Mr. Teeter’s Song

When I was growing up, there was a man in our church named Mr. Teeter. He seemed impossibly old when I was a child– he’d been born in the 1800s! And he and his wife often looked like they were still living in the previous century. Mrs. Teeter wore dark-colored dresses that came past her calf, sturdy shoes, and a white cap over her carefully arranged, long white hair. Mr. Teeter always wore a suit to church, complete with a gray fedora. Mr. and Mrs. Teeter were both short–he was probably no taller than 5’4″, and she barely cleared five feet in height.

One of the weekly church meetings we attended was mid-week prayer meeting. Sometimes, we would start with worship and singing. Various people would call out old favorite hymns. Sometimes we had a pianist; sometimes we sang a Capella. And almost invariably, Mr. Teeter would request the same old hymn. He liked other hymns–“What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” or “He Lives! He Lives! I know He lives; He lives within my heart.” But his clear favorite was “I Love to Tell the Story.”

As a child, I found this frustrating. First of all, I liked to sing a variety of songs; this one was NOT one of my favorites, and I thought we were “wasting time” by always singing the same old songs. Secondly, because of his age, everyone deferred to Mr. Teeter, so even if other songs were called out, it was a given that his choice would probably win out.

But one evening, Mr. Teeter explained WHY he loved this old hymn so much. He said he had lived a rough life in his younger years– he drank more than he should, and he had a short temper. I was shocked. I could not imagine this tiny, wrinkled, gentle man as being anything other than how I knew him. He was dapper, soft-spoken, kind, and wise. When his wife suffered a stroke, he patiently and lovingly cared for her. He was generous and compassionate, even if I thought his musical taste was more limited than it might have been.

Instead of singing the song, he read it aloud. And after a couple of phrases, he would linger and talk about how, all these years later, he was still in love with the simple Gospel message– that Christ died for sinners, rose again and offered forgiveness and redemption to all who believed in Him. Mr. Teeter had never forgotten the joy and wonder of his Salvation. He never tired of “the old, old story” because it had changed his life in a dramatic and eternally satisfying way. Mr. Teeter died when I was still a teenager. He had cared for his wife until she died, and he was at peace when it came time to leave his life on earth. In fact, his face almost glowed as he lay in his casket. He was absent from the body, and ready to sing the “new, new song.”

There was nothing slick or intellectually challenging about Mr. Teeter’s testimony, but it was very real and powerfully moving. There was nothing musically exciting about the song he loved, but the message was eternally true, and worth singing over and over again. So many years later, whenever I hear this timeless hymn, I am reminded of how Jesus changed my life, and how grateful I am to sing His praises.

Today, as I remember Mr. Teeter and his faithful witness of God’s love and mercy, I pray that you know the simple and enduring truth of Christ’s love for you. And I pray that we would be as faithful in proclaiming the “Old, Old story of Jesus and His Love” as we go through life.

January 24, 2025 0

Of Angelic Visions, Devilled Eggs, and Family Blessings

Yesterday, David and I attended a family reunion. It was a relaxed atmosphere of cousins and siblings reuniting to share memories, and great food! As with all family gatherings, there were some who couldn’t make it– work, previous commitments, travel tangles, etc. Others chose not to come– some have been hurt in the past; others never saw their invitation; some just don’t like the other members of our family or don’t want to spend their time with family when they could be doing something else…

David and I went, not only because we genuinely enjoy spending time with family members, but also because I wanted to share the progress of a book I’m writing about our shared ancestors, George and Lila Green of Penn Township, Cass County, Michigan. I’m named after my great-grandmother, and I have been blessed to receive several boxes of memorabilia, including letters, photos, diaries, and other writings that cover many of the events and memories of their lives spanning over fifty years of marriage. I’m excited to have access to so many primary source materials for a family history.

As I brought in my “dish to pass,” I noticed that one of my cousins had the exact same idea as me! We had each brought two trays of devilled eggs– 40 each and 80 all together! We compared notes on recipes, and agreed to taste each other’s eggs to make sure they were all good– and they were all awesome. There were only a few eggs left after all the food was eaten– and there were fewer than 80 people in attendance, so it seems that almost everyone enjoyed at least one egg, and several came back for seconds, in spite of the fact that there were other wonderful dishes to enjoy. There can never be too many devilled eggs at a family reunion!

