Spirit Of Adoption
Stories
Object:
Contents
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "Spirit of Adoption"
Shining Moments: "A Father's Love, A Mother's Good-Bye" by R. Ellen Rasmussen
Sermon Starter: "A New Twist on the Weeds Parable"
What's Up This Week
I like preaching in the summer. I especially like telling stories in my sermons during warm weather. Perhaps it is because summer is front-porch time, which for most of us means listening to and telling the stories of our lives. I cherish the memories of friends and relatives stopping by and visiting with my folks on the front porch. It was there when they didn't think I was listening that I heard some of the best stories I ever heard and learned most of the important stuff that has got me through the trials and tribulations of my adult life. Myrtle Howell's story of adopting prisoners in A Story to Live By and Ellen Rasmussen's personal account of her late father's visitation as she was coming to grips with her mother's imminent death in Shining Moments are front-porch kinds of stories. They are two everyday people like you and me telling about the extraordinary events of their lives.
Jo and I hope those of you who are able will join us for an open house at Willow Bluff Farm in August. See our invitation in the Scrap Pile.
A Story to Live By
Spirit of Adoption
For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption.
Romans 8:14-15a
When Myrtle Howell was 76 years old she felt the need to express her faith in some way. Myrtle read about a prison ministry and decided to write to the warden of the Georgia State Penitentiary. She said: "Dear Warden, My name is Grandma Howell. I've never married and have no children nor grandchildren, but maybe there is a young man in your prison who would like an adopted grandma. If there is such a man, I could write to him every week, pray for him, send him my picture and even some brownies now and then."
The next week, Grandma Howell got a letter from the warden with the names of 20 prisoners who had signed up. They all wanted a grandma! As she corresponded with them, she was shocked by their tender replies. They wrote such things as "Give me some guidance for my life" or "Please write to me, please love me" or "I have done some terrible things, Grandma, can I be forgiven?"
Grandma Howell wrote back to everyone who wrote to her, and she did this weekly from the time she was 76 until she was 91 and became too feeble to continue. She shared herself and her time with these men in need. She offered them love and acceptance.
Shining Moments
A Father's Love, A Mother's Good-Bye
by R. Ellen Rasmussen
I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God...
Romans 8:18-19
Even in the darkest of moments the power of love can shine right through, crossing galaxies to calm and soothe. Here is one daughter's experience.
My father died four days before Easter in 1995. He was a good man, a kind man, a man of justice. Through his death, I experienced wailing and truly knew what it felt like to lose a part of my very being. I eventually realized that because I could feel such a deep loss, I could also feel deep love.
Dad's death caused me to flashback to my high school years, when he worked nights and would always check to make sure I was home and in bed when he got home. Often he would sit at the end of my bed and we would talk about what had happened that day, what was going on in school, whatever. The rest of the house was quiet and Dad and I would talk. As I look back now, I see how wonderful and special that time really was.
During December of 1995, my mom had been ill. I finally got her to the hospital and had her admitted because she was dehydrated. I found out that morning it was more than that. As I walked into my mom's hospital room, I heard her doctor say, "It looks cancerous. We'll know more when we operate tomorrow." Without missing a beat, I continued to walk to my mom's bed and sit down. She didn't want anyone to know. It was our first Christmas without my dad, and she didn't want my brothers and I worrying about her. The tumor causing an obstruction was small and they hoped to remove it all. I spent the day with my mom, and then I went home to make arrangements for my children to be with someone else so I could be at the hospital during her surgery.
That night I had a visit from my dad. Sitting at the foot of my bed, he was so real. His voice was so clear, and his eyes were filled with love. He told me, "Ellen, I know that you are going to do the best for your mom and I know how much you love her. Remember that I love her too, and I am waiting for her. I will take care of her when you no longer can." I woke up. I knew my dad had been there and I knew my mom was dying. I knew I didn't have much time. That was confirmed the next day. The surgery took longer than anticipated, and they said the tumor had already metastasized to her liver and lung. Later I would learn that we had about six months, and that's just what we had.
