Wild Woman

Last week my friend Jonnie celebrated her 87th birthday.  Several of her friends and I honored her with a dinner at an area restaurant.  Jonnie is a wonderful woman.  I’ve known her less than a year but I’ve grown close to her quickly.  She is one of those people who I connected with almost immediately.  She is family to me.   I can talk to Jonnie about anything and I know she will listen, she won’t judge me for being human, and she really cares.   She is such a rare human and I thank God that he has allowed me to share her life.

I went to pick her up and drive her to the restaurant.  I brought the CR-V, a small 4-door sport utility vehicle.  When she came to the door she said, “Oh, you didn’t bring the BMW?”  My other car is a red BMW Z3 Roadster convertible.  I told her I thought it would be difficult for her to get in and out of since it is so low to the ground.  Jonnie has severe osteoporosis and bones damaged by chemotherapy several years ago and walks with a walker.  She said okay, but I could tell she was disappointed.   Over dinner I asked her if she was expecting to ride in the BMW and she said she was hoping.  I said that I suppose she wanted the top down, too.  She laughed and said she wanted to do everything that she could.  I told her I would start praying for a warm day and we could put a scarf around her head.  She smiled and I called her a wild woman.  I think the smile spread a little wider.

I spent a lot of time talking to people about how Jonnie has impacted their lives. But one thing I kept hearing that really impressed me was that Jonnie is a woman who is honest with love.  She is not afraid to admit how she has failed God and He has shown her where she was wrong.  She is eager to use herself as an example to keep someone else from making her mistakes.  I think that is something God wants us all to be willing to do.    We hear every day that we should not show vulnerability or weakness.   It is important for me to remember where that message is coming from and what is the truth.  The truth is that we ARE vulnerable and weak.   It is through our weakness that His power is perfected (2 Cor. 12:9).  I guess that it is only when we admit to our weakness that we step aside to allow Him to take the glory for what he rightly deserves.  Before that it seems to me we are pushing into center stage and demanding attention that we don’t deserve.  We are like that person on Star Search that bad mouths the judges in the hallway when they didn’t get a pass to Hollywood.  It is easy to see we have no talent, and we know we cannot sing, but we act like we are entitled/deserve to have everyone else pretend along with us.  But all these pretenders just delay the real Star from being elevated and prevent us all from hearing the real Star perform.   So, we are really hurting ourselves and don’t realize it.   I’m starting to get a clue, by the grace of God and good friends like Jonnie.

He Loves Me

Jesus loves me this I know.

For the Bible tells me so.

I remember KNOWING this when I was a small child.  I remember communing with Him on a deep spiritual level as only a child can with purity, sincerity, and incredible faith.  There was a day that I remember clearly not because it was strange to me, but because of the reaction it produced.  I was probably six years old and swinging with a friend.  I felt a sense of incredible peace.  She was complaining about it being overcast.  I confidently declared that if we sang Heavenly Sunlightthe sun would come out.  In typical six year old manner, she replied “nuh uh!”  I told her I’d prove it and proceeded to sing the first verse of the song.  As I had promised (my  faith fully intact) the clouds rolled out-of-the-way as I completed the verse.  I was unphased by the result because it was fully expected.  My friend was not so unphased.  Her mouth flew open and she jumped from the swing and ran.  I can only guess that her parents comforted her with words of coincidence.

Various abuses and rejections worked with my own personal chemistry to produce an incredible self-hatred that I lived in for years.  I loved God, but was never convinced that He loved me.  You cannot trust someone who you do not believe loves you.

When I had reached the lowest point, I had lost husband, job, friends, family hundreds of miles away, and no church family –  it was then that God moved.  I did nothing.  I didn’t spend time fasting, or reading the Bible, or praying.  God visited my heart and spoke to me.  “The time for sorrow is over.”  It was revelation knowledge to my heart.  I know, with no doubt, God loves for me.  I have not been the same.  I trust Him.  When things look bad, I trust Him, because I know whatever it is, He loves me and means it for good.   I cannot give advice because I didn’t do anything.  I can only say I know He loves me.

