Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.
What do you call those bells that one hits to summon service?
I’ll tell you what you call the woman who buys one for her children on a whim at a garage sale.
It was a loving, generous, let’s indulge children who love to play pretend whim, but she’s still a moron.
Last week Paul and I were talking with a friend about parts of our story, in particular, some of the details of having a child with special needs. She asked a lot of questions and we told her much of the challenges, the medical emergencies and the crises. At the end I was in tears and we all sat quietly, absorbing it.
She looked at us, “That must have been hard.”
We both nodded.
“I would think on your marriage, especially.”
Again, we nodded.
For several moments no one said anything and then the conversation continued and we spoke of other things.
I was thinking about this tonight, how important it was to me, how meaningful, for her to acknowledge that. I am clear that having a child with special needs has been arduous for me and for Paul as individuals and obviously for us together, but to have someone say out loud that it was a hard hit on our marriage was profound.
In that moment and tonight, thinking about it again, I can see our marriage separate from us, as more than us. It is before me, an entity, composed of our love and commitment to each other, our years together, our hopes and dreams, of our losses and sorrows. I am looking at this thing, this creation, to borrow from Madeline L’Engle: this Two-Part Invention and it is so beautiful. It has weathered so much.
I want to celebrate it.
This is me lifting a glass to our union, to us.
Accepting a messenger of God is as good as being God’s messenger. Accepting someone’s help is as good as giving someone help. This is a large work I’ve called you into, but don’t be overwhelmed by it. It’s best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice.
You won’t lose out on a thing.
Matthew 10:41,42
Scripture taken from THE MESSAGE
……………….
I don’t always recognize God’s messengers, but there is one I can’t miss and serve often.
She prefers soy milk and takes is warm, first thing in the morning.
His head is pointy.
He doesn’t have a body, just two arms. One shoots right off the page so you only see the makings of the hand but the other is fully formed and he’s got six fingers.
He has amazing eyes, which is no surprise to me. They are a little wild, but just short of googly.
He’s smiling.
What I set on the counter at the convenience store this evening:
1. A largish bag of Voortman cookies and a small bag of Tropical Skittles for the children.
2. A bottle of red for the pantry.
3. A pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia lowfat frozen yogurt for me.
“I think I’ve got the basic food groups covered,” I said to the clerk.
“You definitely have a good start,” he agreed.
“Well, that or the makings of a Sad Oprah.”