Category: Stories and Songs (Page 7 of 8)

Thirty-Nine Years

May 8, 2015 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Today Dad and I celebrate our 39^th anniversary. Married in the year of our nation’s Bicentennial, we look in awe at the path on which we have been led. The years have been beautifully landscaped by God, with tall grand mountains alongside yawning dark valleys. There have been roses as well as thorns, dry barren years turning into deep lush times of harvest.

And the two shall become one… (Genesis 2:24).

At humanity’s beginning God spoke those words. Six short words, so easy to say, so easy to write, not so easy to do. Often we assume that the sentence merely means a physical union of marriage, but it is so much more than that. How do two people, thinking that they love each other, really become one in emotion, in their spirituality, in their physical being?

It truly takes a lifetime of learning to trust, learning to love someone who has many flaws, sins, and shortcomings – just like you and I. The wisdom and courage to forgive, learning to give God the things that are His, like your expectations of what you want your marriage to be like. He is the wise, artistic genius who created us and invented marriage, so we can certainly trust Him to enter into our marriages. We can have the confidence that He will lead and guide us, changing and transforming our characters so we can have the marriage that both He and we desire.

Dad and I have been in Idaho now for nearly six months and have missed you terribly. After enjoying our time with all of you and your families last week, I know that all these 39 years have been worth the effort, worth all the blood, sweat, and tears. Of course I knew it before we left, but the sweetness of being together again solidified the gratitude I have for our family.

In the past there have been times when I wanted to check out of marriage and mothering when things got hard. I’m sure all of you have been tempted to run away as well. But I have found that when times get hard, the best thing to do is to burrow deeper into God’s vast ocean of love and mercy. As I look back, I see that my disappointments in marriage have driven me to a deeper intimacy with God.

As we were on the way back from Chicago we saw the most beautiful sunset from above the clouds. We were just flying out of a storm. The sun was fiery orange-red with banks of billowing clouds almost totally surrounding it – you know those clouds that nearly look like grayish-white bubbles sitting on top of each other? And there was the sun peeking through, creating a gorgeous end to the day. Even the flight attendants were exclaiming about the incredible beauty.

As I thought about relationships, and marriage in particular, it seems that oftentimes the greatest splendor comes after a storm – after a fight, misunderstanding, or any other kind of relational mishap. When there are apologies given and forgiveness accepted there is beauty, restoration and peace, but most of all hope. Hope that God can bring beauty from ashes, gladness instead of mourning, and gratitude instead of despair.

You remember the wizened, aged woman who came in and chided us the night we were all at the pool in Chicago? I’ve been thinking about her lately. When she first came in the pool area she beckoned me with her gnarled finger and as I walked over to her she started scolding. She was disgusted with all the water that had been splashed around the pool, the mess of towels hanging on chairs, incensed that there was so much laugher and commotion going on, angry that there were children having fun in the pool – and all this at the young hour of 7:00 p.m.

The reason?

I wonder if it was because she didn’t have a family, had no joy, no celebrating a new birth, no pleasure in seeing little children squeal in delight when they watch their uncle do funny flips into the water. She had come at her appointed time – for 36 years she said – and expected to find a lonely, solitary pool waiting for her to swim and enjoy peace, alone.

I’ve been praying for that woman, praying that she might find some bit of pleasure in younger people, praying that she might learn to rejoice with those who rejoice. That she might learn to smile instead of frown, to laugh instead of squelching joy. One is the loneliest number and I pity those who decline to become a part of a family because it’s just too hard or simply inconvenient. Or perhaps simply given up because of the hurt that sometimes comes from family.

Yes, family is messy, unpredictable, chaotic, sometimes driving us crazy, and yet during other times leaning hard on each other. I thank God for all of you, our daughters, for encouraging Dad and me to persevere and for the joy that comes from being your parents.

Each one of you is going through God’s refining fire in your own lives. You all have your own stories of pain and joy, and I am proud that you are open to His work in your lives, even though it is not easy or what you would ever have chosen for yourselves. I pray that you will learn to thank God more and more for the man that He has entrusted you with. I know there are some days that you may feel like you have made a mistake in marrying your husband, but the best husband for you is the one you have right now.

You really have no idea what depths of companionship are available until you venture into those waters, and hang in there for many years. Besides, your own transformation is barely underway. Who knows all that God has in store for the both of you? ~ John Eldredge in Love and War

I would venture to say that at 39 years we are barely beginning to understand.

Love, Mom

Trust Me

April 22, 2015 / Shari Baar / 6 Comments

Dear Daughters,

A few weeks ago I was helping Grandpa and Grandma prepare for a trip to California with Aunt Rhonda and Valerie. Although they have traveled down south many times in their lives it’s different now that they are older.