Before I got a chance to share about my book with everyone, I spoke with a couple of my cousins, and they shared some of their memories of my great-grandmother. Near the end of her life, she battled cancer, and near the end of her earthly struggle, she imparted to some of her grandchildren that she had a vision of an angel asking her if she was “ready to go.” She answered that she was. A few days later, she passed into glory. This was a great comfort to those who faced “losing” their loved one. Two different cousins recounted the same tale, which confirmed for me that her words (and her strong faith) had a great impact on our family.

One of the reasons I feel compelled to tell the story of my great-grandparents is the lasting legacy of Faith and Family that they left behind. From just two people who married in1909, the family grew over a century to include over 500 individuals! And, while some of them have abandoned the faith (and/or the family), most have stayed connected– we’ve had family members who have served as ministers, missionaries, Sunday School teachers, BIble study leaders–even a stray blogger or two! In every generation, we have had family members who can testify to the power of God’s love, His provision, His healing, and His faithfulness.

In sharing about my book, I read passages from Lila Green’s diary recounting her attendance at a church Christmas Program at the little country church where, years later, I would first hear the truth of the Gospel. She was so excited that 14 of her family members were part of the program, while 19 family members were in attendance! Some who were at the family reunion were among those 19 members attending church with Lila Green almost 70 years ago. And many in the fourth and fifth generation after her came to the reunion after attending church with their families in a different millennium. I also read about some of George and Lila Green’s own ancestors– many of whom served in churches dating back to the American Colonial Era– Quaker Churches and Baptist Churches and log cabin churches and churches held in homes and school buildings over two centuries removed from our small gathering yesterday.

Bethel Community Church– where over four generations
of my family were introduced to the Gospel!

God is faithful. God created families to demonstrate His faithfulness across generations. When we teach our children about God, we continue to proclaim that faithfulness to the next generation. And when we teach about our family history, we demonstrate God’s faithfulness, not just to the patriarchs of the Bible but to “real” people just like us– people who faced sickness, hardship, and loss. People who had pets and hobbies, and even squabbles with their siblings over toys! Yet God has been there over all the years, teaching, giving wisdom, and loving them–and us– every hour of every day.

I think God was listening in when my cousins recounted my great-grandmothers vision. I think He probably had fun watching my cousin and I trading “devilled egg” recipes and tips. And I know He looked lovingly at each precious family member yesterday– those in attendance, as well as those we missed seeing.

I know not everyone has a happy family legacy like mine. But I also know that it’s never too late to start one! Who knows what another 100 years might bring to your descendants?! Who knows what kind of legacy you can leave behind? God knows! I pray that you will be aware this week of all the many ways God has blessed you over the years– perhaps through your family legacy…perhaps in spite of it–and that you will experience gratitude, peace, and joy in the knowledge of how God can take even just two people and bless thousands!

August 26, 2024 0

Remember..

I love flipping through old photo albums. I’m reminded of special times and special people. Sometimes, the memories make me a little sad, as I see familiar faces of those who have passed away, or times of struggle or stress. But most of the time, memories fill my heart with gladness and comfort, strength and resolve.

I’ve been reading through the Psalms lately, and many of them speak of remembering. When God’s people faced struggles, they were told to remember the great stories of the past– the plagues of Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea, the conquest of the Promised Land, and many other times when God gave miraculous provision, restoration, and victory. These songs were not just a matter of recapturing the “glory days” of old– they were part of God’s command to remember and pass along God’s deeds and His laws to each new generation.

In the Psalms, we are also encouraged to remember our own past actions– both righteous and rebellious– and God’s faithfulness in spite of our failures. We are to remember God’s correction and discipline; God’s forgiveness, and His Mercy– not just in our own lives, but over many generations and throughout the years.

God instituted festivals, and rites, and Holy Days of remembrance– special times set aside for remembrance and meditation, because it is important to Him that we never lose our focus. We can get so wrapped up in the present (or worrying about the future) that we forget God’s timeless and eternal nature.

Even Jesus, before He went to Calvary, instituted a new rite of remembrance– Communion– in which He called His disciples to “do this in remembrance of me.”

