We went to a wedding today.
It was beautiful, as all weddings are.
The bride and groom desperately in love. Families gathered from around the country. Friends congregating, sharing and serving.
Dresses, hairdos, suits, flowers, food, music, dancing, singing, loving, laughter
A sister of our pastor, whom we see mostly at weddings and at some holidays was there with her husband and two beautiful girls.
And my heart was moved.
Of course she knew about the helicopter crash six years ago but her first question was.....how is Elizabeth? How are you? I heard Rob had surgery on his shoulder. How is he doing? We really enjoyed having Jon and Jill for dinner. How is it that our little life's events are the subject of conversation in another family circle living 300 miles away? Somehow we, the Nordbergs, are involved with the Sinclairs and their extended family and I was humbled to think that my life, my concerns, my heartaches , my joys are important to someone I see maybe once a year. We are connected.
She doesn't know how much her questions and her knowledge about our family meant to me. God sends just the right people, at just the right time. Sometimes we are waiting, hoping for that future grace and glory that is to come. For the joy set before us.
But sometimes it comes in the here and now
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Monday, November 11, 2013
Veterans Day 2013
My dad was a B17 Bomber pilot in World War II.
He flew in the Mighty Flying Fortress.
He flew 35 missions over Germany and 1 over Norway, looking for the German submarines hidden in the deep waters of the Norwegian Fjords. The limit for the number of missions flown for pilots was supposed to be25, but the US had lost so many planes over Europe that many pilots had to fly extra missions.
My dad, John, was an excellent pilot. He was focused on the task at hand, gave responsibility to his copilot so he could concentrate on his job and getting his squadron back to base. He hardly ever spoke about his war experience but every once in a while he would share. Often times he said when they got back to the base in England and they looked at the planes they would wonder how they made it back.
He was a tremendous leader, with devotion to his country and the men who were under him. He maintained contact with his unit and his only one desire that I ever heard was that he could go up in a B17 again. I know it's silly but I do hope he gets to do that someday in heaven.
His leadership translated well back into his civilian life. He got married, went to college while working as a teller in a bank and doing gigs with his band on the weekends. He worked himself up to bank president and board member during his last 15 working years.
I honor him and my uncles and Christian today for the service they gave to our country. My dad was 22 when he assumed command of his unit. It seems almost unbelievable that maturity and responsibility was conferred at such an early age. But the men then rose to the challenge and the best was brought out of them. He lived the rest of his life with honor and integrity as his compass.
His grandchildren have a lot to be proud of!!
Friday, November 8, 2013
The Calender
I wish that I could take an Exacto knife to November 8th, past and present. That I could erase that day, starting in 2007, from the face of existence. That the events and memories could be eradicated and filled with joy and special events.
But that's not real life, and we do live in the real world.
No one thinks they will be on the national morning news.
No one anticipates a life being taken in their 30's.
No one thinks tragedy will happen to them or their family.
No one is prepared for heartache, grief, loneliness, anger, and just sheer exhaustion.
Everyone has plans, hopes, dreams, ideas, schedules, appointments, family reunions, party's, and commitments, and birthdays.
And yet, it came.
To us.
To my daughter, my son, my wonderful new extended family, and us who loved him so much.
And it didn't destroy us. We ran to the rock which is higher then us.
And He was there.
He didn't leave us or forsake us. He didn't despise our grief, our crying, our anguish, our confusion, or our questions.
The moms comfort each other, talk and pray with each other. The fathers talk on Fathers Day. Remember and love each other and talk about "someday"......
For we have hope. Hope and assurance that one day our tears will be wiped away. We will be reunited and joy and sorrow will be gone. So we asked Him to help us number our days so that we may apply our hearts to wisdom. And help us to be "ready".
"For now we live, if we stand fast in the Lord" I Thessalonians 3:8
Christian Philip Skoglund
But that's not real life, and we do live in the real world.
No one thinks they will be on the national morning news.
No one anticipates a life being taken in their 30's.
No one thinks tragedy will happen to them or their family.
No one is prepared for heartache, grief, loneliness, anger, and just sheer exhaustion.
Everyone has plans, hopes, dreams, ideas, schedules, appointments, family reunions, party's, and commitments, and birthdays.
And yet, it came.
To us.
To my daughter, my son, my wonderful new extended family, and us who loved him so much.