Dementia has changed everything.

Although the trip was three days away there were many wonderings, numerous questions, countless concerns. “Who is going to take care of Willow when we’re gone? Will she have enough dog food? Who will feed the cats? Will we have time to fill my eye drop prescription? Who is driving us to the airport? What time do we leave? ” As Grandma carried the calendar from room to room she asked, “What day is it today? How many days until we leave?” The same questions were asked over and over in variation during the course of the preparation days. I simply said “Trust me, Mom. Everything’s ok.”

Even though I had written down the answers to many of her questions, she continually thought up new ones. The day before the departure date, while Grandma and I were packing the luggage together, she assured me that she had never seen that carry-on before. So I let her search through all the closets of the house, and when she couldn’t find the right one she reluctantly agreed to use the one I had chosen at the beginning.

Finally the day came to depart. The luggage was zipped up and ready to go. I needed to go into another room to make a quick phone call so I left for just a few minutes. When I came back the contents of the carry-on were scattered across the table. “I’m just double checking to see if we have everything we need,” said Grandma. With some slight frustration in my voice I again simply said “Trust me, Mom. We’ve got everything you’ll need.”

I smiled to myself, being transported back 20 years ago to when you four girls were young. So much of the same scenario presented itself except that now it’s my mother instead of my children doing these things.

An interesting part of this story is that a few days earlier we had 15 people over to the house, hosting an evening of music with some friends who love to sing. The pianist for the evening was Grandma. She was full of smiles as she welcomed guests at the door, and was sharp as a whip at the piano.

All she needed was a sheet of paper with the names of the songs and the key in which she played them. Whenever anyone chose a song from the prepared song sheet, they simply requested the song of their choice and within five seconds Grandma had the introduction in motion – flourishing arpeggios included.

It amazes me that one person can still be so gifted, yet have such deficits in other areas. But isn’t that just like all of us? We all shine in some way or another, yet have other areas that are not so shiny.

After Aunt Rhonda and Valerie left for California with Grandpa and Grandma, I got thinking about all the anxiety and worries that Grandma had been plagued with. And I wondered if we ever look that way to God.

Spiritual dementia.

We ask so many questions, What am I going to wear today? Should I change jobs? How are we going to pay all the bills this month? Will there be enough water for the crops to grow well this year? What if my marriage fails? How about my friends, will they stick near me or will I be abandoned? What if a tornado strikes our home?

On and on the doubts arise, the questions come over us like waves. Does God really care about all the details of my life? What about the choices my kids are making? What if I get sick and can’t work? What if identity theft happens to me?

Though it all God is constantly saying “Trust Me. I love you, I care about you. Trust Me. I will never leave you or forsake you. Trust Me.” I’ve had many anxieties over the years, betrayals, rejection – just like all of you. But as I look back on those years, God has given provision and comfort at every turn.

However, one thing he has not provided is understanding. I would love to know the what, where and why of many circumstances, but that would take away the necessity of faith. Of simple trust.

Things have often been difficult – in my marriage, in my work, in my mothering. But I have learned to trust, sometimes grudgingly, sometimes simply repeating the words “I Trust You” when there is no emotion and very little faith behind it, and at rare times with assurance.

Looking back on six decades of life there are still times when voices from the past – condemning, accusing, mocking voices still haunt. During those times too the words “Trust Me” have been woven like a thread throughout my existence. There were years that I didn’t trust, thought that I knew better than God so I did it my way, which brought sure misery. There were times when I, just like my mother, looked through all the closets for a different way, an easier way to live, and God watching and letting me search until I could find nothing else that satisfied. When I finally turned back to the words of truth: Trust in the Lord and do good. Love your husband – just as he is, let go of your children and let me lead them… Then, and only then did I find sweet peace.

Now that we’re here caring daily for Grandpa and Grandma I still need to listen to God’s voice saying “Trust Me” during the days of uncertainty, questioning and repetition. And I pray that you, my beautiful daughters will learn to say those precious words “I Trust You” as well.

Love, Mom

Arranged Marriages

April 15, 2015 / Shari Baar / 2 Comments

Dear Daughters,

In our family we have always joked that Dad and I had an arranged marriage. Grandma Koopman invited him over to our house for dinner, made sure he was a part of our water skiing outings on the Snake River, had us sing duets together in church and generally encouraged the relationship significantly. Grandma Baar too played her part by buying me such thoughtful, practical gifts.

