A Saguaro cactus takes about a century to reach towering heights. It’s impressive to realize one of its seeds planted on the day a child is born might still be going strong when that child’s grandchildren have grandchildren of their own. It is during the latter years that the cactus makes its most iconic visual statement, pointing high into the heavens, sheltering families of birds, bats, and other desert animals.

Grandparents can be a lot like the Saguaro. After decades of living, those of us who reach our “mature” years have already overcome many of the challenges today’s younger generations are first experiencing. But, we have the advantage of knowing what it is like to grow up in a more innocent time with fewer distractions. We didn’t need reflecting gardens or meditation circles to calm the chaos.

As a child, I learned about my parents’ faith from the way they lived as well as the words they used. They were content with what they had and worked to improve their situation. I learned to appreciate their strong Christian ethics. Because of their financial sacrifices, I attended a private school that reinforced their lessons and laid down a solid base of knowledge for my continued education.

It wasn’t until years later that I fully appreciated what they had given to me. It helps to remind myself of this during times when I question the value of what I’m doing to teach my grandson about faith in Jesus. My grandson sees my struggles, but he also sees how God gives me strength to persevere when I would rather give up.

Children learn by what they observe. That’s one way vertical vision works. Vertical vision works best when I lift my eyes upward to the Father, who sustains me during the dry periods and refreshes my spirit. That is one lesson I hope to pass along.

What are your thoughts about Vertical Vision? Share them with me at SpiritualLegacyMemoir.com.

Romance begins early in life. Case in point: my grandson gives me a daily, person-by-person account of who in his kindergarten class is in love with whom. His definition of a healthy romantic relationship is: “She’s nice to me all the time and I’m nice to her all the time.” I have to admit that’s a pretty good place to start.

The love poems known as Song of Songs in the Bible are attributed to King Solomon. In the context of six songs, a man and a woman pour out their passions for one another. The poems explore the joys and challenges of romantic relationships from the heady fervor of a first kiss to the deep-seated conclusion of matured love. The thing is, children do not typically learn about love from poems. They learn about love by observation.

Children are subjected to the flawed secular portrayal of romance. But they also see the way adult family members demonstrate love for one another. Be aware, your romance is showing. The things you do are more telling than the words you use. Let them see you work through personal differences and face challenges together.

Teach them about romance by letting them see you holding hands and holding embraces. Show consistency in the way you interact with one another and with them. Welcome them into the circle of a family hug. It gives them a sense of stability. And remind children that they are genuinely worthy of love. This gives a true picture of God’s plan for romance.

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I was reminded last week that we all need to be taken care of from time to time. All the men in my family took turns dancing with the flu bug. My workout routine one day amounted to sprinting between the sick grandchild on the living room sofa and the equally sick husband propped up on our bed. Neither could muster enough energy to do anything beyond those things the flu makes one do.

Admittedly I’m not a doctor or a nurse. But during breaks between sprints, I consulted WebMD online and a wellness reference book we keep on hand for situations like this. I wanted to find out what I could do to help my guys regain a state of health. Thumbing through the pages seeking answers reminded me that our Great Physician has given us the most useful health reference book of all time. It’s called the Bible.

His reference book has answers for our every need, even the ones we don’t yet know we have. In Mark 2:17, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” God understands our persistent need for healing. He knows we are incapable of helping ourselves without Him. And He generously provides the services of the ultimate caregiver, the Holy Spirit, who ministers to our spiritual welfare. What a refreshing thought!

Addendum: That old adage “what goes around comes around” proved to be true at our house. A few days after my nursing duties were performed, I was down for the count fighting my own battle with the flu. This time my husband was the one wearing a nurse’s cap.

As I reached for something on a family room table, my hand brushed across a photo of me with my siblings. It was taken a few years back at a family reunion. I paused momentarily to look at our faces. It is memorable because as quickly as we found a place to stand, several relatives grabbed their cameras and ran forward to capture our image. One niece told me this might be the last chance to see us together. 

Her instinct was correct. Since that day, one of my brothers has died, my sister was widowed, and my remaining brother is battling against a serious disease. It is a sobering reminder that life gives no guarantees. Not one of us can depend on tomorrow. The older we become, the more clearly we can see this as a gift from God, a chance to rearrange our priorities.