And it didn't destroy us. We ran to the rock which is higher then us.
And He was there.
He didn't leave us or forsake us. He didn't despise our grief, our crying, our anguish, our confusion, or our questions.
The moms comfort each other, talk and pray with each other. The fathers talk on Fathers Day. Remember and love each other and talk about "someday"......
For we have hope. Hope and assurance that one day our tears will be wiped away. We will be reunited and joy and sorrow will be gone. So we asked Him to help us number our days so that we may apply our hearts to wisdom. And help us to be "ready".
"For now we live, if we stand fast in the Lord" I Thessalonians 3:8
Christian Philip Skoglund
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
November 4th
November 4, 1976 turned out to be the beginning of the most wonderful adventure that Rob and I have engaged upon.
Our first child was born.
In the wee hours of the morning, Elizabeth Jane Nordberg, entered this world screaming, hungry and very overdue. When she was placed in Rob's arms, the nurse introduced her as "our little princess". And she has certainly fulfilled that each day in our eyes.
We loved her immediately. Red faced, no hair, new born diapers too small.....but she was ours and she was God's best gift ever to these two awe struck parents. And the proud grandparents, great grandmother and aunts and uncle.
Elizabeth was the first of that generation. And she led the way with grace, honor, beauty, strength, intelligence and most important, a love for her savior, Jesus Christ.
She and I were buddies, right from the start and have continued to be best friends. She would stand right up next to me while I was teaching a ladies Bible Study. She loved music, played the piano, trumpet and french horn. She was "put in charge" of her 1st grade class, when her teacher had to step out of the room. She loved to read and play games. At 13 she "took charge" of the family while I went out and cared for my sister who had just had breast cancer surgery, cooked dinner each night, washed every one's clothes and cleaned the house. She loved to bake, and every Saturday morning would make some sort of dessert for all of us. We know how to cook together, how to decorate together and how to entertain together.
Elizabeth was very athletic and loved animals. We had dogs, cats, rabbits, hamsters as she was growing up. When we moved to Canton, she developed a love for horses and riding. So, of course, she had a horse, Whim. She rode and showed her for years until she also developed a love of swimming competitively. Then a choice.
She was an excellent student, devoted friend, and wonderful daughter, and sister to her three brothers.
And she was my mom's first grandchild. They had a special bond. They loved the same things.....shopping, eating chocolate, watching Princess Diana get married, the beach, and being together.
My mom died, 8 years ago on November 4th, Elizabeth's birthday and less than a month after my dad died.
It was difficult. She had been struggling with Alzheimer's for about 10 years. When my dad died I think she just decided that she didn't want to be here anymore.
She was the most wonderful mother anyone could have and I miss her enormously. She loved and served my dad for 65 years. He was her rock and she adored him. I remember as a child, when 5:00pm rolled around, she would stop whatever she was doing, clean herself up and put on fresh lipstick in preparation of his arrival at 6:00pm each night. They gardened together, him in his vegetable garden and her in her rose garden. They went to black tie dinners for my dad's work, she always looked gorgeous in her long gowns. She was devoted to her children and loved them unconditionally. And her grandchildren were the light of her life. She could hardly wait to see them always anticipating their next visit. She taught Sunday School to elementary children for 25 years, preparing for hours on Saturday afternoon. She was so generous with her time and talents in the community, taking people to doctors appointments, exercising the handicapped, volunteering at our local hospital and always on call for any need that would arise with her children. If we needed help, any time, any where, she and my dad would be there.....no questions asked.
My mom wasn't perfect but she was just the right mom for me. I loved her and appreciated all the valuable lessons she taught me just by watching her. She loved being a mom and a wife and she was great at it.
My mom and my daughter. The two most important women in my life. I love them beyond measure and look forward to a glorious reunion for us all one day.
"Lord, come quickly"
Our first child was born.
In the wee hours of the morning, Elizabeth Jane Nordberg, entered this world screaming, hungry and very overdue. When she was placed in Rob's arms, the nurse introduced her as "our little princess". And she has certainly fulfilled that each day in our eyes.
We loved her immediately. Red faced, no hair, new born diapers too small.....but she was ours and she was God's best gift ever to these two awe struck parents. And the proud grandparents, great grandmother and aunts and uncle.
Elizabeth was the first of that generation. And she led the way with grace, honor, beauty, strength, intelligence and most important, a love for her savior, Jesus Christ.
