A Kitchen Table and a Box of Memories

My family matriarch opened a box of old pictures, trinkets, and treasures. One by one, each was lifted from the memory box, and stories were shared—some old and familiar, others new to me. Sitting around the kitchen table, time slowed as sisters paused to hear of loved ones of the past. Family stories and history unfolded that day.

Between the belly laughs, tears were also shared. Days of yesterday sliding into the present were remembered and tenderly told.

Items from the treasured box were held and examined. However, one piece I had never seen before that rainy afternoon was a War Ration book from World War 2 with family names on the front cover. The books were worn, but clearly printed were the names of family, some still alive and others who were once with us. Some books still had ration stamps within—reading stamp no; 1, rationed stamp no; 2, Ration stamp no. 3, etc., with pictures of war vessels in the background.

Rationed stamps were used as people fought to survive in a difficult time. Each person received 64 red stamps per month, and a family of four had 256 points available. Items such as coffee, sugar, processed foods, canned milk, cheese, etc. were rationed. Supplies were limited, times were difficult, and lives were lost as young boys went to war.

You do not know of people's hard when you hardly take time to listen. You don't believe miracles of the past until the miracles are recalled and spoken. When grown adults share and grown children listen, family stories are understood a little better. Relationships are built, and memories become a part of who we are. After a few hours of talking and listening, the family bond was closer than before.

You do not know of people's hard when you hardly take time to listen.

My mind travels from people counting stamps, stretching food, and watching lives taken to people's hurts today. Friend, I do not know what difficult situation you are facing, but I know we all have trying and difficult days. In this broken world, we will face heartache. But when I struggle, I focus on the goodness of our God. Mark Batterson states in his book The Grace Robbers that "God is still sovereign no matter what, even in our most difficult struggle. He still knows my name. Angels still respond to his call. The hearts of rulers still bend at his bidding. The death of Jesus still saves souls. The Spirit of God still indwells saints. Heaven is still only heart beats away. The grave is still temporary housing. God is still faithful. He is not caught off guard. He uses tragedy to accomplish his will, which is right, holy, and perfect. Sorrow may come with the night, but joy comes with the morning."

"Sorrow may come with the night, but joy comes with the morning."

Why does God allow suffering on this earth? We will ask such questions until the grave. But don't let the questions you can not answer keep you from trusting what is true about our God. "He is God, and He is good, and He is good at being God," as Lysa TerKeurst states.

In the words of Corrie Ten Boom, "There is no pit so deep that God 's grace isn't deeper still."

Friend, what family memories do you need to share today? Where have you seen God in your past and present story? What tales do you need to share? I encourage you to remember your story against the backdrop of His. For He is God, and we are not.

Remember your story against the backdrop of His.