Celebrating A Remarkable Life

Canada, Mexico and the United States hosted this year’s FIFA World Cup. Those same three nations hosted a most remarkable life over the course of ninety-five years. She was my wife’s mother and she died last month.

Norma Steven was born and raised in British Columbia. She served as a missionary with Wycliffe Bible Translators in Mexico City and spent the last six decades of her adult life in Southern California.

Her life, like the soccer tournament that highlighted our summer, brought the world together. With her husband Hugh, Norma opened their humble home to guests from nearly every continent. With a heart of hospitality, she loved to entertain.

In addition, Norma and Hugh traveled much of the world teaching workshops on writing. Her prolific husband was the author of thirty-five books. Norma published five including her memoir “For the Display of His Splendor.”

As was true on the World Cup pitch, there were yellow cards that interrupted Norma’s pursuit of her goals. Hepatitis. A mild stroke. A daughter’s near-fatal venture on life support. A grandson’s death. Memory loss. The loss of her mate to whom she’d been married for seventy-four years. 

In June Norma suffered a brain hemorrhage. That unexpected development alerted the family to the fact that the end was near. Three weeks of “stoppage time,” however, allowed us to celebrate Norma’s ninety-fifth birthday and say goodbye before the final whistle blew.

Since becoming engaged to Norma and Hugh’s firstborn forty-five years ago, I’ve had the opportunity to witness Norma’s remarkable life from the sidelines. She shared her creativity and wisdom with those around her in places of influence. I envied her ability to move down the field with grace and agility passing “the ball” (as it were) to others without concern for who got credit.

In addition to “passing the ball,” this Canadian-born lady passed on to me her love for tea. Since I had grown up in a family of coffee drinkers, I was not accustomed to the British custom of afternoon tea or after-dinner tea. But Mum Steven helped me see what I’d been missing.

Whenever we would visit my in-laws, the afternoon and evening ritual included a Brown Betty teapot enveloped in a fabric cozy and English bone China teacups from Norma’s collection. But the tea would not be poured until it had adequately steeped.  I learned that a good cup of Canadian tea requires steeping. The results were rewarding.

As I reflect on my mother-in-law’s life, one of the secrets to her mentoring influence was the time she took to steep in God’s Word. For the past thirty years, Norma would get up at 4:30am each morning and pour herself a cup of coffee (yes, she began the day with coffee not tea) and spend upwards of two hours with the Lord. Her Bible, a stack of devotional books, her journal and a lengthy prayer list guided her quiet time. And as with a pot of tea that has adequately steeped, when Norma poured out her life to others the results were rewarding and satisfying.

Curiously, my wife has a collection of her mom’s teacups that we continue to use. After all, after nearly five decades of marriage, I have become a tea enthusiast. Although our cupboard is stocked with individual bags of Earl Grey, English Breakfast and Constant Comment, our go-to after-dinner choice is Red Rose Canadian tea.

But it’s my mother-in-law’s sugar bowl that I keep as a memento of a woman I called Mum. It’s an Asian green sugar bowl I gave Norma early in our marriage. I suggested that she keep it as a little pot in which to keep prayer requests. My pastoral perspective added a caveat that the two handles of the sugar bowl represent God’s promises and God’s faithfulness. She liked that idea. So now, the sugar bowl sits on my shelf as a sweet reminder of one who regularly prayed for me and my family all the while rehearsing God’s promises and His faithfulness.

It is also a reminder that it is now up to my wife and me to continue the legacy Norma bequeathed us.