She and I were buddies, right from the start and have continued to be best friends. She would stand right up next to me while I was teaching a ladies Bible Study. She loved music, played the piano, trumpet and french horn. She was "put in charge" of her 1st grade class, when her teacher had to step out of the room. She loved to read and play games. At 13 she "took charge" of the family while I went out and cared for my sister who had just had breast cancer surgery, cooked dinner each night, washed every one's clothes and cleaned the house. She loved to bake, and every Saturday morning would make some sort of dessert for all of us. We know how to cook together, how to decorate together and how to entertain together.
Elizabeth was very athletic and loved animals. We had dogs, cats, rabbits, hamsters as she was growing up. When we moved to Canton, she developed a love for horses and riding. So, of course, she had a horse, Whim. She rode and showed her for years until she also developed a love of swimming competitively. Then a choice.
She was an excellent student, devoted friend, and wonderful daughter, and sister to her three brothers.
And she was my mom's first grandchild. They had a special bond. They loved the same things.....shopping, eating chocolate, watching Princess Diana get married, the beach, and being together.
My mom died, 8 years ago on November 4th, Elizabeth's birthday and less than a month after my dad died.
It was difficult. She had been struggling with Alzheimer's for about 10 years. When my dad died I think she just decided that she didn't want to be here anymore.
She was the most wonderful mother anyone could have and I miss her enormously. She loved and served my dad for 65 years. He was her rock and she adored him. I remember as a child, when 5:00pm rolled around, she would stop whatever she was doing, clean herself up and put on fresh lipstick in preparation of his arrival at 6:00pm each night. They gardened together, him in his vegetable garden and her in her rose garden. They went to black tie dinners for my dad's work, she always looked gorgeous in her long gowns. She was devoted to her children and loved them unconditionally. And her grandchildren were the light of her life. She could hardly wait to see them always anticipating their next visit. She taught Sunday School to elementary children for 25 years, preparing for hours on Saturday afternoon. She was so generous with her time and talents in the community, taking people to doctors appointments, exercising the handicapped, volunteering at our local hospital and always on call for any need that would arise with her children. If we needed help, any time, any where, she and my dad would be there.....no questions asked.
My mom wasn't perfect but she was just the right mom for me. I loved her and appreciated all the valuable lessons she taught me just by watching her. She loved being a mom and a wife and she was great at it.
My mom and my daughter. The two most important women in my life. I love them beyond measure and look forward to a glorious reunion for us all one day.
"Lord, come quickly"
Sunday, September 15, 2013
The Anniversary
We had another anniversary.
Twelve years. Twelve years, really??
Yes, that's what they tell me....twelve years since I stood ,straight from the shower, towel wrapped around me in my bedroom, TV on, watching a plane fly smack into the Twin Towers.
I sank down on the edge of my bed and began talking to the Lord out loud. Please, please Father, save those people, send someone to tell them you love them, you died for them. Don't let them die without you!
My next thought was for my children. No one was home....no one was close.
All of my children were gone from Canton.
We had just dropped Ethan off at Messiah College in Pennsylvania. His first year in college! And the TV anchor was indicating that another plane was hijacked and over Pennsylvania. I quickly tried to call him and miraculously did connect. "Ethan, do whatever the administration tells you to do. Use your head, pray, and listen for instructions." It was obvious that we were under attack and no one knew where the next attack would come.
Jon was in Chicago, attending Wheaton College. I thought he would be safe, no mention of any situations in that area.
Christian was returning home from South Carolina on a bus. I could not get in touch with him, no cell phones for everyone at that time. "Please, wherever Christian is, keep him safe and get him back home with us!!"
Elizabeth was in Boston, working in her nursing field since graduation. The towers had fallen. They thought there would be hundreds, thousands of casualties. She called. "Mom, they"re telling us all medical people are required to remain in their positions. We're expecting many burn patients. The city is shut down. They're F-16 flying over Boston. Perhaps Boston was their next target! All medical people are to report to the hospitals." I heard a little panic in her voice. "Honey, God and Jesus are with you. You can do this. You were made for such a time as this. God will give you strength, wisdom and grace for this day and whatever is to follow"
Sadly, there were very few survivors. No one was flown to Boston. Everyone could go home.
