November 2007

I have a feeling that God values patience and perseverance far more than I do. As Christians, sometimes we joke about not praying for patience because it will just bring trials – based on a verse in James that say=-, “the trial of your faith produces patience,” or as some versions say, “endurance.”

The Apostle Paul talks about the race of faith and how we are to run so as to win the prize, while the writer of Hebrews says, “let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

I’ve been on this journey of faith for many years, and at times it seems like I’m on track, moving along with relative ease. But certain things in life test my endurance – relationship issues, concern for the faith (or lack thereof) of family and friends, health challenges, and the everyday pressures of life. But the one thing that has put my faith to the biggest test has been my writing journey.

Twenty-three years ago God tapped me on the shoulder, figuratively speaking, and told me to dig up a gift I had buried – the gift of crafting with words. It was rusty from lack of use, but I obeyed Him anyway and slowly sanded the rust away until it became well-oiled and useful. I followed what I thought was God’s plan to write fiction and studied and wrote and wrote and wrote. I’ve been driven at times, discouraged at others, especially once I began to seek publication. The journey down that path has been rocky and steep.

But if I’ve learned anything as I’ve trudged this path, it is that God values three things and wants me to learn them. He has used means I would not have chosen and set me in His waiting room far longer than I would have liked in order to teach me patience, prayer, and perseverance.

This summer I have had those three things put to an even greater test, and I’m sorry to say that I still have much to learn. But one thing is certain – learning to pray, to wait patiently, and to persevere is of great value to God. He wants us to keep going, keep trusting, keep waiting on Him, even when it seems hopeless.

I don’t always like the wallpaper in God’s waiting room, but I sense the lessons He is teaching me there are worth more than any earthly prize I might get if I had more instant success. He knows what He’s doing, whether I do or not.

And in the meantime, I pray…and wait…

My life since September has been a bit of a whirlwind! Shortly after my father-in-law passed away, my husband decided he wanted to return to his parents’ birthplace and visit some of his remaining relatives and see his old childhood vacation stomping grounds. So this past weekend, we did just that.

Randy’s mom and dad grew up in a small town in Ohio where both of his grandfathers worked on the railroad. (We have that in common as one of my grandfathers also worked on the railroad only in upper Michigan and maybe Wisconsin.) Randy has inherited his grandfathers’ love of trains, so part of our trip was visiting railroad tracks and bridges. I’m not sure how he can walk so fast over the rocky ground that is alongside a railroad track. I had a hard time keeping up with his long strides, doing my best not to turn an ankle! I managed to slip once when crossing the tracks and rammed my ankle into the track. Didn’t know they greased the things! Now I’ve been trying to figure out how to get the grease out of my blue jeans. Hmm…

One of the train bridges we found has a story behind it. The bridge is rather narrow (I’ll try to upload a picture tomorrow) and long. When Randy’s dad was a boy, he used to find evergreen trees to sell as Christmas trees to area residents. He told us that he would cross the bridge to get to the trees to cut down and then haul them back across the bridge. One day he was in the middle of the bridge when he saw a train coming and had to hurry to get to safety. There was no way he could drag that tree over the bridge in time, so he dropped it over the side to the ravine below and made a run for it! From the looks of the bridge, he would have seen the train coming with little time to spare, depending on how fast the train was moving. While we were there, a train did come down the tracks and went over the bridge. It was an awesome sight. I can imagine his dad trying to get off those tracks!

We also visited a few of the beaches on the shores of Lake Erie. Randy’s grandmother used to own a cottage on a bluff overlooking the lake. Randy has wonderful memories of summers spent visiting the cottage until he was about ten years old when the family was forced to sell it to pay for his grandmother’s funeral. The man who bought it had it torn down and today all that is left is an empty lot and a stone that used to be in front of the step leading to the porch. But Randy’s memories are still intact as are some of the other original neighboring cottages.

We walked out onto one of the breakwalls that jutted into Lake Erie, climbing over huge rocks – where did they find them so big? The weather was absolutely gorgeous – in the 50s and sunny all weekend – the trees were various vibrant shades of yellow, orange, red, and green. And on the drive home we had a blazing sunset guiding us much of the way.

We actually did our sight-seeing in two adjacent small towns catching up with family still located there. One of the towns still has a street with the original brick that covered it during horse and buggy days. A few other streets have brick showing beneath some of the blacktop that has worn away.

The architecture of the harbor part of town is quite old and quaint. A step back into an era his parents would have known quite well. It’s hard to imagine how much change has occurred in the past hundred years.

We returned last night from our trip down memory lane. It was a good trip and one we will long remember.