As in many courtships, he wasn’t the man I had in mind for a husband. He was too short and too old. I was looking for a guy at least 5 inches taller than me (I’m 5’ 10” and he was my exact height) plus he was five years older than me (at 19, a 24-year-old seemed terribly old.) But as I got to know Dad those physical characteristics didn’t matter much at all. Within 18 months we were married.

Did you know that in our world today, over half of all marriages occur between a man and woman who have never felt a bit of romantic love for each other? Teenagers in most parts of Asia and Africa take it for granted that their spouse will be chosen for them by their parents, just as we take for granted that we will fall in love with the man of our dreams. In our American culture, people tend to marry because they are attracted to another’s physical and other appealing qualities. Over time, however, these qualities will change. Our physical bodies, especially, will deteriorate when we age. It is inevitable that many unexpected surprises will surface. None of us really know the man that we marry. If the truth be known, we barely know much about ourselves. Stanley Hauerwas says:

We never know whom we marry; we just think we do. Or even if we first marry the right person, just give it a while and he or she will change. For marriage, being the enormous thing it is, means we are not the same person after we have entered it. The primary problem is…learning how to love and care for the stranger to whom you find yourself married.

Philip Yancey in his book Grace Notes, ponders how the “spirit of arranged marriages” might transform our mentality in the West. The partners in an arranged marriage do not center their relationship on mutual attractions. Because your parents have decided whom you will marry, you simply accept that you will live for many years with someone you have just recently met. Unlike the Western question of “Whom should I marry?” the question that now comes to the forefront is “Given this partner, what kind of marriage can we construct together?”

Many people who have been married for any length of time may think, Love shouldn’t be this hard; it should come naturally. But if we look at any other discipline in life, we notice that it takes work and practice. Would someone who wants to play professional golf say It shouldn’t be so hard to get that ball into a little hole 300 yards away? I have had many piano students who start lessons, and then a few years down the road quit because they remark It looked so easy, why is it taking so long to sound good?

There is nothing in life that comes easy, especially not loving our husbands. Marriage is a continual dying to ourselves and learning to put other’s needs before our own. Sometimes we may lament that we have married the wrong person. But keep in mind that we never marry the right person because the quest for perfect compatibility simply does not exist. Your marriage was not an accident, it was arranged by God and He will give you the strength to continue to love, forgive, and be good to your man. No, it will not be easy but it is certainly worth the time and effort that it takes.

Over the years you will definitely go through seasons in which you have to learn to love a person you didn’t marry, someone who seems like a stranger to you. You will change, he will change. But the beauty of marriage is that God will give you the ability to face and adapt to whatever new circumstances may come your way.

I married a dairyman but that only lasted for 4 years. Dad then became a seminary student and eventually a pastor. It’s certainly not what I planned on or signed up for, but I have learned to love, and let me emphasize learned to love. It did not come easy, and neither did Dad’s love for me, especially when I became sick and could no longer live the active life that I once did.

As Denis de Rougemont so wisely said “Why should neurotic, selfish, immature people suddenly become angels when they fall in love…?” Raw, natural talent never made a pro golfer or an accomplished pianist. It takes endurance, discipline and plain old hard work to do anything well. But the good news it, it’s possible and it is worth it.

I love the promise in Galatians 6:9, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest, if we do not give up.” God rewards the faithful and I rejoice as I witness the good that He is doing in all of your marriages.

Love, Mom

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.

3 John 1:4

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdzve-iE2JA

The Long and Winding Road

April 1, 2015 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Last week Dad and I took a short day trip to Carmela Winery Restaurant in Glenns Ferry which is about 35 minutes away via the freeway. It was a beautiful day, sunny skies, warm, no wind. After lunch at the Winery we decided to take the old frontage road for a relaxing, scenic drive along the Snake River on the way home. According to the map, the road would wind around gently near the river all the way home.

Our map was not topographical (yes, we use old school maps at times) showing no elevations, and the road was described as improved. We figured that had to be a few steps above unimproved. Anyway, our path home started out in some beautiful farmland, emerald green alfalfa next to a beautiful newly plowed field of rich brown earth. The entrance near the field was complete with real metal cattle guards, not the fake painted-on guards that we have seen in many other places.

We decided to use Google Maps for more detail and it was guiding us well, leading us from the frontage road directly to Shoestring Road, the improved road. We came across the entrance sign to Shoestring that read: Road not maintained in the winter – 5 miles. No problem, it was 78 degrees and no winter weather in sight so we need not worry about maintenance. We wondered aloud why there weren’t more people enjoying this lovely scenic road.

After traveling about a half-mile on Shoestring we started going up the canyon. Suddenly the road got narrow, really narrow. Of course in Idaho there are rarely guard rails on gravel roads, but since Dad is a great driver I wasn’t a bit concerned for our safety. We’ve been on this type of road in years past so no big deal.