For me it was a bit of a wake up call and revelation that we don't live in a Pollyanna world, and bad things can happen here, in the safety and comfort of our own country. No, none of us are invincible or immune to tragedies. We will and do have suffering in this world and it can and does affect the people in the USA.
I had a renewed sense that I need to live each day intentionally, make the most of each 24 hours. And that I could not protect my four children all the time. They were out, living life, going to school, making decisions and hopefully remembering lessons learned at home.
I had a more acute sense that this world is not my real home. I'm going to a different place, a better place. A place where I will see my friends and family again, have fellowship and interaction with them and see my savior. Where love will triumph and tears will be wiped away. Where we will continue to live and breathe and have our being!
The years fly by, but the memories not only linger but that whole day can be vividly replayed in most of our lives. I'm still sad when I see and hear the names of the victims being read by a member of their family. It's sad that some of those young adults have grown up with out their father or mother, grandparent, aunt or uncle. I'm sad that the hijackers had so little regard for their own lives, lives that God gave them and intended for them to use for good.
I know that good has come from this tragedy and horror, The Word tells us this and we have heard many reports of heroism, sacrifice, love, generosity and turning to the Lord. God is still good. He is still sitting on His eternal throne. His ultimate will will not be denied. And we are important to Him.
There will be another anniversary next year. Another remembering. Another opportunity to be reflective. Another time to look back and look forward.
Twelve years. Twelve years, really??
Yes, that's what they tell me....twelve years since I stood ,straight from the shower, towel wrapped around me in my bedroom, TV on, watching a plane fly smack into the Twin Towers.
I sank down on the edge of my bed and began talking to the Lord out loud. Please, please Father, save those people, send someone to tell them you love them, you died for them. Don't let them die without you!
My next thought was for my children. No one was home....no one was close.
All of my children were gone from Canton.
We had just dropped Ethan off at Messiah College in Pennsylvania. His first year in college! And the TV anchor was indicating that another plane was hijacked and over Pennsylvania. I quickly tried to call him and miraculously did connect. "Ethan, do whatever the administration tells you to do. Use your head, pray, and listen for instructions." It was obvious that we were under attack and no one knew where the next attack would come.
Jon was in Chicago, attending Wheaton College. I thought he would be safe, no mention of any situations in that area.
Christian was returning home from South Carolina on a bus. I could not get in touch with him, no cell phones for everyone at that time. "Please, wherever Christian is, keep him safe and get him back home with us!!"
Elizabeth was in Boston, working in her nursing field since graduation. The towers had fallen. They thought there would be hundreds, thousands of casualties. She called. "Mom, they"re telling us all medical people are required to remain in their positions. We're expecting many burn patients. The city is shut down. They're F-16 flying over Boston. Perhaps Boston was their next target! All medical people are to report to the hospitals." I heard a little panic in her voice. "Honey, God and Jesus are with you. You can do this. You were made for such a time as this. God will give you strength, wisdom and grace for this day and whatever is to follow"
Sadly, there were very few survivors. No one was flown to Boston. Everyone could go home.
For me it was a bit of a wake up call and revelation that we don't live in a Pollyanna world, and bad things can happen here, in the safety and comfort of our own country. No, none of us are invincible or immune to tragedies. We will and do have suffering in this world and it can and does affect the people in the USA.
I had a renewed sense that I need to live each day intentionally, make the most of each 24 hours. And that I could not protect my four children all the time. They were out, living life, going to school, making decisions and hopefully remembering lessons learned at home.
I had a more acute sense that this world is not my real home. I'm going to a different place, a better place. A place where I will see my friends and family again, have fellowship and interaction with them and see my savior. Where love will triumph and tears will be wiped away. Where we will continue to live and breathe and have our being!
The years fly by, but the memories not only linger but that whole day can be vividly replayed in most of our lives. I'm still sad when I see and hear the names of the victims being read by a member of their family. It's sad that some of those young adults have grown up with out their father or mother, grandparent, aunt or uncle. I'm sad that the hijackers had so little regard for their own lives, lives that God gave them and intended for them to use for good.
I know that good has come from this tragedy and horror, The Word tells us this and we have heard many reports of heroism, sacrifice, love, generosity and turning to the Lord. God is still good. He is still sitting on His eternal throne. His ultimate will will not be denied. And we are important to Him.
