32_Lake Letters
Pictures and ponderings from calendar week 22
Come, linger with me at the lakeshore before we finish loading the car and begin the six-hour drive that will bring us back to our front door.
A little girl once learned to swim in this lake at the age of four. Under East Germany's state-controlled vacation system, her family returned here year after year.
The little girl grew up, married, and had her own children, who joined the multi-generational family vacations to the lake. Her oldest son has been visiting since the age of one. He, too, grew up and brought a young lady with him to the lake at the beginning of their courtship. They spent hours sitting on the pier, feet dangling in the water, as they read about biblical marriage and deeply discussed their ideals…
We are now married and have two children of our own.
This week, there were once again three generations gathered at the lake for the first time in decades. The little girl of yore splashed with my sons in the waters that taught her to swim.
There is beauty in this place that causes its people to yearn until they heed the call to return. I, too, have been touched by this place of pondering and poetry. Below are a few of the reflections from this week, which had memorable moments at home bookending our break at the lake.
Currently, I am praising God for deep, lasting friendships. I am so grateful for friends who love Jesus and who carry me in prayer through the hardest moments. Some of these friends, I only see twice a year. Others live across the ocean and are solely in contact through social media and letters. Yet, their friendships have made a profound impact in my life, and I know if I saw them tomorrow, the conversations would continue as if we had never been apart.
Today, I received a care package from one of these friends. It contained a gorgeous cup-and-saucer set decorated with Psalm 139:5, a handful of Lindt truffles, and a heartfelt letter filled with encouraging and comforting Bible verses - the kind of gift that shows how well this friend knows and loves me.
Thank you, God, for the gift of good friends. Thank you that we will spend eternity together in your presence.
You have encircled me;
You have placed your hand on me.
Psalm 139:5
On the way home from church yesterday, my oldest told me about the lesson from the children's service. He shared that they talked about having a black heart of sin and that the red blood of Jesus takes away the sin to make a white heart. Then, they can grow and be in heaven one day.
We have been memorizing Romans 10:9 this month, so I continued the conversation by asking him if he believed that Jesus is King, that He died on the cross to take away his sins, and that God made Jesus alive again.
My little man said yes.
I asked if he wanted to pray that Jesus would take away his black heart of sin and give him a white heart. He said he already had prayed this during his afternoon break one day.
I'd noticed a positive change in him for several weeks, and I just assumed that it was because he is getting older. But perhaps the Holy Spirit now dwells in him, and God is working in his heart, transforming my little one day by day.
Praise God with me that another soul may be His for eternity!
Would you also pray for my husband and me to disciple our little man well and for him to walk with Jesus all the days of his life?
Never say never.
In the foolishness of youth, there were quite a few things I said I would never do. God ended up including several of them in His plan for my life, gently teaching me along the way that He is the sovereign One who knows what is best for me. He occasionally also demonstrates a sense of humor in the degree to which that "never" turns into the complete opposite.
Growing up, I said I would never have houseplants. I helped take care of enough outdoor plants to feed a family of seven all year round, and I certainly did not want any inside plants that needed special care and provided no food. Give me the plants that thrive in every weather condition and still carry an abundant harvest, not the ones that must be babied to simply survive.
Then, I moved to Germany. I lived in a city apartment without a garden. Friends (and family and colleagues and students and acquaintances...everybody, it seemed) started gifting me houseplants. I couldn't very well just let them die, so I tried to keep them watered. The ones that survived were allowed to stay. The ones that infested my apartment with gnats were not. Some of the survivors started having babies, so I had even more houseplants.
Almost ten years later, we rent a house in the country, and I finally have a garden again. However, the houseplants moved with us. They keep having babies. We now have over twenty pots inside, and I have become the German who gifts everyone houseplants. They really do make the most excellent decor, and God knew all along that I would learn to love being surrounded by these reminders of His creativity.
From a rainy morning in Saxony to a sunny evening in Brandenburg: look at what God has made!
Here are still a few benches free For you to sit and write with me.
The question came today. I knew it would, eventually.
Do you want to have more children?
I've spent the past month pondering how to answer this question, should an acquaintance or stranger - who hasn’t walked through our recent loss with us - bring it up. God has been weaving the words together:
We would love to have more children. I was pregnant with our third until a month ago, but I had a miscarriage. The loss of our baby has shown us that there is no guarantee that our family will continue to grow. However, it has also taught us to cherish even more the little ones God has placed in our care.
This time of sorrow has been a time of blessing, as well: a time to reevaluate our priorities, to experience God's provision, to treasure care from the fellowship of believers, and to grow closer as a family.
Yes, we would love another baby to cuddle and raise up, but we are learning to trust God's timing and plan, knowing He has already blessed us more than abundantly.
I forgot to delete the pregnancy app from my phone, and I accidentally just opened it.
Curiosity got the better of me: What would our baby have been up to this week?
Twenty weeks.
The halfway point would have been achieved. Baby's movements would be much more noticeable, especially since I've been pregnant before.
Oh, how my body aches to feel those little flutters of life.
My husband walks in, and I show him the picture from the app. We shared such moments many times during each pregnancy, talking about the details of development and expressing awe over God's design. This time, we are just quiet, and the tears begin to flow. My husband holds me. He prays with me. God's presence and sovereignty comfort us.
But the tears keep coming.
I miss you, Baby.
When the children were up sick and crying half the night, it calls for a quiet morning. Buckle the babies into the buggy and go for a walk. Squeeze in a bit of creativity. And keep praying without ceasing.
Thank you, God, for carrying me every step of the way.
...you will receive power
when the Holy Spirit has come on you,
and you will be my witnesses...
Acts 1:8a
Way back in middle school, I entered the occasional poetry contest and even won a few. As life got busier and priorities shifted, the poetry remained with me, but I forgot about the contests. Since joining Substack, I've noticed calls for submissions here and there.
Today, for the first time in almost two decades, I entered a poem of mine into a contest. While the idea of winning a prize is undeniably exciting, I am even more delighted by the knowledge that there will be judges reading my poem, which I wrote as a testimony to God's care and provision in my life.
Would you pray with me that their hearts are drawn closer to the Lord through my words?
Thank you for being my guest. In God's word you will find rest; Seek Him, be bountifully blessed. 💚