Sunday, January 31, 2016

The Treasures in the Box (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

I got a surprise ---well, surprises--- this week.

I looked out the front door and saw a small box snugged up against the brick wall. That wasn't surprising; we get quite a few boxes. The surprise, the first one anyway, is that it was addressed to me. There are many boxes arriving at our door, but few of them are addressed to me.

I have a small confession. I love it when a box is addressed to me; feels like Christmas or my birthday all over again. I thought that might diminish as I grew older, but it hasn't. It's one of the ongoing joys of my life. As soon as I see my name on the box, I feel the endorphin rush and that goofy grin spreading across my face. Every single time.

I already loved it and I hadn't even opened it.

The second surprise, and definitely the bigger surprise is what I found inside: letters, 30 or 40 of them, and all of them from the mystery that was my father.

You could get to know Dad, but only the pieces he chose to reveal. As father and son, Dad and I occupied the same residence for about two decades. Then I knew him, adult-to-adult so to speak, for almost three more decades. All of those years, and yet, I knew very little about him. It seems like other people can rattle off tale after tale of each parent's childhood, school years, romances, and careers. And I can do some of that, but there is a very, very limited supply of those stories about Dad. He just didn't share much with us.

Maybe he was, as I have always assumed, just a very private person. He definitely personified the saying, "Still waters run deep." He was also, in my view, the kind of person who, "kept his own counsel." In recent years, I have concluded Dad may well have been an introvert, living deep within himself and only surfacing from time to time to interact with the rest of us as needed.

The period of Dad's life of which I know the least is his service during World War II. Dad rarely talked about the war. This puzzled me as a child; many a childhood friend told me tales of their father's service. But as I became an adult, and several of my own friends were returning from the Vietnam War, I gained some understanding. Some things are too hard to recall, much less tell to children. In time, I just packed away all my questions about that time in his life, accepting that he might never be able to tell me more than the very handful of stories he had already shared.

The box was from my cousin, the daughter of one of dad's sisters. The letters? Almost all from Dad during World War II.

I immediately opened the letter on top. Dad's handwriting was difficult for me to read. But I could understand enough to realize just what a treasure I now possessed. Here was a young man with a lightness of spirit I never saw in my Dad. He was having a little fun with my aunt and uncle. My Dad, funny. Funny! Mind-blowing. And then, not three sentences in, he referred to his "wife."

Wait. What?!

Dad didn't meet my mother until AFTER the war. Who was this wife? And where did she go? I checked a couple more of the letters; all referenced his wife. After the shock, I found myself experiencing something else, a kind of hope. I will learn something new about my father, and from his own hand.

I am amazed to have such a treasure appear at this point of my life. In time, we will transcribe them and share their content with my sister and the rest of the family. Thousands of questions have resurrected themselves, now; questions I had long ago decided could never be answered. I can no longer ask Dad. It's likely I will never, "understand all mysteries." But at least now, I may get some answers.

And get to know him a little better.

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See more reflections at
http://steveorr.blogspot.com
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/

Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany (January 31, 2016)
First reading
Jeremiah 1:4-10
Psalm
Psalm 71:1-6
Second reading
1 Corinthians 13:1-13
Gospel
Luke 4:21-30
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Winter continues, but it's warm at Lectionary Breakfast! Can you gather with us Friday morning at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant? We start at 8:00, enjoying an hour (ish) of food, friendships, and illumination from God's word.

Mysteries are revealed.

Enjoy the week!
Steve