Today, I want to pray a prayer of remembrance. I want to spend time in worship and gratitude for who God IS, but also for who He always HAS BEEN.
Thank you for your eternal faithfulness, and for your eternal plan of Salvation. Thank you for the ways you have provided in my life, in the lives of those who came before, and in the lives of generations of faithful saints. May I remember your Great Love and Power as I face uncertainties in the day ahead. May the remembrance of you lead me to trust you completely, follow you boldly, and share you with those I meet.

May 15, 2024 0

What We Keep…

I’ve been posting a lot lately about going through my Mom’s “stuff.” Mom was a saver– a pack rat– a hoarder, really. She kept boxes and piles of useless things. But she also kept things that have value to those she left behind. My siblings and I have found old photographs, momentos, letters, documents, etc., that bring the past alive again..not just our past, but our family roots going back generations.

My mother with her mom and younger sister c. 1944

What prompts us to keep such memories; to hold tightly to faded papers, worn objects, shadows of days gone by? Sometimes, it is an unhealthy focus on past memories– good and bad– that keep us in the grip of “glory days” or old and festering wounds. But there IS a value to keeping a record of the past.

When I was young, we had dozens of books around the house, including Bible Story books. The stories of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, Moses, Samson and Samuel, King David, Queen Esther, Elijah, and then Jesus, his disciples, the Apostle Paul…they were mesmerizing– and very instructive! God didn’t just give us Ten Commandments and a list of rules to follow. He left us with a rich tapestry of stories of real people, and their very real adventures. He has given us Parables, and Psalms, Prophets and Promises– the Bible is a living book that speaks to each new generation with timeless truths. I learned about the Faithfulness of God, His Holiness, and His Mercy in those pages.

The stories and photos that get passed down in families can also be instructive. I now have a baby picture of the grandfather I never got to meet, as well as a photo of him as a young man, and another candid shot of him wearing a milk bucket on his head (He was a dairy farmer)! I can see and sense his humor and love of family in new ways, and appreciate the way his life and early death helped shaped my own dad’s life. I have letters my great-grandparents wrote to each other when they were first married and starting their family. I have some of Mom’s letters when she was struggling as a single mother on a limited income. Many of these items I will keep–not only as a reminder of the past that shaped me, but to pass on to future generations. Other photos, letters, and objects have been given to certain other family members– it is part of the legacy THEY will pass on. Still other items I will let go– they have served their purpose and other items will take their place.

The little country church I attended as a child.

It has been tempting, with the amount of “stuff” that my Mom kept, to just throw everything out. Much of it has to be cleaned off, sorted, identified– and room must be found to keep it! So I also have to look around at what I have been hanging on to, and ask, “Why?” What lessons to I want to pass on? What objects tell an instructive story about my life? What impact will I have on others in the years to come?

One of the most difficult things to go through are the photos and letters my Mother kept. She kept nearly every letter and greeting card she ever received. They meant that much to her. Not the actual cards and paper– the thoughts, the love and connection–the people they represent were her greatest treasures on this earth. And I can’t keep them all. I don’t have space, and many of the people are strangers to me– her elementary classmates, co-workers from years gone by, great-aunts–people long since dead and, with my mom’s passing, forgotten by most. But I will keep some, because they are a testament to Mom’s love of others– her deep and abiding love for everyone who touched her life, and allowed her to touch theirs. I have thrown out, recycled, or given away many of Mom’s clothes and books, and I’m working to give away the thousands of unused greeting cards she had stockpiled but never sent. But most of all, I will keep the stories– stories of God’s faithfulness in her life; stories of how He worked in and through her life to touch hundreds of others; stories of how God’s Love blooms in the simple acts of kindness and baby steps of Faith; in the ordinary joys and tears and minor miracles of daily life.

And I will hold tightly to the stories of my childhood– of Moses and the Burning Bush; of Jesus the Good Shepherd; of David trusting God to face Goliath; of the women finding an empty tomb on the first Easter Morning. One of the pictures I inherited is a print of Jesus on the Road to Emmaus. Two men are walking along, talking to a third man. Such a simple act. Such an ordinary occurrence. But this is no ordinary walk– the man in the middle is the Risen Christ–the One who conquered death to bring eternal life to the two unsuspecting travelers. The print hangs on my wall now. The print itself is not of much material value– but the story! That is worth my life– to keep, to share, to cherish, to proclaim to those yet to come!

