Remains to be Seen. A Note From Jan.

The July 3 posting on obituaries  sailed off to Martha before I’d finished it. My mistake. Quick fingers, slow brain.

What I’ve continued to reflect on are some untouched photos of Elisabeth Elliot Gren.

I saw them on line.  Touching and real.  Full of love and tenderness. Aging and illness that often accompany the last leg of life’s journey do not make for pretty pictures. Spots and wrinkles are nothing compared to loss of memory, mobility and more. But photos tell stories. These spoke of a loving spouse and caring family and friends.

A quote from Elisabeth’s book These Strange Ashes brought encouragement. “Of one thing I am perfectly sure; God’s story never ends with ashes.” Whether they’re the ashes resulting from the sacrifice of obedience or ashes released into the Atlantic Ocean on Father’s Day.

We sang this as children— “Ring-a-round the rosie, A pocket full of posies, Ashes! Ashes! We all fall down.”

Ashes. What’s left after. Left over. Remains to be seen.

When I’m afraid, worried, lonely, even blessed beyond belief, I try to do as Elisabeth wrote, “Leave it all in the hands that were wounded for you.” So many comings and goings. The leavings, small and large, as one ages. Thank you, Elisabeth and Lars, for the hope hidden in untouched photos. Reminders that death’s an enemy, but not the ultimate winner. Stark images that this world is not our home, we’re just passing through.

“Somewhere over the rainbow way up high, There’s a land that I heard of once in a lullaby Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.”

Such a contrast to “Ashes! ashes! we all fall down.”

We do all fall down. But we don’t have to stay down. There’s One who reaches down and lifts up the fallen. Like I am feeling this day,  and you, perhaps, as well.