My wife has started to catch Dr. Oz occasionally while she fixes dinner. Oz, the Oprah medical discovery, is a wiz at visual illustrations; at explaining clearly the negative effects of certain behaviors on your body and the positive effects of other behaviors and diet.

After undergoing emergency surgery two weeks ago I can appreciate his insights in ways I never could before. 

I also appreciate in new ways the healing power of kind words, thoughtful notes, promises of prayer and calls that offer simply presence. I’ve been overwhelmed with all that in recent weeks and they have a healing effect. Many members of Woman’s Missionary Union leadership team have written to encourage me and I’m grateful.

It’s the time for thanksgiving, isn’t it? I’m thankful for them as I write this while my youngest son is driving 700 miles to come home for Thanksgiving; and as my daughter is prepping her family to cover 100 miles to come for dinner. I’m thankful for the promises of God and for His faithfulness to those promises.

I’m thankful for the house in which my wife has made our home. Six years ago we were frustrated because we were trying to move to Raleigh from High Point and couldn’t find a house we could afford that was close to work. I was driving 100 miles each way to work and we were looking at houses even 40 miles from work; something I’d never want to do, but compared to 100 it seemed like next door.

A friend from Texas came to conduct a seminar in the Raleigh area and we met him for breakfast. When we told him of our frustration in finding a house he asked what we were looking for and we told him precisely. Sue Ellen’s “wish list” for our house was quite precise.

Our friend said, “That sounds like my friend Cliff’s house, and he’s getting ready to sell it to move to a retirement home.” Long story short, that’s the house we’ve lived in nearly six years now. And Cliff and his wife Juanita became dear friends and fellow church members. It took voicing our needs to a friend from far away to make the connection that led to the happiness we’ve had in this house.

The help of friends traverses the miles and the glow of friendship radiates through the years. The same friend who alerted us to Cliff’s house met us with his wife two decades earlier in the yard of the rental house they found for us in Fort Worth as we arrived to attend Southwestern Seminary.

Time burnishes memories, consigning bad ones to the trash and polishing good ones until they glow in the dark. 

We all need the glow of good memories when the shadows fall.  During Thanksgiving, recount those memories that keep the lights burning for you. And give thanks for each victory and trial that sparked their ember.