collecting stories

Postcards from the past…

IMG_1030 I found a box in an old antique store, dusty with age. There was a piece of paper sticking out, and curious, I pried it open. Inside were hundreds of postcards dating from 1909 to 1951. Looking at the illustrations and reading the notes scribbled across the back was a delight in the truest sense of the word…I remember looking up and being surprised that hours (not minutes!) had passed. Thankfully, they were quite cheap, so I got a few. Starting next Wednesday, and throughout the end of October, I'll share these delightful little missives with you all. My favorite was from a soldier- from the dates and his conversation, it was obvious he was heading into battle. I've been wondering ever since- did he live? did he die? did he make it home safe to the mother he was so desperately trying to be brave for?
    I think its woefully sad that these pieces of history have been abandoned, that the stories of the 'greatest generation' have fallen into the dust, unheard and unknown. What a rich treasure of jewels they are! One of my goals during this trip is to ask the questions, to hear the stories of my grandparents…to honor the rich legacy of their lives that they have lived bridging two centuries, and two completely different ways of life, from lives where radios were a luxury, thrift and generosity were bywords instead of bad words. Oh, I am in no way glorifying the past. But I do know that there are lessons to be heard, if we'll only listen.
    Perhaps that is why I have been enjoying Hebrews and Acts so much lately…this year I have studied Ephesians, James, 1 John, Hosea, Isaiah, Hebrews, and Acts. It fascinates me how it all fits together, this inspired Word. Hebrews and Acts are just this amazing trip down the Way of Christ, where many have trodden. Oh how it gives me hope! Reading them both is like reading postcards from the edge, where it all started, where it all began. You feel the breathless, 'did you just see that?' in the words, seemingly scribbled between times of great adventure, like being in jail or getting shipwrecked. I find myself daring to pray for that sort of reckless faith, and then I am half afraid of just where this Wild, Untamed God of mine is going to take me next…

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