Then came the switchbacks, curving around one bend then another. We found that the canyon walls were steeper close up than seeing them from a safe distance below. Our speed was 20 mph, tops, but the view was beautiful. We did not see the river much, however, because other cliffs rose up in the way. So we simply enjoyed the tumbleweeds and sagebrush that were all around us.

We were chatting, I should say I was chatting about the tasty lunch we had enjoyed and how glad I was that we were out exploring on such a beautiful day, but I noticed that Dad was strangely silent. Then I noticed his white-knuckled hands and asked if his armpits were sweaty as well. Sure enough, he was tense and not enjoying the precarious journey nearly as much as I was.

On we went, up more steep grades, around another hairpin curve, the beauty of the river becoming quite scarce. For a second we thought about turning back, knowing that we were probably not even halfway through the 5 miles. Silly idea that was since there was barely enough room for one vehicle, much less a turnaround spot.

So, continuing on around yet another curve we glanced down and saw two cars that had fallen half way down the cliff, rusted and colorless, forever abandoned by some sad souls. Quickly dismissing that sight out of our minds we persisted on our way and finally summited the top of the canyon wall. Now we had only the descent, slowly and carefully.

In another 20 minutes we were safe and sound, driving over the rushing river and on to the long awaited treasured asphalt that was soon to follow.

Once we got home I was thinking about how our long and winding road today was a picture of marriage, my marriage and yours. It starts out in a beautiful green pasture, gradually gets more dangerous, sometimes one or both folks wondering if they should turn around or call it quits. It’s scary, and what makes it more so is seeing other marriages that have become rusty and fallen along the way.

But to those who persevere, to those who keep on loving, to those who “forgetting what is behind and strain toward what is ahead, pressing on toward the goal….” (Philippians 3:13), to those who believe that God can make something beautiful out of two deeply flawed human beings – on those God’s face will shine and cause love to grow. Love will grow, slowly, sometimes unperceptively but it will mature in strength and grace.

I remember one anniversary, I think it was around 27 or 28 years, I received an anniversary card from a good friend. On it she wrote “Thank you for showing God’s faithfulness in your marriage. It is such an encouragement to me.” This card came at a time during which my friend knew things were difficult between Dad and me so I was somewhat speechless. I had been complaining to her how Dad was being so uncooperative and just annoying me in all he did. What I didn’t understand at the time was that she admired us for continuing to work through the tough spots, continuing to keep our vows in spite of disagreements and frustrations.

When we look back along that long and winding road of our marriages we can see the growth and feel the bonds strengthening. We stand in awe, knowing how the years of commitment and faithfulness to God and to each other will indeed produce a harvest of love for generations to come.

Love, Mom

You Raise Me Up

March 25, 2015 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

When I was student teaching in a high school choir back in 2003 the song You Raise Me Up, popularized by Josh Groban, was a favorite of many. My supervising teacher, Mr. Wall, chose the song for the Spring concert and the students sang it with fervor, loving every word and musical phrase, working hard to nail their parts down. They never tired of singing it and I loved being a part of the rehearsal process as well.

Then came a day when Mr. Wall was not able to come to class and we had a substitute teacher. Since I was still a student teacher, it was mandatory that a certified Sub be in the room. He encouraged me to take the choir for the first half of the 90-minute class period, then he would step in and take the second half.

I was unprepared for what came next. After weeks of working with, coaching, encouraging, and teaching the students, thinking I was becoming a valid part of the choir, the students turned on me. There was laughing, mocking, many of the students deliberately behaving contrary to what they had done every other day of the semester.

Being blind sighted, it felt as if I were in a nightmare. I tried some other teaching strategies and tactics I had studiously learned in my Education courses but nothing made any difference. After 30 minutes I turned to the Sub and motioned for him to come up and take over as I fled in tears.

At home that afternoon I was trying to understand what happened, not ever wanting to face that choir again. Mr. Wall called to see how I was doing and gently told me that I needed to get back up to the podium the next day and talk about what had happened, calling the students to account.

I was petrified. I had talked to Dad and close friends about things that hurt, but getting up in front of the entire class of 80 high school kids? I struggled with being honest about the injury I had suffered at their hands, worrying that I would break down again in front of them, having absolutely no idea how to convey my disappointment in them.

That night I asked God for wisdom, words, and courage to speak the truth yet give them grace so that we could finish the remaining semester together in peace.