There will be another anniversary next year. Another remembering. Another opportunity to be reflective. Another time to look back and look forward.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Beans, Beans and More Beans
It's August 22nd already!!
I must be getting older, because time is really going much quicker than when I was 20.
The students are coming back, and I feel like they just said good bye. The War of the Worlds, ie the road work on East Main Street, continues with bangs and bells and whistles, flag women and men on big machinery. We had a Kentucky wedding and a benefit for the Children's Museum. Astrid and Gurli died this spring. Two of my original chickens named after my grandmother and her cousin. Gurli received 4 paracentesis's and lived for an additional 3 months. And we enjoyed a week away on Long Island.
And we planted a garden.
And now we have beans!
It's funny how different years produce different bumper crops. This year it's beans, green peppers, eggplant, peas and beets. Our tomatoes got late blight and so we have a very limited crop of heirloom tomatoes this summer. Last year we were roasting tomatoes almost everyday, making pasta sauce and filling the freezer for the entire year. I'll have to break down and buy my paste tomatoes from the Amish this year.
But for now, we are having beans at almost every dinner. I've discovered a lot of new recipies. Some we have made repeatedly and other were put directly into the trash. The same with my eggplant. Who knew that there were so many different recipes which used eggplant.
We've cleaned out the barn attic, made a stone path from 42 to 44 so I don't break my arm again this year, painted the bedrooms at 42, put in new water and sewer pipes in 44, and entertained many guests at Litengard on the Lake!
It was a busy summer and it went fast.
I must be getting older, because time is really going much quicker than when I was 20.
The students are coming back, and I feel like they just said good bye. The War of the Worlds, ie the road work on East Main Street, continues with bangs and bells and whistles, flag women and men on big machinery. We had a Kentucky wedding and a benefit for the Children's Museum. Astrid and Gurli died this spring. Two of my original chickens named after my grandmother and her cousin. Gurli received 4 paracentesis's and lived for an additional 3 months. And we enjoyed a week away on Long Island.
And we planted a garden.
And now we have beans!
It's funny how different years produce different bumper crops. This year it's beans, green peppers, eggplant, peas and beets. Our tomatoes got late blight and so we have a very limited crop of heirloom tomatoes this summer. Last year we were roasting tomatoes almost everyday, making pasta sauce and filling the freezer for the entire year. I'll have to break down and buy my paste tomatoes from the Amish this year.
But for now, we are having beans at almost every dinner. I've discovered a lot of new recipies. Some we have made repeatedly and other were put directly into the trash. The same with my eggplant. Who knew that there were so many different recipes which used eggplant.
We've cleaned out the barn attic, made a stone path from 42 to 44 so I don't break my arm again this year, painted the bedrooms at 42, put in new water and sewer pipes in 44, and entertained many guests at Litengard on the Lake!
It was a busy summer and it went fast.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Be Still......
It's a Bible verse.
"Be still and know that I am God...." Psalm 46 10
But that's the problem. We have learned to be busy, not still.
And now we find it difficult to be still. To be quiet. To stop.
We are out at the lake this week for a couple of days. And I have had an opportunity to stop.
Stop the cleaning at the Inn. Stop the constant nurturing of the vegetables. Stop the washing machine, the banking, the shopping, the calling, the preparing.......
I still get up early, an internal clock I guess. But I get my coffee, my Bible, my note pad, and sit on my stone patio above the water and I'm still. For hours.
This morning was beautiful. Our "black" water was magnificent. It looks like a molten looking glass today, flat and calm. Sometimes it looks like liquid Mercury, all shimmery and silvery, gliding this way and that. Unable to control itself.
This morning my little Blue Jay mom and dad flitted by. Lighting on this branch and that. Singing their song to each other and noticing that they were not alone in the space.
The little flock of ducks glided silently by, not a quack or splash, to let me know of their presence.
The sun shimmered off the surface of the lake and as I looked up, the view of the chartreuse maple leaves against the teal blue sky reminded me that the color combination would be good for my next project.
The intense green of the evergreens and decidious trees around the Flow are spectacular this year. Lots of rain in the spring, and now the heat of the summer has kicked in.
The Bible tells us that we can know God and sense Him in His creation. He created all this beauty and we can partake by taking time, looking, reflecting and enjoying all his creative efforts. I know that I appreciate it when my children tell me how great I have done on a renovation or a new endeavor. I hope I filled my Father's heart with a bit of joy this morning. He gave me so much pleasure in looking and experiencing his creative effort right here in upstate New York. It was beautiful, and He made it. For us, for me.
