Keys to the Kingdom

Lydia Mae

I have three grandchildren and all of them are sisters. Lydia Mae is the eldest, born on May 2, 2014. Her first name is biblical and her middle name is after her maternal great grandmother, Bertha Mae. Mom was always called Bertha Mae by her family and friends, so whenever I accompanied her to the doctor in her later years, the nurse would call for “Bertha,“ which always sounded odd and wrong. In loving memory of Mom, I’ve always called my granddaughter “Lydia Mae” because it seemed right and kept a part of Mom alive through speaking her middle name. Mom passed away May 30, 2015. Interestingly, one life began and one life ended in the month of May, one year apart.

One morning, after spending the night, I entered Lydia Mae’s bedroom to visit with her before I headed for home. I sat beside her on the edge of the bed and she let me look through her journal. I began turning pages and found a four-page writing that grabbed my attention and heart. She had divided her thoughts into three profound headings. I was so deeply touched by her insight, I asked if I could borrow her journal and share it in one of my columns. She gave her permission; so here’s what she penned:

1. Family Matters Most: My family and friends are what matter most. No matter who they are or what they believe in, they matter more than anything in the world. I’m not saying that you don’t need air, water, money, sleep, and food. They all mean a lot to survival, but what is living if you have no one to live with? If you had no family or friends you would be all alone with no one else around. Life would be harder because there would be no teamwork. One person would have to do everything by themselves. It takes years to build things when you alone are doing things. So now we know we all need each other!

2. Treat each other the way you want to be treated: Treat each other the way you want to be treated is the Golden Rule. It means if you show meanness you will get meanness back. If you show kindness then you will get kindness back. So if you want to be treated kindly then you should treat others kindly.

3. Show Love to Everyone: Show love to everyone just means that you should treat everyone the same, no matter what they look like, sound like, or believe in because everyone is human and deserves to be treated like one. Everyone is special because God created everyone different. Even twins are different, but that shouldn’t affect how people are treated. Now you know.

“Happy Mother’s Day” to all who have loved, nurtured, and inspired their children. I am currently reading through a Bible that my late husband gave to his mother for Easter 2018. (This gift was returned to me when she downsized and moved.) Her son wrote this on the inside cover: “To Mom, Happy Springtime!! He is risen as He said! Thank you for your kindness and patience. You have made the world a lovelier place. I love you, Jimmy.” No matter our age, we never outgrow our need for a mother. It’s nice that a  mother’s influence lasts a lifetime.

The Key: Mothers teach and love their children tenderly so life won’t be so hard.

“Write down ‘rubber bands.’”                                                                                                “Too late now.”

“This Ziploc is too small.”

“Something else is on my list.”

“What is wrong with  me?

“Where are those keys?”

“Should have thought about this before.”

“Start calling your friends before you don’t have any.”

To most people, this looks like a conversation I might start with Dave.  In a way, it is, because to him, when he “hears” me, he assumes I am mumbling or not speaking audibly.  If it were that simple! In actuality, it is an ongoing conversation I have with myself.  Yes, that’s right.  I am talking to myself.

The frequency of this annoyance is increasing.  In the grocery store the other day, while trying to decide which cantaloupe to select, a lady nearby said “Pardon?” after I reminded myself out loud that smelling it might freak out an onlooker.  This is becoming a problem.

Instead of talking to myself, I need to be talking to God.  At a Bible study this past week, the leader pointed out something I’ve never considered (not out loud or to myself).  When Jesus sought solitude to pray to God the night before he was arrested, according to John MacArthur in his book Twelve Ordinary Men, the English language does not do justice to what happened that night.

We read that Jesus “continued all night in prayer to God,” but in Greek it means that he spent the whole night in the prayer of God. “The members of the Trinity were communing with one another.”

MacArthur continues.  “His (Jesus’) prayers were all perfectly consistent with the mind and the will of God—for He Himself is God.”  How does that happen?  Was Jesus talking to Himself? (Alas, something we have in common.)

The author continues.  “Jesus in His humanity needed to pray all night, and Jesus in His deity was praying the very prayer of God.”  Have you ever considered that?  Somewhere in that mix was the Holy Spirit, the third part of the trinity, engaged in this shared time spent in the garden.

Can you imagine being able to ask yourself for whatever you want? What would you request?  A new truck?  A favorable diagnosis?  A dream vacation?  A day without the kids squabbling? If you were Jesus, probably not on his list.  He would only ask for something that lines up with what is best from an eternal perspective.

The difference is distressing.  When I’m talking to myself, I’m not talking to God…or Jesus…or the Holy Spirit.  My mind is rambling, flitting from one thought to another, so why don’t I turn those thoughts to prayer?  “Jesus, please help me find my keys.”  “God, is it too late now, or can you turn this situation into a blessing?”  Lord, please help me find time to call my friends.”  “Holy Spirit, what will others think if I smell this cantaloupe?”

You get the point.  At least if I mutter it out loud and get questionable looks, I can tell people that I am talking to God.  Surely no one will complain to management if that’s my response, unless, of course, I actually smell the fruit.  Some things, as we all know, are left better unsniffed.