1954, Jaite, Ohio, post office. Dad worked at the mill there for a while too.
1958, camping near the Soo Locks, Michigan.
1952, near Ontonagan on Lake Superior. My dad, brother Tom and sister Judy eating what appears to be lunch out of the side of the car.
1954, Big Island, Virginia. My sister Judy and my brother Tom with some women that were living there too. My dad was working on the mill there at the time. My family got to live in the dumpy trailer in the background, because they had kids, while these other women lived in the nicer trailer. (Doesn't Tom look like Calvin, from the cartoon Calvin and Hobbes?)
1954. My dad and my brother Tom at Natural Bridge
I’ve shared lots and lots of stories of family vacations, sometimes I was one of the kids, sometimes I was one of the parents. Unfortunately, with the passage of time, I grew up and then my kids grew up. The family vacation faded, didn’t disappear, just slowly slipped into the back burner of our lives.
In the fall of 2004, Nick went off to UW-Platteville and then thanks to his friend’s dad, was able to get a job working for his engineering firm the following summer. The job was in Washburn, just up past Ashland. We took our pop-up camper and set it up in Memorial Park right on Lake Superior. This was perfect for my son – camping all summer long and making money besides.
Val and I took a ride up there in July, ate supper with Nick, spent the night in the camper and the next day visited Bayfield. The next month, as Nick’s job was winding down, I drove up there for the night and hiked to some waterfalls, by myself, the next day. It was a melancholy – and beastly hot – time.
Another thing that happened that summer, I filled the last pages of the Travel Log. Now, I suppose I have to dig out the next journal where I documented even more journeys.
At the crack of dawn on Sunday, the women came to the tomb carrying the burial spices they had prepared. They found the entrance stone rolled back from the tomb, so they walked in. But once inside, they couldn't find the body of the Master Jesus. Luke 24:1-3 (The Message Bible)
It is Easter morning, and I started writing the expected Easter morning trumpets and halleluiahs. Then my husband walked into the room and I came back to the 21st century. Here’s my Easter story.
My husband works as the caretaker of the cemetery in town. It is finally Spring here and he is glad to go back to work. All winter, the local funeral directors have been placing caskets, filled with the departed, into a cement block building at the edge of the cemetery. During the last few weeks, with the melting of the snow, those caskets have been pulled out of winter storage and given their final resting places. Some of those bodies were lowered into the ground with no ceremony, only the funeral director doing his job and my husband saying a silent prayer for whoever it was. Most of the time, though, the family returns for one more send off, one more good bye.
What if a family came to the cemetery on the appointed time and day, and my husband told them, “I am sorry, I don’t know what happened. Your loved one isn’t here.” The tomb is empty.
If that really happened, someone would be in trouble. I don’t think that any of the family would think that Mom or Dad was raised from the dead. But the beauty, the wonder, of Easter is that the tomb really is empty. The body may still be there, but Mom or Dad, Sister or Brother isn’t there. If they were believers, they are not dead, they have eternal life and all because that tomb was empty on the first Easter morning.
Heavenly Father, we thank you for the empty tomb, words can never say how much we thank you.
By now it was noon. The whole earth became dark, the darkness lasting three hours—a total blackout. The Temple curtain split right down the middle. Jesus called loudly, "Father, I place my life in your hands!" Then he breathed his last.
When the captain there saw what happened, he honored God: "This man was innocent! A good man, and innocent!" Luke 23:44-47 (The Message Bible)
There are so many lines in the Bible that I just love. Just the simplest few words can say so much. Here, the captain, called the Centurion in other versions of the Bible, looks up at the cross. His heart sinks. He knows that they have all messed up. Big time. Max Lucado says it here better than I ever could. One of the criminals hanging alongside cursed him: "Some Messiah you are! Save yourself! Save us!"
But the other one made him shut up: "Have you no fear of God? You're getting the same as him. We deserve this, but not him—he did nothing to deserve this."
Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom."
He said, "Don't worry, I will. Today you will join me in paradise." Luke 23: 39-43 (The Message Bible)
I always wanted to write a story about these two criminals. What were they crucified for? Did they have family, mingled with Jesus' followers, who cried below their crosses? Did any of that family hear the conversation from the crosses? What if one of these people, who had never heard of Jesus before, end up becoming one of the first Christians? Or does anyone know if such a story has already been written?
(This is a church in Quinua, Peru, a small village about an hour's drive from Ayacucho, where I volunteered for a week in 2009. Quinua, set high in the Andes mountains, is known for its ceramics, especially the little houses which are placed on the tops of buildings as protection against evil spirits.)
Two others, both criminals, were taken along with him for execution.
When they got to the place called Skull Hill, they crucified him, along with the criminals, one on his right, the other on his left.
Jesus prayed, "Father, forgive them; they don't know what they're doing." Luke 23:32-34 (The Message Bible)
I've thought about writing something witty to go with the Bible passages this week, but most of them really say it all. There's nothing more that I could add.
(In April of 2009 I took a volunteer trip to Ayacucho, Peru. All this week my pictures will be from there. Ayacucho is known for its many churches, so it dawned on me that these pictures might fit in well this week. Stayed tuned to my blog, as some day I will tell you all about that trip.)