Next morning dawned and I slogged my way to school. I had some ideas of what to say but still nothing certain. As soon as I stepped up to the podium with my folder of music I saw the song You Raise Me Up. So as I started talking about my hurt and disappointment of the day before, I pointed out the title of that song:

“We as a choir sing You Raise Me Up so beautifully, but yesterday with the mockery and sarcasm abounding, I felt as if you were singing You Tear Me Down.”

From there, God gave me words to convey to the choir the hurt that I felt at the disrespect that was given. I talked about the necessity to live what we sing. Words sung are just as important as words spoken. When our actions don’t match the lyrics we sing, the words become hollow and mean nothing.

Years later I thought about the songs we sing in worship services. Do we really mean what we sing? I Surrender All. Really?? Do I surrender all or do I just surrender what’s easy, what’s convenient? Do I surrender my time, my dreams, my desires, and my pride to Jesus or do I just sing the words and feel some emotional passion for the moment?

I Give You My Heart is another beautiful song that we love to sing, hands lifted high. There’s a line that I love: “Lord, have Your way with me” that slides so easily off our tongues, but do we really want God to have His way with us?

Marriage is one of the crucibles that God uses to have His way in us, and I know I have fought His way in me way too many times. His way is one of submission to our husbands, of taking our hands of control away, and giving the control to God. We may not like how our marriage is progressing, wondering if God is doing anything to help us. It’s easy to think that He’s not actively involved in our lives because at times it certainly doesn’t feel like it.

A beautiful quote by Shauna Niequist says so eloquently: God’s always speaking, always. He’s always moving, always present, always creating, always healing. Oftentimes we need to use our eyes of faith, believing that He is present and working because our natural eyes are myopic. We have difficulty finding the longsuffering and patience to see the big picture.

I encourage you to look back and count the ways – how God has changed you and your husband, and invite Him to continue, to dwell deeply in your union. When we humble ourselves He will raise us up. There will always be differences, tensions and disagreements. But let God have His way with you, and let God have His way with your man.

The day after I shared my hurt with the choir I received some beautiful apology letters, several students even speaking to me in person. So, in spite of my fear and trepidation of facing teenagers with my wounded heart, God entered our classroom and taught us all a lesson of grace.

Love, Mom

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yfwlj0gba_k

I Wonder as I Wander

February 25, 2015 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

Last night I was taking a short walk after dinner when the spring night was clear, crisp and cool. It is not officially Spring according to the calendar but it certainly feels like it here in Idaho. Typically I look down at my feet as I walk in the dark making sure I don’t trip on a tumble weed or a little critter scampering across my path. Tonight, though, I looked up into the starry, starry night and the song I Wonder as I Wander came to mind.

I wonder as I wander, out under the sky,

How Jesus the Savior did come for to die.

For poor, ornery people like you and like I

I wonder as I wander, out under the sky.

Just before I left the house I made a snide remark to Dad about some trivial thing he did to annoy me. Then as I was looking into the sky I suddenly heard the thought

Get out of your own little world and open up to the Big Story that God has for you.

Far too often I get caught up in what I can see directly around me, in front of me, and to the side. Then I wonder about Jesus our Savior who came for to die. Certainly He wouldn’t have come to live, suffer and die, his only intent being to give his followers a ticket to heaven.

During this season of Lent, a time of waiting and pondering the suffering of Jesus Christ, I am drawn to this statement of His: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his live will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.” Matthew 16:24-25 In marriage it is so important to lose our life because that is distinctly how we will save it. Being annoyed by trivial comments, complaining about dirty socks on the floor, arguing over what movie to watch are simply distractions to keep us in those lesser, smaller stories.

Knowing the Bigger Story in which we are living certainly makes our lives and our choices more significant. Almost everyone has a longing to be part of something bigger than their own little sphere of influence. There must be more to life than the day in day out grind of work, tending children, eating meals, changing diapers, watching basketball games, looking for hearing aids….

Philosophers call this longing to be a part of a Bigger Story transcendence. It is the desire to make a difference in the world, to be bound together in some heroic purpose with others of like mind and spirit. John Eldredge in his book The Sacred Romance, writes so eloquently about God’s incredible pursuit for people who will take a step into a larger story, a story that will consume all their life and desire. That story is the narrative of God pursuing His people, and His people responding by letting their hearts be turned toward and molded by their loving Heavenly Father.

We all love a good story – fairy tales, romances, epics, biographies – any adventure story is worth telling. The Bible is full of stories about people who have loved, hated, obeyed, rebelled, worshipped, lamented, grieved, rejoiced, failed – people who have experienced every emotion that you have. You will find that the people who are the most memorable, the ones who have the finest stories are those who understood the Bigger Story.