July 26, 2023 0

Souvenirs or Baggage?

My Mom died recently, and my brother and sister and I are cleaning out her estate. This is by no means a small task, as my Mother saved EVERYTHING! All of our elementary school report cards, 4-H Awards programs, class play programs, thousands of photos (mostly unidentified), post cards from all of our vacations (including places we re-visited!), ticket stubs from movies and football games and banquets, our old baby shoes, broken toys, recipes clipped from magazines and old boxes, letters we sent from college, and letters sent to her when she was in high school. She even saved such things that her own mother and grandmother had saved! Souvenirs and memories, all tucked away or piled up throughout her house.

My mom was what is known as a “hoarder.” She was pathological in her collecting bits and pieces of everything that went on all around her. She had clothing she had never worn. She had Christmas gifts she had opened and put back in their wrapping, but never enjoyed. She had books she had never read, DVDs she had never watched, and pots and pans she had never used. She had stacks and bags and boxes of memories she always meant to sort through– someday.

As she grew older, she sometimes would lament that we, as her children, would be burdened with the job of sorting through all her “stuff.” Even so, she wouldn’t let us touch any of it until the last months of her life, when it was obvious that she would never be able to do it herself. And we weren’t to throw anything out– only make an attempt to organize it all!

Of course, now we are throwing out the majority of what she kept. Much of it was damaged by being stacked and stored in the haphazard way it was. Some was damaged by a leaky roof, or mice. Many of the things that are damaged were once useful, and might have been useful yet if they had not been hoarded and held back. Blankets and towels that might have been passed on were left to be chewed up or rotted. Books and photos are warped or stained.

I loved Mom, and she was a great woman of God– a prayer warrior and evangelist. But she was human. In this part of her life, she missed some great opportunities to bless others with the resources she had. She even missed the opportunity to enjoy many of the things she obsessively stored for “someday.” Moreover, she saved many things that weren’t useful. Old boxes and jars of spoiled food, old bills and advertisements, expired credit cards and driver’s licenses.

I have been reminded of many things as I’ve helped go through Mom’s “things.” There are many wonderful memories that still can be found in all of her souvenirs. I found an old storybook– one of my favorites–about a Mama Bear and her naughty, curious little cub. “Why do you love me?,” the cub asks after getting into trouble yet again. “Because you’re my little bear,” she answers as she cleans the wounds and lovingly carries her cub home. Love transcends mischief. It transcends things like lost opportunities and hoarding tendencies, and the frustrations of life.

But sometimes we hang on to things, not out of love, but out of pain or desperation. Mom was a child of the Great Depression. Her family had to move a lot when she was younger. She was forced to give away toys and clothes she wanted to keep; forced to leave old friends and make new ones; forced to make things “last” when new things couldn’t be had. She spent many years having to be frugal and careful to make small memories last a lifetime. She became obsessed with collecting “souvenirs” of even the smallest events, even tragic ones, and holding on to what was “good enough,” even if something better was offered.

Photo by Carlo Ju00fcnemann on Pexels.com

Many of Mom’s “souvenirs” have become baggage for those of us who follow. And many of our “souvenirs” will be baggage for those who follow us. Some of our scars will be passed down to our children. Some of our hopes and dreams will be unrealized–unopened and unused gifts that “might have been.” Others objects and experiences will be pleasant reminders of the love that lasts beyond our own lives and limitations. But objects, in themselves, cannot take the place of the actual experiences of joy, love, and peace they are meant to represent.

God wants us to hold fast to certain things. Truth. Hope. Love. Faith. But He calls us to let go of other things. Bitterness, resentment, anger, self-pity. I know that in my final days, I will probably find that I am still carrying some baggage. But I hope that I will find more souvenirs– good memories of a life enjoyed, goals accomplished, and relationships that have stood the test of time. Mom had those in abundance. But some were hidden among the baggage–treasured memories of those who loved her, and those whom she loved, surrounded by the baggage of heartache and longing. I pray that those who follow me won’t have to search among the ruins to find my souvenirs, or hunt through piles of souvenirs to find my treasures.

May 3, 2023 0

Tag: generations