Springing Up Winnie

Years ago we had a neighbor named Winnie.  Winnie was what one might call a “salt of the earth” type of person.  She was plain in appearance and very practical.  While I drag out curtains and linens from my attic to usher in the change of seasons, she owned a single wreath in which the center piece could be switched to mark the seasons.  That was it.

She had a quick wit, was well versed, had a good sense of humor, was very conversational, and was an overall nice person to know.  I enjoyed having her as a neighbor.

Winnie loved flowers and, given her simplistic nature, opted for perennial flowers and greenery.  It was not unusual to see her digging in the dirt or planning where or what she would sink next.  She was totally at ease in her yard.

Some years into our neighborship, Winnie got cancer.  She battled.  And every time she ended one treatment she guessed what her new hair color would be.  Yes, it grew back different from her original mousy brown.  If memory serves, even the texture of her hair changed.  She accepted that challenging part of her life with the grace and humor that reflected her relationship with God until, at last, she succumbed to that horrible disease.

Living between two highways, I don’t normally walk the road.  I especially don’t have much cause to walk in front of Winnie’s former home.  But this past spring, as I walked that stretch of highway, I paused and smiled as I gazed upon the loveliness of her plants from years ago.  They stand as a testament to her simple, beautiful, faith filled life, and return every year, bringing along with them memories of Winnie.  Thinking of Winnie and her flowers made me wonder what I will leave behind that may bring back memories of me to others.  Have you ever wondered what you will leave behind?

Not so long ago, Bob was considering his lot in life; that is, having no sons on which to pass on his name.  In a house full of females he is odd man standing.  It was in this tumult of thoughts that Bob heard today’s featured song and his attitude changed.  Suddenly, having a son on which to pass on his name, his legacy, wasn’t of utmost importance.

Maybe some of us will be immortalized in history.  But, given the current atmosphere here in the United States of America (and perhaps other places in the world), while we are witnessing history being distorted and destroyed, having our names in books doesn’t ensure remembrance either.  (If your name is to be found in a book, make sure it’s the Book of Life mentioned in Revelation 20:15.  For anyone whose name is not found in it will be thrown into the lake of fire.  Not good!)  What does guarantee your memory here on planet earth?  Nothing, really.  That is why Jesus is the only name to remember.  Bob could have seven sons but would his name echo through the  generations?  His name, probably not.  But the essence in which he raised them, most likely, yes.

One day we will all stand before our Creator and we will answer to Him and Him alone for the gift of life He has given to us.  He’s not going to inquire about the houses we owned, or the cars we drove, the colleges our kids went to or the prestige, fame, or fortune we may or may not have had.  His only question: “Do you know My Son, Jesus?”  Ultimately we are only one of two things: We are believers in Christ Jesus, making us sons and daughters of God or . . . we are not.

How you feel today is of no consequence.  There are days I don’t feel married but it doesn’t change the fact that I am.  Regardless of how you feel, are you or are you not a child of God?  I hope you will join me today with a resounding “Yes!”  For everything else in this life is insignificant in the light of eternity.