Time Apart - Day 1

Day 1 of our six-week leave of absence from Salem and our duties there has proven itself to be pristine. After a long night of heavy rain it is in the low 70s under clear blue skies with a warm wind out of the west. The sign welcomes you as it welcomed us yesterday and will welcome our son Paul and his family yet again about 1:00 a.m. tomorrow.

It has been a good day, shopping to fill the larder for days with family, planting flowers to regale the deck and dock, and a sumptuous nap followed by coffee with an ever-remarkable Paul Bunyan sugared donut. "Valkommen till Hembygden and Nybygden," the old (1949) and newer (1987) cabins joined now into one. History abounds here, as years of guest registers will attest, and sacred memories flow through every year of that history, not only to bless and refresh us but--as all things sacred should--to prepare us for life and duties that await us at home.

Not far off to the left as you drive in up on the hill is a tree planted as a seedling a few years ago by our grandson, Matthew--then a grade schooler in the south of Minneapolis, soon a sophomore at De Paul University in Chicago. Every year taller, it is one more living reminder of God's grace to us, as well as our responsibilities to him for nature, our own loved ones, and the whole human family. Unto whom much is given, much will also be required.

This evening we will dip warm chicken egg rolls in sweet and sour sauce, and mix it all with rice, feasting on yet more of God's good provisions. And we will remember as we always do to give thanks--to bless the Lord with all our souls and forget not all his benefits. Then we will go down and spend the evening at lakeside, taking in what will likely be a wonderful sunset as we await the coming of our family's first wave to sweep in for a few days.

The Dutch door that Grandpa Eric made years ago in old Hembygden, hand-painted by his beloved Lydia, sums it all up--past, present, and future. Quoting Eric Gustaf Geijer, the Swedish hsitorian, he wrote of Hembygden in his childhood tongue: Ma dess minne vara som ett solsken i mitt brost, which being interpreted says: May its memory be as a sunshine in my breast. It was for both of them and is still for us, as well as our offspring and guests.