My mom spent her last six months trying to get everything in place -- making sure my brothers would be okay, making sure that her mom was in an assisted living situation, making her funeral arrangements, making notes at work for the one who would replace her -- trying to make sure everything was just so. The last 36 hours were pretty rough. She didn't know who I was and kept calling me "Grandma Gray." She wanted me to make the pain go away. I was caring for her at home, and I had reached a point where I needed to get some sleep. I couldn't keep going, but she needed someone by her side. I finally convinced one of my brothers to come over.
I went downstairs to my room and tried to get some much-needed sleep. I closed my eyes and all of a sudden my mom was at my doorway, just like she used to appear to get me up for school. In all of our conversations about everything, we had never talked about me. She asked me if I was going to be okay. I told her that I loved her and that I would miss her very much, but yes, eventually I would be okay. My mom left. I woke up with a start and bounded up the stairs. I ran past my startled brother, who asked what I was doing. I said, "Mom needs me." He said, "She's sleeping."
I lost Mom on May 10, 1996, the Friday before Mother's Day. I was blessed to share her final moments. I was able to hold her and tell her how much I loved her and how much I would miss her. She died in my arms, but I knew my dad and God were waiting for her, and that she went from one set of loving arms to another. She just had to wrap up that one loose end before she could go.
R. Ellen Rasmussen is the Director of Christian Nurture and Family Ministries at Covenant United Methodist Church in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.
Sermon Starter
A New Twist on the Weeds Parable
"Master, did you not sow good seed in this field? Where, then, did the weeds come from?"
Matthew 13:27b
Karl Menninger wrote about the parable of the weeds in his landmark book Whatever Became of Sin? He refers to a fragment of a manuscript found or imagined which carries a slightly different version of this parable:
And then the servants counseled together, saying, "It would be much better to pull those weeds right now rather than wait, but we must obey the master even when he is wrong. In the meantime, let us look for the enemy who would do this evil thing to our master, who is kind to everyone and doesn't deserve this treatment." So they quietly inquired and made search in all the region round about, but they could find no one.
But one of the servants came privately to the chief steward at night: "Sir, forgive me, but I can no longer bear to conceal my secret. I know the enemy who sowed the tares. I saw him do it."
At this the chief steward was astonished and full of anger. But before punishing him, he demanded of the servant why he had not come forward sooner.
"I dared not," cried the servant. "I scarcely dared to come and tell you this even now. I was awake the night the weeds were sown. I saw the man who did it; he walked past me, seemingly awake and yet asleep, and he did not appear to recognize me. But I recognized him."
"And who was he indeed?" asked the chief steward in great excitement. "Tell me, so that he can be punished."
The servant hung his head. Finally in a low voice he replied, "It was the master himself."
And the two agreed to say nothing of this to any one.
(Karl Menninger, Whatever Became of Sin?, Bantam, 1984, pp. 13-14) **************
About the Editors
John E. Sumwalt is the pastor of Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church in Milwaukee, and is the author of eight books for CSS. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (UDTS), John received the Herbert Manning Jr. award for Parish Ministry from UDTS in 1997. John is known in the Milwaukee area for his one-minute radio spots which always include a brief story. He concludes each spot by saying, "I'm John Sumwalt with 'A Story to Live By' from Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church."
John has done numerous storytelling events for civic, school, and church groups, as well as on radio and television. He has performed at a number of fundraisers for the homeless, the hungry, Habitat for Humanity, and women's shelters. Since the fall of 1999, when he began working on the Vision Stories series, he has led seminars and retreats around the themes "A Safe Place to Tell Visions," "Vision Stories in the Bible and Today," and coming this spring: "Soul Growth: Discovering Lost Spiritual Dimensions." To schedule a seminar or a retreat, write to jsumwalt@naspa.net or phone 414-257-1228.
Joanne Perry-Sumwalt is director of Christian Education at Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church in Milwaukee. Jo is a graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Parkside, with a degree in English and writing. She has co-authored two books with John, Life Stories: A Study In Christian Decision Making and Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit: 62 Stories For Cycle B. Jo writes original curriculum for church classes. She also serves as the secretary of the Wisconsin chapter of the Christian Educators Fellowship (CEF), and is a member of the National CEF.
Jo and John have been married since 1975. They have two grown children, Kathryn and Orrin. They both love reading, movies, long walks with Chloe (their West Highland Terrier), and working on their old farmhouse in southwest Wisconsin.
**********************************************
StoryShare, July 17, 2005, issue.
