July 4th, Easter Baskets and Christmas Morning

I remember when I was about 9 or 10. My grandmother (paternal) used to make us all matching outfits for various holidays. I assume this memory is of July 4th, because we lived in Massachusetts that year and it didn't even get really warm until about July (Memorial Day was probably still a bit chilly).

I don't know why I remember this year in particular but my three younger sisters and I all wore blue and white striped seersucker jumpers (there was some red rick-rack, I think) and my brother had some type of little outfit to match. I have a copy of a picture somewhere of all of us in those outfits. I remember thinking I looked so pretty! I thought we all looked so great! The little outfits were sewn with love and care. They represented my grandmother's love to me.

Some of my favorite photos from my childhood are those where we all "went together." I don't know how my mom did it, but more often than not, we looked clean, combed and dressed impeccably in coordinating, matching, or "go together" clothes -- no small feat for a mom with for four young girls and baby boy.

I think of those outfits every year on July 4th. I remember so much about that house and the wonderful basement where my sisters and I played for hours! I remember the room my dad built from the ground up so he would have office space to work in. I didn't realize at the time that all parents aren't that intentional and devoted to their children. They aren't all handy and able to make do and often even "make something wonderful out of nothing."

My parents did that for us. They set the bar pretty high! They were far from perfect. But I like to think I received from them the best of both of them. All the things in me that are creative, handy, resourceful, passionate and compassionate came from them. I know July 4th is an odd time to honor one's parents. But fireworks, trick or treating, Easter baskets and Christmas mornings are all tied up together in my mind and my heart, especially the older I get.

So I am blessed to have had parents who God hand-picked for me. He brought them together so that I and my sisters and brother would have exactly the skills, talents, gifts and graces God planned for us to have. Then he gave us their presence and their love so that as we grew up we would become the best of each of them and the best of them as a couple.

There were some things in my childhood that I didn't enjoy. But as I've grown in my faith and in my ardent desire to surrender more and more of my life to Christ, those memories fade. As I learn about forgiveness - of others and especially of myself - I am able to "forget" the pain and unpleasantness, though not the lesson.

The other night I heard Dr. Wayne Dyer make a statement that strikes me as so profound I can't stop thinking about it. It applies to our childhoods, to our parenting, to our jobs, to every aspect of our lives: "Everything that has happened to you was supposed to happen. How do we know that's true? Because it happened!"

So today as the sun sets on this July 3 I rejoice in everything that has happened in my life and in the memories that bubble to the surface that give me joy and make me wistful and remind me of the legacy God prepared for me long before he made the first star in the sky.