I, more than others perhaps, know that memories are not in objects or things. And yet, there are a few items that are saturated with symbols and pictures of a time past.
So I will always remind you of these things, even though you know them and are firmly established in the truth you now have. I think it is right to refresh your memory . . . [II Peter 1:12-13a]
Yesterday, by accident, one of my adult children was helping me by washing a high window and a soapstone sculpture that had been there for some years fell over and broke, not shattered, but broken into enough pieces that it is not repairable. They were not inclined to tell me, I know, for my husband had hand carried it home from one of his first missionary journeys to Zambia.
Photo by Steve Sattler
When Mike brought the thing home we were still only a family of four and I noted that the carving was a representation of a family of five. I had given him a hard time about it, thinking he didn’t even notice the difference. He demurred, as he often did, that he felt compelled to get that one, a kind of holy tug. And so, it found a home in the window and was forgotten in its familiarity.
But then, a few years later, our lives did take a turn and we adopted a teen from Russia, hence we were five after all.
In this past year, as our family has struggled with a different kind of brokenness when Mike died, a photographer friend (at my request) gave me one of his images that touched my heart deeply, capturing what it felt like to have one of our family leaning away from us.
This week, my youngest son moves out of our family home into a new life; my oldest son is in the Navy and will soon be posted to San Diego; and my daughter is expecting her first child in a few weeks. Life moves on.
So, when the soapstone carving broke, a little place in my heart hiccuped. I even thought about trying to glue it back together again, but then I just knew, it’s not really broken. In order for new things to grow, the seed must die in the ground, stop being a seed and become something else entirely.
Meditations from Zion 
Just wonderful. How we learn things is as important – perhaps even more important – than the things we learn.
What a beautiful post…and to think you will soon have a grandchild! (I think babies come and fill that empty space in our hearts perhaps…I hope that’s what happens for you!) Being a grandmother is wonderful – Congratulations!!
(p.s. our blogs are both spiritual and I was wondering if you could also follow mine? https://michelechynoweth1.wordpress.com/ I would really appreciate it…sometimes I feel like a voice in the wilderness! 🙂
Thanks Michele. Actually, I do get a weekly digest. I will try to comment occasionally too.