Consider Joseph. Sold into slavery and forgotten by his brothers, he became the best slave that he could. Wrongly accused by his boss’s wife he was thrown into prison for years, and he became the most honorable prisoner that he could. He knew and believed that there was a Bigger Story of which he was a part. Because he knew and trusted the Hero of the story, he was free to forgive and wait patiently on God to do whatever He saw fit to do. Later, God’s story became evident when Joseph was appointed second-in-command over all Egypt in order to save many from starvation during the famine that was to come.

Many people in the Bible knew that they were a part of a Bigger Story. Others were simply caught up in their own small stories of control and gratification. For many years I struggled to control our family, to make you all do things that I thought were best. Inevitably God let those plans disintegrate because He wanted me to step into the larger story, giving you daughters and Dad to Him. God, the Hero of the Bigger Story, has immeasurably greater plans that far surpass anything I could ever imagine for all of you.

I used to think that I needed to be the answer woman and have all the right words for everyone, including you girls, but now my favorite phrase is “You better ask God for wisdom about that one.” My greatest desire is that each of you will seek God on your own, looking for your place in the Bigger Story, listening, learning and loving. I can point you to God’s heart, His love of forgiveness, reconciliation, compassion, helping the oppressed, and then I can stand back in awe, watching each of you making those choices that will bring you into the Bigger Story.

I am constantly amazed that Jesus came to die for poor ornery people like you and like I. He loves us just as we are, but has plans for so much more – because Heroes are just like that.

Love, Mom

May I Borrow Your Hands?

January 28, 2015 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

The other day Grandma came to me and asked if she could borrow my eyes for a little bit. She was trying to figure out what to wear and because she is blind in one eye and has limited sight in the other, it is difficult for her to choose her clothes. As you know, in her younger days she was always so stylish, matching purses and scarves, dressing just right. I went into her bedroom and chose an outfit with some jewelry that matched and she gratefully accepted my assistance.

As I was walking back to my room I remembered a song by Joni Eareckson Tada from decades ago, on her album I’ve Got Wheels. Joni is a quadriplegic, suffering from a diving accident when she was 17. She sings the song to friends who are her caregivers. The song May I Borrow Your Hands? goes like this:

May I borrow your hands? Mine don’t work so well,

But yours will do just fine.

May I borrow your hands? Mine won’t work for me

Yours can be mine….for a time.

Helping one another, like a sister and a brother.

May I borrow your hands? They can work for me,

Together we’ll do just fine.

Throughout the day I found myself singing that song, inserting the word eyes for hands. Later on I started thinking about things that Grandpa and Grandma borrow from each other. At the age of 89 Grandpa’s eyes are still very sharp so he too is able to help Grandma with things that she cannot see. He drives her into town for groceries and her Saturday morning hair appointment. Grandpa has had essential tremors for decades – his hands shake always and his writing is impossible. Yet Grandma is steady as a rock and still has a beautiful signature.

When it comes to walking Grandma is like an energizer bunny, she just keeps going and going and going….. whereas Grandpa has difficulty walking 100 feet. Grandma’s “forgetter is getting better” but Grandpa’s mind is mostly intact.

I think most marriages are like that, where one is weak the other is strong. God, in His infinite wisdom has put us with a husband who complements us in many ways. You have heard that opposites attract and I know it is true in our marriage.

While driving around Dad is always interested in the geology of the area, wondering where the headwaters are to Billingsly Creek or at what point the Clam River flows into the Muskegon River, what river runs into which lake…… I on the other hand, just enjoy the beauty of what I see. Dad loves to eat, and during one meal is always asking what the next meal is going to be. I eat simply because I know I need to for survival.

When we go to visit museums Dad reads every single word on every single sign, while I am content simply browsing through and catching the highlights. Family trees are his specialty and knowing all the kin, including second-cousins-once-removed are entertainment for him, but I get lost in the tangle of all the leaves, branches and twigs.

When I am weak, Dad is strong.

In spite of all our differences, we have learned to appreciate the other’s interests. Throughout the years we have come to enjoy our various strengths and weaknesses, although years ago we often annoyed each other with our variances. We are both able to admit our weaknesses more freely and ask for the other’s assistance when we need it. In the beginning it tended to be more of a power struggle of who was the strongest in areas that were really of no importance. I look back and see how foolish it was for us to live like that, but thankfully we have learned.

Although Joni Eareckson Tada wrote May I Borrow Your Hands? back in the 80’s when she was single, she and her husband Ken Tada now sing it to each other at the many events at which they are asked to speak about marriage. It’s a vivid picture of what marriage is meant to be, allowing our husband to be strong when we are weak, and in turn being strong for him when he is weak.

