sons and me, I'm a big fan of PDA!  :)  At concerts, they want to sit close, even sitting on my lap.  During one of our potlucks, Josiah paused as he walked by me during the Bible study portion and kissed my cheek.  When we're going into his violin lessons, he sometimes reaches for my hand as we cross the street.  As long as they want to express their love to me in that way, I'll gladly receive it!

Josiah sometimes asks questions about the future--his future--and I can tell he's trying to plan out how he's going to live his life.  For example, in the middle of a conversation, he might blurt out, "How long can people be engaged?"  And he'll have this certain look in his eyes and a tiny smile at the corner of his lips, and I'll know that he's asking because he's thinking about her ("her" being a wonderful girl that has captured Josiah's eight-year-old heart but who shall remain nameless on this blog).  :)

One day, Josiah and David were talking about their weddings, and the conversation turned to maybe having their brothers be best men/groomsmen in their weddings.  They were concerned because they didn't know what girls to choose for bridesmaids! I reassured them that their bride could choose all the girls.  :)  Josiah was relieved because the girl he wants to marry has sisters that she could ask to be in the wedding!

On another day, Josiah and David got into some tiff; of course, I don't remember what it was about because such tiffs are rarely about anything truly important!  But for some reason, when it was time to apologize and forgive and hug and move on, Josiah was unexpectedly stubborn and would not humble out to open his arms and hug David.  I was so surprised and saddened by this hardness of heart that I literally started crying.  I know that women can use tears in a manipulative manner, and I do not want to do that with my sons any more than with my husband!  So I wasn't trying to put on a show to make Josiah sorry for what he had done; I was just genuinely shocked by his behavior, and my tears fell.  That unlocked the door to his heart, and his whole demeanor changed as his stubbornness melted away and he dissolved into my arms--and soon into his brother's arms for a conciliatory hug.  Needless to say, I was relieved that the hardness was so quickly replaced by softness again!

Last example:  our family has been dealing with some sickness recently, and we're such a sharing bunch that we just seem to pass it around to everyone in our household!  Fortunately, it's not a throwing-up sickness, for which I'm tremendously grateful; but the fevers, aches, coughing, and runny noses we've had aren't a barrel of laughs either.  This morning, David was feeling poorly, so before he even ate breakfast, he wanted me to snuggle with him.  I gladly would; but at the time, I had to give Shav his breakfast and do a few other things that I can't think of at the moment.  It gladdened my heart to hear Josiah say to David, "I'll snuggle with you!"  They did, and then Tobin joined them...

...and then they clamored for me to put Shav with them.  I obliged.  :)

In a day that held its customary share of tumultuous  moments, this was an oasis of peace; and just like Mary, I "treasured up all these things and pondered them in [my] heart."

These boys are so precious to me; and tonight, what I'm most grateful for is their softness.  Sure, I hope they'll grow up to be mighty men, ready to go out and conquer the world; but I also hope that I--and much more importantly, God--will always have their hearts.  

They'll always be my sweethearts, but beyond that, I hope they'll always keep their sweet hearts.  But for today, all I can do is reject worry and instead take care to notice and appreciate that I still have their hearts.  What a gift!  What a responsibility.

I Don't Take This for Granted {Updated}

* Updated* 

As it turns out, I didn't do a very good job of guessing who had written what notes, particularly in relation to Bibles #10 and #11.  Thankfully, my mother sat down with me this evening after supper and set me straight about the real author, so I have now gone back through this post and rewritten some parts to make the necessary corrections.  The part that really touched me is that my granddad had written most of the notes, whereas I had assumed that it was my grandma.  By the time I was old enough to be thinking deeply about spiritual matters, my granddad had already progressed fairly far in his Alzheimer's Disease; so, even though I have numerous pleasant memories of him, I don't remember many significant spiritual conversations with him.  To have this glimpse into his thoughts regarding God, the Bible, and his family makes these pictures even more special to me.

* Original post*

This is the kind of post which will likely make my mother cry.

This is the kind of post which will likely be rather boring to most other readers.

This is the kind of post which I will likely look back upon in years to come and be extremely thankful for!