Jesus prayed for us before he was crucified that our joy would be full. That is a great inheritance. I received so much joy this morning looking at all the things he created for my pleasure. So thankful.
"Be still and know that I am God...." Psalm 46 10
But that's the problem. We have learned to be busy, not still.
And now we find it difficult to be still. To be quiet. To stop.
We are out at the lake this week for a couple of days. And I have had an opportunity to stop.
Stop the cleaning at the Inn. Stop the constant nurturing of the vegetables. Stop the washing machine, the banking, the shopping, the calling, the preparing.......
I still get up early, an internal clock I guess. But I get my coffee, my Bible, my note pad, and sit on my stone patio above the water and I'm still. For hours.
This morning was beautiful. Our "black" water was magnificent. It looks like a molten looking glass today, flat and calm. Sometimes it looks like liquid Mercury, all shimmery and silvery, gliding this way and that. Unable to control itself.
This morning my little Blue Jay mom and dad flitted by. Lighting on this branch and that. Singing their song to each other and noticing that they were not alone in the space.
The little flock of ducks glided silently by, not a quack or splash, to let me know of their presence.
The sun shimmered off the surface of the lake and as I looked up, the view of the chartreuse maple leaves against the teal blue sky reminded me that the color combination would be good for my next project.
The intense green of the evergreens and decidious trees around the Flow are spectacular this year. Lots of rain in the spring, and now the heat of the summer has kicked in.
The Bible tells us that we can know God and sense Him in His creation. He created all this beauty and we can partake by taking time, looking, reflecting and enjoying all his creative efforts. I know that I appreciate it when my children tell me how great I have done on a renovation or a new endeavor. I hope I filled my Father's heart with a bit of joy this morning. He gave me so much pleasure in looking and experiencing his creative effort right here in upstate New York. It was beautiful, and He made it. For us, for me.
Jesus prayed for us before he was crucified that our joy would be full. That is a great inheritance. I received so much joy this morning looking at all the things he created for my pleasure. So thankful.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Best of Both Worlds
We entered the building to soaring sounds of trumpet and organ.
Handel's Trumpet Voluntary, the processional at our wedding almost 41 years ago.
But we were just attending church in Manhattan in the Danny Kaye Theater, and it was a wonderful way to begin our worship that day. They also, had a magnificent choir that day, performing a piece composed by the choir director and another one arranged by her. Rob said "heavenly" at the end of the original piece. And then an insightful sermon from Acts on Cornelius and Peter. I love to watch the old gentleman who plays the organ each Sunday. He loves the music he plays and worships right along with the congregation while we sings the hymns. The service is traditional, inspiring and always enlightens my heart and gives me hope. Plus, I get to worship together with one of my favorite people, Ethan. That's a treat!!
But my heart and family are in upstate New York. Not my flesh and blood family, but family in every sense of the word.
We worship in a big gymnasium, filled with basketball nets and ceramic block. A stage with heavy scarlet curtains and a band with bases, drums, guitars and keyboards. It's contemporary. No bulletins but an intense sense of community, sharing joys and struggles, praying for each other, encouraging the young mothers and children, experiencing the Holy Spirit and loving the Lord. Our pastor is the dearest, kindest man I know, full of wisdom and counsel. We have big families in our congregation and loads of babies, continually! We have students from local universities and we have old people, the group I currently belong to. And we're alive in upstate NY, listening, listening to the voice of the Lord.
I know I can count on my church family here. They've come to my home to comfort me, to help me, to scrounge through the basement for props for the musical, to attend Bible Studies and Life groups. We fellowship over dinners and have bridal showers and baby showers here. They have loved my children, my sisters and nieces, my folks and in laws. They have come along side of me for years, when I did dessert night, Women's Ministry and Children's Church. They have written notes to me when I have been in treatment and when we have been bereaved and when we have been rejoicing.
Yes, I have the best of both worlds.
I think I may have glimpsed a bit of what we will experience in heaven.
Handel's Trumpet Voluntary, the processional at our wedding almost 41 years ago.
