I have invited my sister-in-law, Anne Snider, to contribute to my blog for the next couple of months. I trust God will use her words to encourage you, as they have encouraged me.
My mother was the daughter of a very prestigious upper class landowner in South Devon, England. She was raised on a sprawling estate, sent to private schools and taught the Queen’s English. She became so disillusioned after her fiancé, a prisoner of war in a German camp, broke off their engagement that she hastily joined the Royal Air Force and became a Morse Code Operator. My father was a Canadian Pilot Officer with the RAF coastal command and, unbeknownst to her, was certainly of lower class standing. They met in a pub in Scotland when they were both on leave and married after knowing each other for less than forty eight hours. My mother just wanted to leave England and her memories of her one true love.
She never felt at home here in this vast country. She disliked the cold, harsh winters and the hot, humid summers. She always spoke in glowing terms of her homeland, especially the seaside, and traveled back there every couple of years leaving my father to care for five rambunctious children. In July of 1969, just a month before I was to marry, she took my sister and me with her back to her beloved England. We flew into Heathrow Airport then took the train to Kingsbridge. I vividly remember the clickity clack of the train’s wheels on the rails.
South Devon is a county in England with the English Channel on its east coast. It is the most beautiful part of England and is home to some of the most spectacular beaches in the world. These sandy beaches have become known as the 'English Riviera.' We visited my aunt who lived in Torquay, a small seaside resort town right on the English Channel, and spent the day at Babbacombe Beach. It was the first time I had ever been to a salt water beach and the white sand was glorious on my bare feet. No wonder my mother loved her homeland so much. It was incredulous!
There were children building sand castles, folks sunbathing and others just strolling along soaking in the warmth of the sun. Sand is an amazing substance. I discovered that sand is composed of sand grains which range in size from 1/16 to 2 mm. It’s virtually impossible to count the grains of sand as they are so small. That’s why it amazes me when I read Psalm 139:17-18: “So precious are your thoughts of me, O God; they cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand." What imagery! The God who knew me before the foundation of the world thinks about me all the time. I am always on His mind. He’s thinking about you right now too. Let's praise Him and thank Him for His constant love, care and thoughts about us for "they outnumber the grains of sand."
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