During the months leading up to my brother’s passing, we shared some of our most intimate, soul searching conversations. We talked fondly about members of our family’s younger generations and reminisced about those whose lives had already slipped away. At some point, we talked about salvation through faith in Christ, assurance that we will one day be reunited in Heaven.

Our conversations prompted me to write my faith message for my grandchild. By God’s grace, I will live to see him accept Christ as his Savior. If not, my testimony will stand as a witness for him. Spoken words are a treasure. But unless our testimony is written it will be quickly lost, perhaps within the next generation. Carve out some time in your day to plan for the future. Put your story in writing so it can outlive you.

“For he gave his laws to Israel and commanded our fathers to teach them to their children, so that they in turn could teach their children too. Thus his laws pass down from generation to generation.” – Psalm 78:5-6 (The Living Bible)

That’s right. Winter is a gift. It’s all in a matter of how you look at it. I’ve spent most of my adult life bemoaning the challenges of cold, leafless landscapes and slippery drives on icy roads. I still don’t like those parts, but over the years, I have come to appreciate certain aspects to the coldest season that are appealing.

Back in the day, I took great pleasure in doing “donuts” with my car. For anyone unfamiliar with this sport, donuts are the spinouts a car does when the driver jams on the brakes while racing over icy pavement. Most of mine took place in vacant parking lots, thereby reducing the risk of escalating insurance premiums. to my thinking, donuts are still way better than cutting a hole in the ice and hovering over it on an upturned bucket while trying to snag some unsuspecting blue gill with a fishing lure.

That said, I have been known to venture out on frigid afternoons with snowshoes strapped on my boots. It’s a lot like hiking through the wilderness, albeit decked out head to toe in Cuddle Duds. There is something alluring about the stillness that descends with a fresh snowfall. No other season can duplicate its effect. Distractions are stripped away, the quiet encourages personal reflection. Lately, my thoughts have returned to wintertime thoughts of my childhood. My friends and I would play outside, building snowmen and snow forts until our moms forced us indoors to defrost.

I see that same exuberance in my grandson, who giddily positions himself in the path of spray from our snow thrower. He giggles as the melting fingers of snow run down his neck. He laughs when that snowball he just hurled at me lands smack in my face. He reminds me that the gift of winter is a blessing from God to share with our grandchildren, now and through the words we write in their memoirs.

How do you enjoy spending winter days with your grandchildren? I would really like to know. Follow me at SpiritualLegacyMemoir.com and leave a comment.

One of the items on my Christmas wish list was a digital clock for my bedside table. Nothing fancy, just a simple timepiece that shows the hour of the day or night. My wish was granted beyond expectation. The clock I received is like none I have ever had, far more than a simple readout of time. This 21st Century model packs a lot of information into its 3” by 5” profile.

Once a timezone is chosen from its function setting, my clock displays the exact time without any intervention on my part. It’s lighted display panel automatically changes the level of brightness based on my personal preference; I chose 100 % brilliance for day, 5% for night. Better yet, this clock displays a daily calendar, the day of the week, and date of the year. As an added bonus, it indicates temperature and humidity levels in the room where it sits; this bit of information provides a handy excuse to stay under the covers a bit longer on chilly mornings.

However, the most intriguing feature on my new clock is a small graphic that shows the current phase of the moon. I checked it for accuracy one day, or rather, one night; it works! But, why would this matter to anyone? I considered how people measured the passage of time before clocks were invented. Mariners used the sun, moon, and stars to navigate vast oceans over periods of weeks and months. They seem to have discovered a natural rhythm to life that flows more easily than the manic pace of modern civilized mankind.  

As with everyone else, time is running out for me. And, I may not accomplish everything I’ve set out to do in my lifetime. That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I allow time for the most important things in my life. Among those things are time set aside to be with God, time for dreaming, and time for writing. Sometimes the clock ceases to matter while I am writing, and I end up penning precious messages for my grandson and his children yet to come. Indeed, my little clock has done far more than I imagined. It has taught, and continues to teach me to measure my time in a more valuable way.