Before Jeff's mother came for her month-long stay last fall, Jeff and I worked extensively in our library, which also functions as our guest room, to get rid of a lot of stuff and organize the remaining items to make it a pleasant, welcoming, functional room for her.  We accomplished a lot, but there is still much more to do in that room.  However, we were able to meet our goal of getting rid of enough stuff to eliminate some bookshelves that stuck out into the middle of the room.  With them gone, the room seemed adequately spacious and neat, though not fancy in the least.

Most of the time, Jeff and I are terrible at getting rid of books.  I scan the shelves and find plenty of books we could get rid of, but it just so happens that they all belong to him and he wants to keep them.  He looks around and sees numerous books we no longer need, but they are mine and I can't imagine life without them.  We make quite a pair.  :)

We're getting better at it though; and even when it's a sacrifice, we're learning to take the plunge and say, "OK, we can give that away.  Let someone else be blessed by it."

Like with these Bibles...

Oh my goodness gracious me!  We have shelves full of Bibles; and since both Jeff and I are passionate about the Word of God, we view these books as precious treasures.  Nevertheless, it was time to thin the ranks and pass along a few that could be used and loved by someone else.

Here are some of the Bibles we got rid of (and let it be known that the act of taking pictures of them and writing about them eased some of the pain of separation!) ...  :)

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Bible #1 - the Bible my parents gave me when I was 10 years old

While memorizing the Sermon on the Mount for school one year, I (over)zealously used my highlighter, which has faded to a dull yellow.

Having these tabs along the edge surely made it easier to find each book.  The only disadvantage was that it disqualified me from using my own Bible for Mrs. Fawley's Sword Drills.  (Not familiar with Sword Drills?  It's simply a competition to see who can find a verse first when the teacher calls out a reference.  Mrs. Fawley would say, "Romans 8:28!" for example, and the class would scramble to see who could find it first.  Lots and lots of fun, and a great learning tool as well!)

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Bible #2 - the Bible I got when I was 13 years old; among other places, I carried this with me to Mexico during a missions trip when I was 14

After growing up with the good ol' KJV, reading the text of the Good News Bible was quite a switch--a change I enjoyed!

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Bible #3 - the NIV Study Bible my parents gave me on my 17th birthday

I was still using this one a few years later, as evidenced by the note I wrote beside Psalm 45:10-11:  "received 22 July 96 during Jeff's first visit."  :)

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Bible #4 - the Bible I remember Mother using when we were children

Much harder than getting rid of my own Bibles was saying farewell to the ones belonging to my parents and other relatives.  So I took the easy way out:  I photographed them to blog about, then sent them home with my parents so that they could figure out what to do with them!  :)

I didn't know, until I saw the above inscription, that Mother was nine years old when she was baptized.

The illustrations in this Bible were woven into the fabric of my mind as a child; and perhaps they, in part, inflamed my imagination enough to make me determined to someday visit Israel.

This Bible had occasional notes in the margins, written in my mother's neat writing.

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Bible #5 - another Bible I remember my mother using; unfortunately the cover sustained some damage over time

She had passed this one along to me, and I enjoyed using it because of the memories of her using it.  I wonder who gave me these flower petals pressed into it?  ;-)

I can see clearly, in my mind, her sitting with her Bible and a small ruler, carefully underlining verses that particularly stood out to her.  It must be the firstborn in her that compelled her to be so neat.  :)

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Bible #6 - this one belonged to my paternal grandmother, given to her in 1923

I'm so glad for this inscription inside it that tells the history of it.

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Bible #7 - this Bible, the edges now crumbling, once belonged to my paternal grandfather

Granddad apparently used this in college and after.  To think of him as a young man, carrying this Bible around, turning its pages, studying its words - wow, what a treasure!

I had never heard of a Precious Promise Bible.  Until I saw this one, that is.  :)

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Bible #8 - this Bible with an olivewood cover was intriguing; who in my family would have something like that?

My maternal grandfather apparently, who received it from his uncle.

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Bible #9 - this Bible came in a box

I soon discovered why:  it was falling apart!  That's a badge of honor for a Bible, however.  No shame there!

