We all have them.
Memories tied up in wood, or glass. Physical artifacts containing invisible family stories of the people whose blood pulses through our veins. Stories that tie us to the past, but also give us vision and courage for the here and now.
Such an item is my mother’s blue glass bowl.
I’ve passed on to Hanah’s Mama, my daughter Elizabeth, some baby clothes that Elizabeth wore, and family heirlooms such as the dress she was christened in. But the most memorable and perhaps most helpful thing I’ve ever given to Elizabeth is a file folder label with a handwritten note on it…
As I wind the strands of shining multicolored Christmas lights through the branches of my tree, the thought comes into my mind that there is perhaps another galaxy of brightly colored little lights, lights that only God can see…