Love, Mom

Go Slow

January 14, 2015 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

Dear Daughters,

The other day I was walking down the hall and there was Dad lying down on the cold tile floor taking a picture of Grandma’s Christmas cactus. Now I know Dad loves to take pictures and they are really good ones, but taking pictures from below the flowers? It is a beautiful plant, but as Dad found out, the real beauty truly came from slowing down, lying below and looking up. I know because I stopped, took the time and laid down beside him to see for myself.

When I was in junior high I loved to play the piano, loud and fast. I hated to play slow songs – they were so boring. Plus, all the kids were impressed when I played fast and loud – spider fingers is what they called me.

Later on in college, Professor Worst would say to me, Slow down, Shari, your music will have so much more life to it if you just go slower. Breathe.

Years ago, when I walked with my friends I loved to walk fast. We would walk and walk and talk. Then when Grandma came to visit, just she and I would go. I would be silently annoyed because she walked slower than I liked, but I would grudgingly adapt to her speed.

When you are in Wyoming and the gas gauge on your car is getting low and there’s not a gas station for another 52 miles, what’s the best thing to do? Slow down so your mileage goes up and maybe, just maybe you can make it to the next town before the tank is empty. (It didn’t always work for us, but in theory it should.)

In my younger years I wanted to be efficient, multi-task, get the most done in the least amount of time. Isn’t that the way a good Christian woman should be? I wanted to do my best for God, which meant to do it quickly and well, or so I thought. I expected the same from God: He should be efficient, answer my prayers soon, maybe not quickly, but I really shouldn’t have to wait too long, should I?

And then I got sick and was laid low, on my back, for weeks. I couldn’t walk around the block, much less walk fast around the block. Of course I was irritated, angry that I didn’t get better quickly.

One day as I was on the couch, lying down and looking up, I read in Isaiah the following words that jumped out from the page:

Woe to those who say, ‘Let God hurry and carry out His plans so that we can see something happening and know that his word is true.’

I was shocked, surprised, and if truth be told, hurt, to read that God was in no hurry to answer my prayers of healing or of anything else I desired, in fact there was a woe attached to hurry. In the past I had been so busy that I had not listened to his voice that also said

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.

Psalm 37:7

A few months ago I was practicing the song Breathe on the piano and it had some difficult parts in it when I was keeping the same speed throughout. But as I was working out the hard spots, having to go slow, I noticed a beauty that I hadn’t heard before. I found that if I took extra time and breathed into the song some times of slowing, stretching the tempo, it came alive and was much more beautiful than simply trying to keep the challenging parts the same speed as the rest of the song. I needed to be reminded again, Go slow. Especially the hard parts.

Eventually I was able to get up and around again after my time on the couch, but I have learned and am still learning to remember to go slow, take time, and

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

Psalm 27:14.

I’m assuming that because the phrase wait for the Lord is stated two times in that little short verse, God is really adamant about waiting. As Ann Voskamp says so often, Life is not an emergency. Breathe.

In our marriages we want changes in our husband, in us and in our kids. When we invite God into our hard parts of life, He will bring about change – but never in a hurried way.

The amazing thing is that while I was on the couch God did an important reconciling work between Dad and I. In the world’s eyes I was not at all productive, but in that time of slowdown He did some important, humbling work in me that could have never been done otherwise.

In God’s eyes relationships are much more important than busyness. I know that God will work out every detail, every hurt, every little thing in you and in your men in His time. Trust Him with your life and your marriage – and go slow.

Love, Mom

All Is Well

December 24, 2014 / Shari Baar / 3 Comments

December 22, 2014

Dear Daughters,

We are far away from all of you this year so I am taking time to remember all the years we were together, just you four daughters, Dad and I. After dinner during the Advent season we would always light a single candle or more and sing Christmas carols together. Even though there may have been misunderstandings, faulty communication and hurts during the day, the singing would somehow make things better, peaceful and good. How those memories have flooded over me this season.

Then came the memories years later when our family was growing – boyfriends, husbands, babies. One memorable Christmas Eve as we were all together there were hurtful words, tears, struggles to understand, brokenness and pain. That night was not what any of us had hoped for or could have predicted. The next morning, Christmas Day, you four girls were scheduled to sing during the worship service. As the evening wore on and we were waiting for understanding and forgiveness, one of the sons-in-law asked what song we were planning to sing. All Is Well was my reply. He said “I think The Old Rugged Cross would be more appropriate at this point.” Personally, I was ready to cancel Christmas altogether. After all the careful planning, meal preparation and hopes of a Silent Night, Holy Night, it had turned into a Painful Night, Tearful Night. I was in no mood to sing, and especially not All Is Well because all was certainly not well in our home that night. But in the midst of the sadness, the heartache that comes with our brokenness, God was there.

