Anna Resurget

It is Anna’s birthday today. Let’s see . . . 1999 to 2022. She would be 23 today? Oh my.

Of course, Anna is never 23. She is always nine years old now.

This year is an unusual one for us. I am writing this by myself at home. Sam and Grace have moved to Nashville. Timberley is in Poland this week working with the Ukrainian refugee situation. We talked this morning and talked a little about Anna’s birthday. But the birthday is not as it usually is. We have certain traditions for this day. Anna loved going to Olive Garden when we visited my mom and dad in California. So on her birthday, we usually go out to an Italian restaurant for dinner. But this year Timberley is eating Polish food. I am eating a leftover stir-fry from a few nights ago.

As the years go on, mourning continues to change. There was a time in past when Timberley might have scheduled her trip differently so she would be home for Anna’s birthday. I think that the fact that this opportunity could arise for Timberley to help in Poland, and that we could both make the decision for her to go, knowing that it is Anna’s birthday, but knowing that the trip is more important, is a sign that we are in a more normal place than we were in the past.

Time for a story. I may have shared this in the past, but it has come back again for me. Last July I went to a gathering of dobro players in Wilkesboro, NC. On the last evening of the gathering there is a sort of open-mic concert for the dobroists to play. I knew going in that I was going to play a certain song. I had been working on it for the year leading up to the gathering. The song was “In the Garden.” Why “In the Garden”? It was never my favorite hymn. In fact, at one time in my life, I would have been a little embarrassed to be playing “In the Garden. ” So what changed, that made me want to play this in public?

One day, not long before Anna’s accident and death, she was walking around the house singing “In the Garden.” I was working in my office and called out to her, asking her to stop singing that song.

“Why?” she asked, “I like that song.”

“Well, it’s not a very good hymn. I can’t go into details right now, but just pick something else. How about “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.”

“But I like “In the Garden,” she insisted.

“Anna, sing another song. Okay?”

She walked away singing “Come Thou Fount.” And I was happy.

Fast forward now to a time shortly after Anna’s death. We were cleaning out some things and found some of her journals. Anna was a gifted and funny writer. We were enjoying finding little stories she had been writing. I opened up one of her journals and read the entry on the first page.

She made a list titled, “Reasons I like Jesus better than my dad.” I don’t recall how many items were on the list. I only remember number one. “#1: Jesus doesn’t get mad when I sing In the Garden.”

Ouch. What an idiot I was. Why would I ask her to stop singing? Or to sing a different song?

But then a more important truth hit: of course Jesus was not mad when she sang In the Garden. Why get all wound up over a song that I thought was inappropriate? Yes, there is wisdom we need to exercise when we choose music for the church. But when a person is praising God and we judge the way they are doing it, are moving past what God’s concern might be? Might we get all wound up over something that God is actually pleased with?

So now when I find myself getting judgmental about something, I ask myself, “Is Jesus as mad about this as I am? Does Jesus want this person to stop singing this particular song? It has helped me relax a bit.

And it also helped me learn a nice song to play on my dobro.

Thanks for the lesson, Anna.

And Happy Birthday!

Dad