
Does the anniversary of a significant day or event sometimes sneak up on you? You write the date or your smart phone sends you a remember this photo you took six years ago? message, and you suddenly remember this date is special.
Last Monday was my parents 69th wedding anniversary. The day before, my son’s birthday. But the anniversary that’s taking me by surprise is today … 49 years ago I graduated high school. I actually did forget this date telling someone recently it was the 26th of May but it really was the 28th. 49 years! Some of you are probably thinking, graciously, 49 is long in my rear-view mirror, girl! Some of you reading this are, for sure, thinking – Colleen is ancient; did she go to school in horse and buggy?! Nope. School buses were my daily transport driven grades 4-12 by a guy named Mr. Chris.
He was older than my parents, crusty and musty, stern voiced but gentle in heart. It only took one ride on any other bus route in the district to recognize Mr. Chris’ standards were not enforced across the board. I don’t know how long he’d been a bus driver before we met him but Mr. Chris was on that job well beyond the years we Camerons were his first pick-up and last drop-off.
The thing I remember was that I felt safe under Mr. Chris’ watch. The teen boy intimidations of the younger kids were corralled and squashed. The obviously sad child was allowed to sit up front near the command seat. The littlest were granted the time to hug mommy or daddy one more time before they climbed those huge steps up into the bus.
Half-way through the route one winter morning, two brothers had spent their bus-stop wait climbing on the roof of their family garage and jumping into the snow piles under the eaves. As the bus arrived at their stop, older brother ran laughing to climb on the bus telling Mr. Chris “My brother is stuck in the snow!” Younger brother had jumped off the roof into the snowbank and sunk deep into the fresh piled snow. And now his legs were stuck. Mr. Chris parked the bus, grabbed his shovel, and dug the kid out. While we all watched and laughed, Mr. Chris helped him out of the snowbank and to get all the snow out of his boots. And as we scrambled back to our seats, we cheered for Mr. Chris and his rescued rider as they climbed on-board and the route continued.
Good stuff. Good memories. Good example of a man doing his job with humility and kindness while keeping us all on the straight and narrow so far as his influence could. And bringing that sense of security and being watched over, cared for, that I craved from my childhood into my adulthood when I finally realized Who was my security and safety and rest.
About 25 years after the snowbound kid event, I met the Lord when my heart was broken and my thoughts were heavy and hard. I was stuck in the mire of living life without security or safety or rest. Day to day, anniversary to anniversary, life is full of potholes and curvy roads and snowbanks. But it is also full of good people, honorable people, treating one another as if they are precious in the sight of the Lord. Because they are, even if they’re stuck in the snowbank or the muddy mire.
In some of our small groups we have spent four weeks reading the Book of Ruth. It takes about 12-15 minutes to read all four chapters. But four weeks hasn’t been long-enough to plumb the depths of the rich care God orchestrates for two cast-down, disadvantaged women. God provides a redeemer for Ruth and her mother-in-law, the security and rest we each crave. A foretaste of the redemption the Messiah is for each who believes. Remarkable!
The LORD grant that you may find rest, each of you … Ruth 1.9
I encourage you to read Ruth regularly as you consider your anniversary-moments with an eye to seeing God’s fingerprints all over your life. Even when you didn’t yet know Him or were so sad you couldn’t remember Him, because He never forgets you.
With joy for the redemption by our Lord, Colleen