Copyright 2005 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "Spirit of Adoption"
Shining Moments: "A Father's Love, A Mother's Good-Bye" by R. Ellen Rasmussen
Sermon Starter: "A New Twist on the Weeds Parable"
What's Up This Week
I like preaching in the summer. I especially like telling stories in my sermons during warm weather. Perhaps it is because summer is front-porch time, which for most of us means listening to and telling the stories of our lives. I cherish the memories of friends and relatives stopping by and visiting with my folks on the front porch. It was there when they didn't think I was listening that I heard some of the best stories I ever heard and learned most of the important stuff that has got me through the trials and tribulations of my adult life. Myrtle Howell's story of adopting prisoners in A Story to Live By and Ellen Rasmussen's personal account of her late father's visitation as she was coming to grips with her mother's imminent death in Shining Moments are front-porch kinds of stories. They are two everyday people like you and me telling about the extraordinary events of their lives.
Jo and I hope those of you who are able will join us for an open house at Willow Bluff Farm in August. See our invitation in the Scrap Pile.
A Story to Live By
Spirit of Adoption
For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption.
Romans 8:14-15a
When Myrtle Howell was 76 years old she felt the need to express her faith in some way. Myrtle read about a prison ministry and decided to write to the warden of the Georgia State Penitentiary. She said: "Dear Warden, My name is Grandma Howell. I've never married and have no children nor grandchildren, but maybe there is a young man in your prison who would like an adopted grandma. If there is such a man, I could write to him every week, pray for him, send him my picture and even some brownies now and then."
The next week, Grandma Howell got a letter from the warden with the names of 20 prisoners who had signed up. They all wanted a grandma! As she corresponded with them, she was shocked by their tender replies. They wrote such things as "Give me some guidance for my life" or "Please write to me, please love me" or "I have done some terrible things, Grandma, can I be forgiven?"
Grandma Howell wrote back to everyone who wrote to her, and she did this weekly from the time she was 76 until she was 91 and became too feeble to continue. She shared herself and her time with these men in need. She offered them love and acceptance.
Shining Moments
A Father's Love, A Mother's Good-Bye
by R. Ellen Rasmussen
I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God...
Romans 8:18-19
Even in the darkest of moments the power of love can shine right through, crossing galaxies to calm and soothe. Here is one daughter's experience.
My father died four days before Easter in 1995. He was a good man, a kind man, a man of justice. Through his death, I experienced wailing and truly knew what it felt like to lose a part of my very being. I eventually realized that because I could feel such a deep loss, I could also feel deep love.
Dad's death caused me to flashback to my high school years, when he worked nights and would always check to make sure I was home and in bed when he got home. Often he would sit at the end of my bed and we would talk about what had happened that day, what was going on in school, whatever. The rest of the house was quiet and Dad and I would talk. As I look back now, I see how wonderful and special that time really was.
During December of 1995, my mom had been ill. I finally got her to the hospital and had her admitted because she was dehydrated. I found out that morning it was more than that. As I walked into my mom's hospital room, I heard her doctor say, "It looks cancerous. We'll know more when we operate tomorrow." Without missing a beat, I continued to walk to my mom's bed and sit down. She didn't want anyone to know. It was our first Christmas without my dad, and she didn't want my brothers and I worrying about her. The tumor causing an obstruction was small and they hoped to remove it all. I spent the day with my mom, and then I went home to make arrangements for my children to be with someone else so I could be at the hospital during her surgery.
That night I had a visit from my dad. Sitting at the foot of my bed, he was so real. His voice was so clear, and his eyes were filled with love. He told me, "Ellen, I know that you are going to do the best for your mom and I know how much you love her. Remember that I love her too, and I am waiting for her. I will take care of her when you no longer can." I woke up. I knew my dad had been there and I knew my mom was dying. I knew I didn't have much time. That was confirmed the next day. The surgery took longer than anticipated, and they said the tumor had already metastasized to her liver and lung. Later I would learn that we had about six months, and that's just what we had.
My mom spent her last six months trying to get everything in place -- making sure my brothers would be okay, making sure that her mom was in an assisted living situation, making her funeral arrangements, making notes at work for the one who would replace her -- trying to make sure everything was just so. The last 36 hours were pretty rough. She didn't know who I was and kept calling me "Grandma Gray." She wanted me to make the pain go away. I was caring for her at home, and I had reached a point where I needed to get some sleep. I couldn't keep going, but she needed someone by her side. I finally convinced one of my brothers to come over.