But we were just attending church in Manhattan in the Danny Kaye Theater, and it was a wonderful way to begin our worship that day. They also, had a magnificent choir that day, performing a piece composed by the choir director and another one arranged by her. Rob said "heavenly" at the end of the original piece. And then an insightful sermon from Acts on Cornelius and Peter. I love to watch the old gentleman who plays the organ each Sunday. He loves the music he plays and worships right along with the congregation while we sings the hymns. The service is traditional, inspiring and always enlightens my heart and gives me hope. Plus, I get to worship together with one of my favorite people, Ethan. That's a treat!!
But my heart and family are in upstate New York. Not my flesh and blood family, but family in every sense of the word.
We worship in a big gymnasium, filled with basketball nets and ceramic block. A stage with heavy scarlet curtains and a band with bases, drums, guitars and keyboards. It's contemporary. No bulletins but an intense sense of community, sharing joys and struggles, praying for each other, encouraging the young mothers and children, experiencing the Holy Spirit and loving the Lord. Our pastor is the dearest, kindest man I know, full of wisdom and counsel. We have big families in our congregation and loads of babies, continually! We have students from local universities and we have old people, the group I currently belong to. And we're alive in upstate NY, listening, listening to the voice of the Lord.
I know I can count on my church family here. They've come to my home to comfort me, to help me, to scrounge through the basement for props for the musical, to attend Bible Studies and Life groups. We fellowship over dinners and have bridal showers and baby showers here. They have loved my children, my sisters and nieces, my folks and in laws. They have come along side of me for years, when I did dessert night, Women's Ministry and Children's Church. They have written notes to me when I have been in treatment and when we have been bereaved and when we have been rejoicing.
Yes, I have the best of both worlds.
I think I may have glimpsed a bit of what we will experience in heaven.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
1921-2012
It was a long life.
91 years. And it ended on the last day of 2012.
Grandma Nordberg was born to Swedish immigrants in New York City. A fact that she was quite proud of. She grew up in the Bronx, surrounded by cousins and loving and fun parents, especially her dad. He was an inventor on the side and came up with many products that "almost" made it big!
She was tall and lanky. She had a tall, lanky brother, Irvine. Her parents took her to the Swedish Covenant Church each week, although they did not attend. She was introduced to Jesus, and loved and followed Him all her life. She met her husband at church, the son of the pastor. She went to Bible school in Philadelphia at night and worked in a munitions plants during the day. He took the train each weekend from the city down to see her and he courted her for a year and then they were married.
I think that generation was really remarkable. My parents and my in-laws were remarkable people in so many ways.
They were content. Something I see missing in this fast and immediate society we live in today. They weren't demanding the latest "thing", or dress, or convenience. I remember growing up and we went shopping once a year for clothes, at Easter. We always got a new Easter dress, and hat and gloves. And I think a few new play clothes and school outfits were included. And many years my mom did not buy any new clothes for herself. I wasn't in the budget. My Aunt June made my sister and I swimsuits! Funny to think of that these days.
They were faithful. Faithful to each other and faithful to the Lord. Alma taught children's Sunday School and did Children's Church for 35 years. A commitment which is almost hard to fathom nowadays. I was in my early 20's when I first attended our local church. I still remember all the Norwegian young moms and 2 Swedish moms coming in and dispersing to different classrooms to teach the children each week. When Alma organized Children's Church, Bob her husband, assisted her by playing the piano and keeping "law and order". And every year they taught 2 weeks of Vacation Bible School for the local children and their moms. For years she organized Christmas packages through the Salvation Army for the women inmates of a local prison. She brought a gorgeous, large, artfully arranged bouquet of flowers, for the front of the sanctuary each Sunday. Flowers exclusively grown from her garden. And she only had eyes for Robert. No one else could hold a candle to him.
They had integrity and personal responsibility.
They were great cooks. Alma was a fantastic cook. They had a nutritious sit down family meal each night. She began to listen to radio programs each day devoted to teaching on healthy eating and food preparation and vitamins. And soon became a mini expert. Her aunts had been "cooks" in the early part of the 20th century to wealthy New York City families, and Alma learned to bake at their side. She made wonderful cakes, pies and limpa (swedish rye bread). There was always loads of butter and heavy cream in her frig! She was famous for her shrimp salad and I loved her pot roast. She knew the right cut of meat to buy.
