A Three-Fold Cord

I've been pondering the levels or spheres of attachment this last week.  My side of the family held a reunion on Sunday at my uncle's house.  My paternal grandparents, who had only two sons, and who have been gone from this earth for thirty and fifty years, currently have 99 descendants to the fourth generation, most of whom gathered to celebrate - in the past, we have gotten together for Christmas, but now it's too hard with so many married grandchildren, so we're going to try for an annual summer party.

Astonishingly, all eighteen families retain a vibrant Christian faith.  Therefore, when we shared an update about Joel's situation, we knew that everyone present has been praying for him and for us.  In fact, most of them have put Joel on their church prayer chains or have mentioned him to their groups of friends.  And most have posted messages, emailed or even visited.  

The three spheres of attachment I'm identifying are 1) family; 2) friends, and 3) Christian family.  With my dad's side of the family, we share two of the three levels; we are family and we are Christian family.   That gives them an extra incentive to care for us.  With some of them, we are also friends.  The triple bond is the strongest of all.  

I notice that people who have only one bond with us -  family members who aren't believers or with whom we don't spend much time, friends who aren't believers, or fellow Christians who aren't family or friends - sympathize and wish us well, but those with two bonds are more involved.  And those with the triple bond - especially our siblings, with whom we share blood, faith and friendship - do things like change their basement office into an extra bedroom so that I can have my own space to stay in (this is what the Jones family just did).   We're so thankful for all the people the Lord has bonded to us.

A Lost Letter

Yesterday I proctored a test for John K. When he was done, I had to scan it in, email it to the professor, and then put it in the mail. It was almost supper time when I had it ready, and I asked Andrew, who was going down to the mailbox with Philip to get the mail, to put the envelope in the mailbox for me. He took it and they left. When the food was ready, Andrew & Philip weren't back in yet. We went ahead without them because Sarah & Andrew had to go to confirmation, so we figured Andrew would have to postpone his supper until after class.

When the car had to leave, Andrew still wasn't back, so Pete left with Sarah and picked him up on the driveway. Philip came in and took off all his snow stuff, then sat down to eat. "Andrew lost the letter," he nonchalantly informed me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It fell out of his pocket."

"Did you find it?"

"No."

"Is that why you were so late - you were looking for it?"

"Yep."

"Where did he lose it?" I finally got out of Philip that when they arrived at the mailbox, Andrew dug in his pocket - sort of like a hoodie pocket, stretching all the way across his jacket front - and the letter wasn't there. So it could be anywhere between the mailbox and the house - almost a quarter mile.

By this time, Pete had returned and we quizzed Philip some more on what had happened. Pete said, "It's snowing - if we don't find it now, it will get buried." Pete & Philip got their snowsuits on, picked up flashlights and went out to look, praying all the while.

I felt terrible. It was my responsibility to get the letter in the mail. My thoughts ran frantically over my options, John's options, what the professor would say or do. "At least it was scanned in and sent to her, so she does have it," was my only hope.

To my great relief, when the guys came in, they had an envelope! "Thank You, Lord!" I exclaimed. It had blown out of the pocket into the yard, and become stuck on the trampoline. It struck me later that I should be thankful that Andrew had remembered he had the letter - if he hadn't, it could have been lost and no one would have known until the professor emailed me to find out where it was. Then we would have been searching Andrew's coat pockets for days.

As I was cleaning the kitchen, waiting for Pete & Philip to come back, and praying that they would find the letter, it occurred to me that this was a great example of Christlike service - here were Pete & Philip, searching in the cold dark night for something that wasn't their responsibility and that they hadn't lost. They were helping me and helping Andrew with no thought of recompense.

Thanks, guys!