Precious memories sealed forever

Last night while I was preaching a sermon at church about Eternal Security, I was talking about the sealing of the Holy Spirit and as often happens, my mind drifted back to my childhood days. I compared Jesus sealing us with His Holy Spirit with the way my mother used to seal canned vegetables. I recalled how we used to sit around and listen to the Kerr lids seal on those old Ball jars. I was amazed at how much detail just flooded through my mind about how my mom would can. If I sit here right now with my eyes closed and think real hard, I can almost smell the different scents and feel the steamy hot kitchen from my childhood home.

All of this made me realize how different things are nowadays. My kids don't know a thing about canning vegetables. Where we live the ground is not suitable for a garden so we just buy our vegetables. We rarely ever bought store canned vegetables when I was growing up. Seems we always had green beans, tomatoes, tomato juice, corn, and of course, pickles. It was always my job to help shuck corn, string green beans, shell peas, dig taters and stuff like that. Dad grew and picked the vegetables and Mom prepared them.

Some scenes that unfold in my mind are of a large pressure cooker shooting steam from the top. Watching the little round pressure regulator dance around on top of the pot and imitating the pshhh, pshhh, sound it would make. Dish towels spread out on the kitchen counter with Ball jars sitting on top of them. Listening to the "tink" sound that the Kerr lids would make when the jars would seal. Man, those were some good times back then but of course I didn't realize it at the time. What I would give to be able to go back in time to those precious days. Sitting barefooted around the kitchen table playing with plastic cowboys and indians, while my mother worked away canning as she listened to radio broadcasts on WKXV radio. Dad in a white t-shirt with red clay dirt stains mixed with sweat, chasing flies around the house with a fly swatter. Pam in the living room banging away on the piano keys. Jennifer with her thumb in her mouth, dragging her tattered blanket around, scratching the silky edges with her finger. I hope my kids have such fond memories.