It is a place of quiet rest that I have found when I am writing. I hope that someone will find my musings helpful in some way. Psalm 23:2 "He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restoreth my soul."
My Green Pasture....
Friday, February 11, 2011
When I was growing up I always envied my friends who had their grandparents nearby and could see them often and had them around for school plays and concerts and family gatherings and such. My grandparents lived in Maine and we lived in Connecticut so we only got to see them about once a year. My Dad's father sticks out in my memory as the most lovable man I have ever known. I cherished those trips to Maine to visit him. He lived simply. He didn't have indoor plumbing, just an old worn out outhouse, down a very worn out lane; but that didn't matter to me. His house smelled of woodsmoke and pipe tobacco smoke, but that didn't matter to me. He never had a big meal to offer us, or gifts to give us upon our arrival, but that didn't matter to me. It seems to me he always was wearing the same worn out green work pants and shirt; but that didn't matter to me. His house needed a good dusting and cleaning and probably had a good share of mice; but that didn't matter to me. I do remember Grandpa's short little legs because I sat upon his lap every time we visited and it seemed I barely had enough room to sit; but that didn't matter to me. I don't even know if my brother or sister ever sat on his lap because as far as I am concerned, I was the only one that mattered to him; because that is just how he was at making me feel special. All that mattered to me, was that as soon as we arrived for a visit, I knew that my pudgy, potbellied, bald, smiling,Grandpa with the pipe in his mouth, was going to reach out his arms, scoop me up onto his short little lap and say in his Maine accent, " yes ah...now that's my girl!". And that was worth a whole year, and a 12 hour car trip, of waiting for! I will never forget the love in the heart of my Grandpa! I don't remember fancy gifts from him, because he never had the money to give them. It's not about how much money you have, how nice or clean your house is, how perfect everything is; it is about the love. What my Grandpa gave to me is far more precious than any gift money could buy. Grandpa wasn't rich in money but he was surely rich in love and that's what matters to me! I Corinthians 13:13 " Now abideth faith, hope, love, these three: but the greatest of these is love."