I went downstairs to my room and tried to get some much-needed sleep. I closed my eyes and all of a sudden my mom was at my doorway, just like she used to appear to get me up for school. In all of our conversations about everything, we had never talked about me. She asked me if I was going to be okay. I told her that I loved her and that I would miss her very much, but yes, eventually I would be okay. My mom left. I woke up with a start and bounded up the stairs. I ran past my startled brother, who asked what I was doing. I said, "Mom needs me." He said, "She's sleeping."
I lost Mom on May 10, 1996, the Friday before Mother's Day. I was blessed to share her final moments. I was able to hold her and tell her how much I loved her and how much I would miss her. She died in my arms, but I knew my dad and God were waiting for her, and that she went from one set of loving arms to another. She just had to wrap up that one loose end before she could go.
R. Ellen Rasmussen is the Director of Christian Nurture and Family Ministries at Covenant United Methodist Church in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.
Sermon Starter
A New Twist on the Weeds Parable
"Master, did you not sow good seed in this field? Where, then, did the weeds come from?"
Matthew 13:27b
Karl Menninger wrote about the parable of the weeds in his landmark book Whatever Became of Sin? He refers to a fragment of a manuscript found or imagined which carries a slightly different version of this parable:
And then the servants counseled together, saying, "It would be much better to pull those weeds right now rather than wait, but we must obey the master even when he is wrong. In the meantime, let us look for the enemy who would do this evil thing to our master, who is kind to everyone and doesn't deserve this treatment." So they quietly inquired and made search in all the region round about, but they could find no one.
But one of the servants came privately to the chief steward at night: "Sir, forgive me, but I can no longer bear to conceal my secret. I know the enemy who sowed the tares. I saw him do it."
At this the chief steward was astonished and full of anger. But before punishing him, he demanded of the servant why he had not come forward sooner.
"I dared not," cried the servant. "I scarcely dared to come and tell you this even now. I was awake the night the weeds were sown. I saw the man who did it; he walked past me, seemingly awake and yet asleep, and he did not appear to recognize me. But I recognized him."
"And who was he indeed?" asked the chief steward in great excitement. "Tell me, so that he can be punished."
The servant hung his head. Finally in a low voice he replied, "It was the master himself."
And the two agreed to say nothing of this to any one.
(Karl Menninger, Whatever Became of Sin?, Bantam, 1984, pp. 13-14) **************
About the Editors
John E. Sumwalt is the pastor of Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church in Milwaukee, and is the author of eight books for CSS. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (UDTS), John received the Herbert Manning Jr. award for Parish Ministry from UDTS in 1997. John is known in the Milwaukee area for his one-minute radio spots which always include a brief story. He concludes each spot by saying, "I'm John Sumwalt with 'A Story to Live By' from Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church."
John has done numerous storytelling events for civic, school, and church groups, as well as on radio and television. He has performed at a number of fundraisers for the homeless, the hungry, Habitat for Humanity, and women's shelters. Since the fall of 1999, when he began working on the Vision Stories series, he has led seminars and retreats around the themes "A Safe Place to Tell Visions," "Vision Stories in the Bible and Today," and coming this spring: "Soul Growth: Discovering Lost Spiritual Dimensions." To schedule a seminar or a retreat, write to jsumwalt@naspa.net or phone 414-257-1228.
Joanne Perry-Sumwalt is director of Christian Education at Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church in Milwaukee. Jo is a graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Parkside, with a degree in English and writing. She has co-authored two books with John, Life Stories: A Study In Christian Decision Making and Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit: 62 Stories For Cycle B. Jo writes original curriculum for church classes. She also serves as the secretary of the Wisconsin chapter of the Christian Educators Fellowship (CEF), and is a member of the National CEF.
Jo and John have been married since 1975. They have two grown children, Kathryn and Orrin. They both love reading, movies, long walks with Chloe (their West Highland Terrier), and working on their old farmhouse in southwest Wisconsin.
**********************************************
StoryShare, July 17, 2005, issue.
Copyright 2005 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
