Tag: memories
Happy and Grandpa Having Fun My First Attempt at Making a YouTube Short
I was watching a video about increasing Etsy sales, and someone mentioned that they used Youtube shorts to help advertise their items. I had already been mulling the idea of making a short, and decided that now was the time to learn. Since I had absolutely no idea how to make one, I decided to make a few practice videos using some of Happy’s old footage to see how it works.
I found an old video of my father playing with Happy. The video is short, but dear to my heart as at it is one of the last clips of my father sitting up looking energetic and so Happy. Sadly, after he fell and broke two of his ribs his health was never the same. Thankfully we got a few more years with him, but every time that I see a clip like this I long for those hard, but comforting days when I had all my loved ones close. And I cannot help but long for the day when we will all be together again. That feeling has definitely been heightened after a tough week where it seems like everything that can go wrong, is going wrong and many things have happened to create a great uncertainty about the future.
Yet even in all this God has been gracious and granted us comfort. I can watch this video with tears in my heart because I miss my father, yet I can also have great joy as with deep longing I look forward to the happiness of the resurrection morning when Jesus will call my father and so many other loved ones from their resting place. With a great shout He will call his sleeping servants from their dusty beds, transformed into his pure image, never again to come under the dominion of pain, suffering, sickness, or death. Oh how I long for that hour when the dead in Christ shall rise first and then we who are alive shall join them.
Oh how I desire to be part of that rejoicing throng. How I pray that I will let the Lord cut, prune, and weed out every sin from my heart so that I will hear the blessing, “Well done my good and faithful servant” and my heart will leap with joy to know that I have been counted worthy to sing the song of the Lamb, and spend the rest of eternity thanking my Savior for his unbelievable sacrifice so that my sins, the sins of my loved ones, and all who desire could be washed cleaned. So that we could once again walk the streets of gold, eat from the tree of life, and have an endless lifetime to make and enjoy more memories with our loved ones.
I hope that as you watch this short little clip of my father and Happy playing together that you will not only recollect some of your dearest memories, but that the prayer of your heart would be to except God’s great gift and that nothing this world offer would stand between you and becoming a part of that rejoicing throng.
Cantad alegres al Señor
Whenever I hear this hymn I am transported back to my childhood. It is Friday evening, the sun is setting, and I am sitting on my Grandparents sofa. My Great-grandmother is sitting on the lazy boy rocker. Her hair is white as snow and her memory is in the first stages of fading away. My Grandmother is sitting to her right on a wooden rocker and my Grandfather is on the sofa nearest to the light.
With hymn books in hand we have gathered in the small living room to join together in worship to welcome the Sabbath. The fact that my Father, sister, and I barely know a word of Spanish does not matter, because unlike my Great-Grandmother and Grandfather, my Grandmother can only speak a little bit of English.
Our ability to communicate with her without the aid of my Mother or Grandfather to translate is limited. Making it impossible to sit down and freely speak with her as we would like. But for that one moment, as we sat down for worship and lifted our voices in song the communication gap was gone.
It is true that we did not understand all words, but that did not matter because we knew that it was hymn of praise to God. And oh what a glorious moment as we lifted our voices. For that brief moment the language barrier seemed to fade as our voice united in praise to God and by faith our hearts were carried to that glorious day when Jesus would return and at last we would be free to sit and talk. The language barrier would be no more, and the words that we had spent a lifetime longing to share would at last be able to freely flow.
As I listen to the words of Cantad algres al Senor, my heart beats with delight as I remember those precious few evenings. With cloudy eyes I think back to the joy that filled my heart and how I miss those Friday nights. For sadly those evenings are no more as both my Great-Grandmother and my Grandfather now lay quietly in the tomb waiting for that longed for day when Jesus shall call them forth to take part in that glorious family reunion wherwe shall once again lift up our voices to sing praises to our King.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igRZmqwRXGY&list=PLpJLNMvVguU0oZIkFlzPK2sNaQ4SWGyVW
ODE TO A FAITHFUL NATASHA DOG
I came across this poem the other day and it brought back so many memories. My family was privileged to have Natasha in our lives for 9 wonderful years. Like my adorable little Happy, she slept on a pillow in the corner of my room and followed me wherever I went. She was a wonderful friend and faithful companion. More than once my special pup had found a way to alert my parents to the fact that I was in need of medical care. One time she spent over an hour going from the front window over to my Father, then over to me to smell my breath, before heading back to the window. When my Father figured out that she was trying to tell us that something was seriously wrong and called 911, I had to be rushed to the nearest hospital because my blood pressure and pulse were both over 200. Or the time she cried mum with such pathos that I knew my Mother needed to go to the ER, and ended up spending a week in the hospital because she had water building in her lungs
There is so much more that I would love to say about my special dog. How she loved to sneak bones out of the box when we were gone. Not so she could eat them, but so she could hide them in the sofa, chairs, or even our made beds so we could find them and play a game of chase with her when we returned. How like Happy, she found joy in startling my mother. Of the time she gave us a fright when she found my plate of chocolate chip cookies and ate every last one when no one was looking, the way she hated riding past run down homes, and the proud smile on her face when we finally moved into our dream home.
reflectionsaboutlifedotcom 