Making life count

“Come, let us walk in the light of our God!” – Isaiah 2: 5

One of my children, then aged seven, questioned me as to why everyone refused to talk to her about two young men we knew who were in love with each other. “Mom, as Jesus loved everyone without exception, why would it be different for His loving them?”

You will agree that this was an issue I never expected to be having with my daughter at her young age. But, as she was asking a puzzling question, I felt I needed to help her through the answer. I knew she felt comfortable with our two young friends. She felt loved and accepted by them. They showed patience, kindness and self control while with her. She could sense the love and joy in their lives, and felt their acceptance, and that their appreciation of her was reciprocated. They respected that she was a child with intelligence and did not dismiss her thoughts on any subject.

My daughter is now 46, and, to my surprise, remembered our conversation when she was seven. She has children of her own, and told me that her seven-year old son was just as curious and concerned about the state of the world. She thanked me for being honest with her years ago, and for continuing to be open and honest about difficult situations. While I did not always agree with, or condone, certain behaviours, she knew without a doubt that I loved her. That, is what she is instilling in her three children.

When I was seven we lived in South Africa and race relations were the controversial situations discussed in our home. My father, Arthur Keppel-Jones, was vehement that the colour of one’s skin was not the important thing. He welcomed everyone to our home, which sometimes brought on problems. He despised the reigning government’s belief that only white persons counted. In this apartheid state he spoke out, and wrote articles and books, against their beliefs regularly. He also taught his students at Natal University to value people who did not accept the government’s ruling. We belonged to an Anglican parish where my father was a devout Christian. That meant that his voice counted when he opened his mouth. Eventually his opinions opposing segregation led to his being told to cease or desist. House arrest would have been his only lifestyle. But by then, Queen’s University had offered him employment in the History Department. So we emigrated from South Africa to Canada in 1959. Even then, my father continued to write and speak out against that divisive system until his death in 1996.  

So that is how I learned at an early age to be open and honest about difficult subjects. Eventually I shared that knowledge with my children, and it has obviously been passed along in their lives. I am grateful that it counted. A United Methodist minister, the Reverend Beth A Richardson, wrote the following meaningful prayer: “God of transformation, may your light shine into the shadows of our world, illuminating the way to justice, mercy and love.  Amen.”

Thanks be to God!