Sunday, June 2, 2013

Blessings

Today, I was reminded of how delightful children can be. I saw future.
I sat in the very back pew at church. I find I'm pulling farther and farther away and not sure why.  I don't think it's God I'm fleeing from. Perhaps the place no longer feels like home. I don't want to cling to the past but I don't know how to move into the future.
From the back row I watched a little boy, 2 years old I think, sit quietly, then clap some, then raise his arms, do a little jig and say alleluia.  He's always been too cute for words, but seeing him today as he's coming into his own personality, well it was kind of like seeing just what God must have intended when he put children on this earth.

Today was also a day to celebrate 4 high school graduates. I can't site the statistics, and the margin is narrowing, but the number of Hispanic high school drop outs is still high. The fact there are 4 graduates in our relatively small congregation tells me that their parents have done a wonderful job of instilling them the value of education and belief in something far greater than themselves.

As I drove down the street to see Mary, I noticed a little girl riding a bike. At first I thought her mom was just running beside her. Then I realized, Mom was holding on to the bike as the little girl pedaled for all she was worth. I slowed down to watch. Over and over again, they tried. There was a tumble, but the girl picked herself up and got back on the bike. Mom was looking tired! Something about the whole scene touched me in a sweet place.

In an effort to tell the "whole" story, I noticed how everything about Mary's nurse tonight, Priscilla, was the exact opposite of what I'd been bitching about yesterday. She knocked before she came in, asked if there was anything Mary needed, then stopped to listen - LISTEN - as Mary talked about her day.
"Yes, Mam,"she'd reply when Mary stopped for a breath.
"How old do you think I am," Mary asked, knowing no one is going to tell her she looks old as Methuselah.
"I'd guess about 70."
Well Mary's smile virtually stretched across her face.
"I'm 92," she crowed, and puffed out her skinny chest.
"For real?" Priscilla asked, first Mary, then me. "For real?"
"Why you're just beautiful."
I'm not sure when I started crying. Tears trickled down my cheeks at the beauty and sweetness of the conversation.
"Now don't you be afraid to call me, if you need anything," Priscilla told Mary as she walked out of the room. "That's what I'm here for."

Tonight I noticed how sometimes a simple conversation is all the "nursing" someone needs.

Do you see a connection in those snippets of my day?
I see the Divine. In the dancing child, in the proud faces of students and parents, in the hand on the bike, and the nurse's gentle countenance.

How did God touch your life today?
Merry ME


1 comment:

wholly jeanne said...

It's amazing what the simple act of witnessing a life can do, isn't it?

PS: I relate to moving further and further back and no longer feeling like home. I moved all the way out several years ago - all the way to the back, out the door, and into the woods. Want me to save you a seat on the bench?