I found an interesting piece about the Church of the Brethren ( my grandparents on both sides were members of this denomination).

But I still didn't know to whom the Bible belonged until I saw this inscription:

I never knew my great-grandfather, but I'm thrilled that he gave this Bible to his daughter, my maternal grandmother.  

This article, "The Bible as Literature," had been tucked into this Bible, and was interesting to read.

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Bible #10 - this Bible had a plain cover

I discovered gems within!  Notes my granddad had written...

...about a wide range of topics...

...even "The warfare of Spirit filled believers..."

 ...and "Speaking in tongues."  I didn't know Granddad thought much about those topics!  :)

A list of his grandchildren (and this was especially touching:  Premature baby boy Coy and Premature baby girl Coy were also listed)...

A record of births of his immediate family, including two sons-in-law...

A record of marriages, including my uncle who got married in Peru...

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Bible #11 - another Bible with cover falling apart

Granddad's name, in very faint letters, on the front.

The treasure inside this one was all the notes--most written by Granddad, but this one was by Grandma: "The Lord's service a Daily one"...

 I was very interested to see that Granddad wrote a polite note expressing dissatisfaction with the prescribed lessons for Sunday school.  In his words, "There is a very great lack of scripture in these quarterlies.  If we take the Scripture out of our Sunday School lessons it is like taking the wheat out and leaving the chaff."  History repeats itself, they say; and I can hear my husband's voice saying the exact same thing about a year and a half ago!

Here's a study he did on "What the Holy Spirit Does for Us"...

 ...one on "Sin"...

 ..."Conversion"...

...and a scrap of paper that simply said, "A PLACE OF PRAYER" and "ABRAHAM BUILT AN ALTER (sic) UNTO GOD."

 Then I found a piece of paper that had "Deuteronomy 6:4-7" at the top, followed by what looked like an announcement (or plea, rather) for more involvement in the Sunday school program, beneficial for both the training of children and adults.  Words and sentences were crossed out and rewritten, arrows pointed here and there, phrases were inserted at various places.  Did my granddad work and rework this to get the wording just right?  Did he stand up and give this announcement?  No matter.  What really caught my attention and stirred my heart was the last line:  "Come and join us in this service for our master and let us prepare for that home above."

A few days ago, we marked 12 years since my grandmother's passing from this life to the next.  How poignant to be reading her words and those of my granddad and touching their Bibles and getting insight into their spiritual heartbeat, even as I remembered her death.  Without a doubt, she--and my other family members whose Bibles I held in my hands--did indeed "prepare for that home above."  May I faithfully do likewise.

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And so, back to the title of this post:  I Don't Take This for Granted.  What don't I take for granted?

First of all, the abundance of Bibles we possess, marking our comparative economic prosperity and the ready availability of Bibles here in this country, as well as the amazing freedom we have to own and read and live out the words of the Bible.  When I think of what people throughout history have done--and what people in other countries do even now--just to have one Bible, I feel like the most spoiled little girl imaginable.  But if it helps, I know I'm blessed, I appreciate it, and I don't take it for granted.

Second, the legacy of faith that has been passed down to me on both my mother and my father's side is unique in today's world and exceedingly valuable.  I had nothing to do with it, of course; but how grateful I am that my parents and my grandparents (and going back further than that, although I don't know the specifics) were people of deep faith, who not only owned Bibles, but read them, studied them, pored over their contents, and lived lives guided by them.

I didn't realize this until I started preparing this post, but I had Bibles from all four grandparents, as well as my mother.  (My dad, to be sure, has always read and lived by the Bible, too; I guess he just hasn't given me any of them!)  It's not just the Bibles that are precious to me, of course; it's also the times I remember hearing my grandparents read aloud those words and pray from their hearts to the God who wrote those words.  How blessed am I!

I discovered one other gem as I looked through these Bibles:  a small booklet from the little country church my maternal grandparents always attended.

 Inside was a list of members, and there in the "W" section, I saw the names of my grandparents, their two children living at home (my mother was already married by this time), as well as brothers, a sister, and other members of the Winters family.  This is a picture of legacy.

This is a picture of treasure.

And I am determined to never take this for granted.