Relax

 Since I got back from Europe I have been busy.  So busy I cannot seem to catch up.  It feels like everything is conspiring to keep me from gaining any ground.  My house needs to be cleaned, my cats feel neglected (as you can see from the photo).  I try to complete one task and if I happen to walk through a room I am shouted at by the many other undone tasks that need to be done in that room. 

Yesterday I was working in my home office when I noticed the relaxing sound of a fountain.  I have always loved fountains and the way they can immediately relax you and take your cares away.  Then I realized that I didn’t have a fountain.  I rushed down the hallway and found both cats fascinated outside the bathroom as they watched the tank on the toilet spewing water over and filling up the floor in the bathroom and spilling out into the hallway.  Excitement.  My cats love water.  When they are bored, they look for water bottles that I have unintentionally left the top off so they can knock it over and watch the water pour out (and then watch me rush around and sop up).  It must be very entertaining…and a rather powerful feeling.    It never ceases to cause action.  The most interesting time was when I had put red juice in the bottle and left it on the night stand and they knocked it onto my white carpet at 12 am.  That was really interesting and caused a flurry of activity at midnight.

Back to the bathroom — when I rushed in they looked up at me and I asked, “You couldn’t tell me?”  They looked back at the water while I waded in and turned off the water at the source.  So this is another thing to add to my list of thing to be done.  I am leaving tomorrow for a Women’s Retreat.  I should be thinking of it as a … well retreat.  Right now I am thinking it is three days when I cannot get anything done and next week I have Jury duty so that is at least one day with no productivity.  The following week I am in NY manning a table at a conference and presenting at an awards ceremony (three days down).

Tonight I was returning home from an errand and I realized that it was 9pm and I was very hungry.  I had not eaten since 11:30 am.  I pulled into a McDonald’s.  I have not been to a McDonalds in years.  I don’t go to McDonalds, but tonight I did not care because it was well lit and populated by what looked to be families.  I made my purchase and sat down near the TV to listen to Jon Gosselin explain to Larry King that TLC and Kate are exploiting his children (now that he is not benefiting from the income).

It suddenly struck me that the McDonald’s was pretty busy for 9-9:30 on a Thursday.  From my perch (tall table and chair) I overlooked three large round tables that seated up to 7 or 8.  Each of these tables held what appeared to be traditional families of at least five.  If I focused in on one table at a time, I could image I was watching a Hispanic episode of Leave it to Beaver or Father Knows Best, except of course no one was wearing a suit and tie or a dress and pearls.  But the family dynamics were all the same.  The families were talking and laughing, communicating with one another.  And even though I could not understand what they were saying I could feel the communion, love, and respect that was taking place between them.  At none of the tables was there a harshness between father and son, or mother and daughter, or husband and wife.  They all seemed delighted to be able to sit down together and share a meal.  They talked and laughed together.    I assumed they were telling each other about their days   

I thought about what a long day it was for these families to have to wait until 9 or 9:30 to sit down together and eat a meal and then I thought about how wonderful it was that they did that.  It was obvious that this was an event for them.  They were all freshly bathed, cleanly dressed, and happy to be spending a little time with one another.  What a blessing.  My family and I ate dinner together every night, but the TV was on and I do not remember us talking to one another.  The only conversation I remember was Dad complaining that there was no salt in the salt shaker (that seemed to be a nightly occurence — I was well into college before I realized this was probably a passive aggressive act on my Mother’s part).  I do not remember feeling loved and respected until I was much older. 

What a wonderful way to end a day.  Come together with those people who love you the most, tell of your frustrations, challenges, and victories, then talk over how to handle your tomorrow.  Then you CAN relax and enjoy your night and be prepared to face the new day. 

I miss that about being married.  I had that in my marriage and I really miss sharing that with someone and having someone share that with me daily.  I have wonderful friends who appreciate me and do care…but I don’t usually bother them about the mundane daily things and they all have family available to share their daily.  Well, that is one of the challenges of living single.  I need to take a clue from the felines in my life and see the toilet tank overflow as a fountain.  Maybe I’ll knock over a few water bottles tonight.