It was almost midnight when you girls and I walked over to the empty church building and practiced All Is Well. You sang, I accompanied on the piano and as we practiced, somewhat mechanically, I felt the Spirit of God hovering among us, silently, gently, almost imperceptibly. Hope grew in my heart – that relationships would be restored and love would continue. Exhausted, yet at peace we went home to sleep. The next morning dawned and we quietly gathered ourselves together. We worshiped in faith, still bruised and weary, but we worshiped and sang All Is Well.

Since that time I have pondered many times the fact that all is indeed well, always, whether life is peaceful or whether there is strain. The fact is, Immanuel, God is with us. He’s there in our hard times, he’s there in our joyful times. He never leaves us. He’s working to continually restore relationships and bring reconciliation to those who are willing to forgive.

A Hallmark Christmas ours was not that year, but we learned once again that Jesus came for us, came for families like ours who battle, disagree and hurt each other. He came so that we could be made new, so that we could learn to love and be faithful, so that we could learn to humble ourselves and forgive.

Now, many years later, we are in Idaho and again among families that have battle scars, yet still we sing. On these dark and cold advent nights we are practicing the same tradition with Grandpa and Grandma that we did with you girls so long ago. We light the candles and sing carols, a new tradition for them. Their voices quaver and are not quite as in tune as they used to be. When we go down the scale on Away in A Manger Grandpa goes up and we meet somewhere in the middle, but it is still peaceful and good.

All Is Well.

Love, Mom

North Michigan Cantata

December 10, 2014 / Shari Baar / 0 Comments

December 8, 2008

Dear Daughters,

Last Sunday night our community choir sang its annual Christmas cantata here at Prosper Church. It was beautiful and I must admit it was fabulous to be able to sing in the choir. It’s the first time ever that I haven’t either directed or played the piano for a cantata and it was quite wonderful to simply sing. Having strong men’s voices behind me was such a treat – the men at Prosper Church really love to sing, and many can read music!

The most memorable aspect of the evening, though, was watching Marjon in the front row. She and Carl had been home for just 2 days after spending ten days in the University of Michigan hospital, and she was exhausted. Carl, of course, was unable to attend the cantata, but there was Marjon. On each side of her were two of their daughters, Carla and Alexandra on one, Erin and Maria the other. During one of the songs Marjon started weeping, which caused the daughters (and me) to weep as well. For a few minutes I wasn’t able to sing, I had to look away and pull myself together so I could finish the cantata.

What I have been reminded about this week is that marriage is not just about falling in love, but about commitment ~ keeping promises. Watching Carl and Marjon during these past weeks has really shown me what true love is. Marjon has cared for, fought and cried for her husband. When Dad and I went to visit Carl at home, he told us about his concern for Marjon and the emotional toll it had taken on her. It is simply amazing to see the love they have for each other. They are outspoken about their trust in God and look to Him for daily strength as well as asking for healing, but more importantly that God’s will be done in the whole situation.

This story is much bigger than just Carl and Marjon, it is affecting many other people in the area. All of our marriages touch countless people. You may not know it but others are watching you. If they see you struggling in your marriage yet continue to be faithful and work through difficult times, it often gives them hope and encouragement to keep on being faithful in their own marriage.

Faithfulness in any situation is a rare thing and a bright light in our world today. When a husband and wife keep their wedding promises for months, years, and decades – people take notice. Our society has made it far too easy to break promises, but when you stay faithful to your vows even though it’s not easy, it gives others hope. We’ll never know the impact of our actions until we reach Heaven, but I know God is smiling when He sees faithfulness.

A few years ago I was flying home from Idaho and sitting next to a single guy. We did the usual chit-chat and then he, noticing my wedding ring, asked how long I had been married. When I replied “35 years” he was quite amazed. Then came his next question “What two words would you say helped you stay in a marriage that long?” After thinking a bit I said “Forgiveness and Promises.”

In light of seeing Carl and Marjon and their family’s love and promises kept, I thank you all my precious daughters for the love you have shown to Dad and I. We pray for you and your families every day. Even though our marriage has been through some tough times, I’m so glad that we kept our promises to each other, because we are now reaping the rewards of commitment that we promised so many years ago.

Love, Mom Joy2

Category: Stories and Songs (Page 7 of 8)

Thirty-Nine Years

Trust Me

Arranged Marriages

The Long and Winding Road

You Raise Me Up

I Wonder as I Wander

May I Borrow Your Hands?

Go Slow

All Is Well

North Michigan Cantata

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