ADVENTURES IN FAITH `FAITH IN ADVENTURES
The Old Kodak
Psalm 90: 12 Teach us to realize the brevity of life so that we may grow in wisdom.
I love my office. It has items that I have treasure such as a framed picture of the Alamo that my grandfather made for me when I was a small boy and driftwood that my talented daughter Sara painted for me showing my favorite spot along the Fox River. Many of my favorite pictures are in my office including one that shows me climbing straight up a rock wall in Colorado and I put a yellow tag on the bottom with the words "fall risk!" I try not to be too much into personal honors , but the Volunteer of the Year award from the American Red Cross for my work in helping to restore my city of Marseilles following the disasterous flood of 2013 is in a prominent spot. All my religious books are kept here and on top of the fold down desk that I inherited from my grandparents is the diploma from my lay ministry instruction, a picture of my wife Ann and I from the day that I received this and a wooden cross carved by a friend. Among all this stuff, which at least I consider interesting, is something most people might miss seeing. On the book shelf there is a black and white Kodak picture going back to the early 1940s just prior to WWII.
My father and his twin brother Ed were born in 1920 and my mother in 1922 and in this now browned Kodak picture the three young people barely out of their teens are pictured by a Missouri bay. What makes the picture so delightful to me is that my Dad and Uncle Ed are holding my mother up off the ground literally making a chair for her with their strong arms. I remember seeing this picture for the first time and exclaiming, "The were just kids having fun!" and the joy of the moment could be seen on all three of their faces.
WWII soon intervened stopping all that fun and my father and uncle both served honorably. They serve who also stand and wait and my mother carried a locket, which of course I have, with Dad's picture until he returned from the Navy. My parents were married in 1944 and I was born three years later.
This old Kodak picture is important to me on several levels. I was blessed to be with both of my parents as they took their last breath. I still have the vivid remembrance of carrying my mother weakened from cancer in my arms to her room when my sister Karen and I spent the last week of her life with her. This browned picture of my parents as young strong kids is a jarring reminder to me of the changes in life that we all go through. Whatever stage of life we are in, be that young and strong stage or in our later years when we look back longingly at those days, our lives are transitory or as the Bible puts it, "dust in the wind."
So, what's the most important object in my office. It is obviously the cross, or as I counted going shelf to shelf, crosses since I found 10 and may have missed some. Our lives may be short and obviously subject to many changes. These are not only physical as evidenced by the old Kodak picture, but also emotional from our life experiences good and bad. The constant through all these changes should be Jesus and I count growing up in a Christian home as one of my greatest blessings and not only is Jesus with ous through our lives, if we truly believe and confess our sinfulness, he can be with us through eternity.
One more item from my office; hung on the wall by my grandparent's desk is a wood carving that I brought from the chapel at Mendota Lutheran Home where I had the honor to serve as Chaplain until it's closure. The beautiful carving shows Jesus knocking at the door, and that's our door whether we are a young child learning about Jesus in Sunday School, young adults in the prime of their lives like my parents in the Kodak picture or in the stage of our lives where the road ahead is far shorter than the road behind. It's a wonderful reminder to me, regardless of what stage my life is in, to not only open that door when Jesus knocks but to keep it open as well.
Kent Terry 3/8/21