They were great homemakers. Alma's heart was for her home. She made it a comfortable place for her family and those who visited. It wasn't fancy but it was welcoming to family and friends. She learned skills as she, Bob and her boys made a home out a large dairy barn in Westchester. She did dry wall, taping, sanding, bought power tools, painted and wallpapered, purchased appliances and bathroom fixtures. And then went outside and developed flower gardens and grew beautiful vegetables in her huge patch down the hill. She wasn't nervous that she didn't have a job outside the home that paid her money. She had plenty to do at Guard Hill. And I think she must have been the original homeschooler. She homeschooled my brother-in-law for years before BOCES was extablished and he could attend a couple of years of high school there.
Alma, along with several other older women included my mom, showed by example how to love a husband, commit to local church, raise a Godly family, reach out to hurting parts of the community, be a friend, and love the Lord. She looked for the coming of the Lord each day. She watched and longed for His return.
And we will see her again.......
For we have hope
91 years. And it ended on the last day of 2012.
Grandma Nordberg was born to Swedish immigrants in New York City. A fact that she was quite proud of. She grew up in the Bronx, surrounded by cousins and loving and fun parents, especially her dad. He was an inventor on the side and came up with many products that "almost" made it big!
She was tall and lanky. She had a tall, lanky brother, Irvine. Her parents took her to the Swedish Covenant Church each week, although they did not attend. She was introduced to Jesus, and loved and followed Him all her life. She met her husband at church, the son of the pastor. She went to Bible school in Philadelphia at night and worked in a munitions plants during the day. He took the train each weekend from the city down to see her and he courted her for a year and then they were married.
I think that generation was really remarkable. My parents and my in-laws were remarkable people in so many ways.
They were content. Something I see missing in this fast and immediate society we live in today. They weren't demanding the latest "thing", or dress, or convenience. I remember growing up and we went shopping once a year for clothes, at Easter. We always got a new Easter dress, and hat and gloves. And I think a few new play clothes and school outfits were included. And many years my mom did not buy any new clothes for herself. I wasn't in the budget. My Aunt June made my sister and I swimsuits! Funny to think of that these days.
They were faithful. Faithful to each other and faithful to the Lord. Alma taught children's Sunday School and did Children's Church for 35 years. A commitment which is almost hard to fathom nowadays. I was in my early 20's when I first attended our local church. I still remember all the Norwegian young moms and 2 Swedish moms coming in and dispersing to different classrooms to teach the children each week. When Alma organized Children's Church, Bob her husband, assisted her by playing the piano and keeping "law and order". And every year they taught 2 weeks of Vacation Bible School for the local children and their moms. For years she organized Christmas packages through the Salvation Army for the women inmates of a local prison. She brought a gorgeous, large, artfully arranged bouquet of flowers, for the front of the sanctuary each Sunday. Flowers exclusively grown from her garden. And she only had eyes for Robert. No one else could hold a candle to him.
They had integrity and personal responsibility.
They were great cooks. Alma was a fantastic cook. They had a nutritious sit down family meal each night. She began to listen to radio programs each day devoted to teaching on healthy eating and food preparation and vitamins. And soon became a mini expert. Her aunts had been "cooks" in the early part of the 20th century to wealthy New York City families, and Alma learned to bake at their side. She made wonderful cakes, pies and limpa (swedish rye bread). There was always loads of butter and heavy cream in her frig! She was famous for her shrimp salad and I loved her pot roast. She knew the right cut of meat to buy.
They were great homemakers. Alma's heart was for her home. She made it a comfortable place for her family and those who visited. It wasn't fancy but it was welcoming to family and friends. She learned skills as she, Bob and her boys made a home out a large dairy barn in Westchester. She did dry wall, taping, sanding, bought power tools, painted and wallpapered, purchased appliances and bathroom fixtures. And then went outside and developed flower gardens and grew beautiful vegetables in her huge patch down the hill. She wasn't nervous that she didn't have a job outside the home that paid her money. She had plenty to do at Guard Hill. And I think she must have been the original homeschooler. She homeschooled my brother-in-law for years before BOCES was extablished and he could attend a couple of years of high school there.
Alma, along with several other older women included my mom, showed by example how to love a husband, commit to local church, raise a Godly family, reach out to hurting parts of the community, be a friend, and love the Lord. She looked for the coming of the Lord each day. She watched and longed for His return.
And we will see her again.......
For we have hope
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