Friday, February 25, 2005

How I am seen?

It's interesting to me, how people seem to see me so differently than I see myself. The times when I don't feel like smiling, or even being nice, and hearing what joy I have shared with them. Maybe it's because I didn't speak???? Perhaps it is because the Easter season is coming up and I find myself thinking about what will I leave behind that will be carried on. I watch those around me age right before my eyes and realize how quickly time does travel. My Gram is fighting this nasty cough everyone has and I see how it is bringing her down physically. She's a fighter though. It has taken us two weeks to finally get her to the emergency room. It's a wonder we didn't have to physically carry her resisting body out. Actually, she was too weak. Isn't it sad how we fight off help from those who love us? Kinda like I do with God so often. How He let's me know His way is easier and best and guess what, I do it MY way! Whoever wrote that song, didn't have a clue about God and His way. Yet there I am, walking to the tune of it all too frequently.

I watched Grams hands yesterday as she sat in her chair. They are thin, but hardly frail. They are work worn yet tender and most of all, they are there to show me love and strength and guidance. How blessed I am to be a part of her life. I am blessed to be able to spend time with her and my mom. Listening to them as they remember, fuss at each other and to laugh with them. What medicine that is! How often do we enjoy deep belly laughter over fun things of life?

So anyway, I am thinking again, what will I leave those I touch in my life. Before and after I am gone. Will I be remembered as His servant, that He shines from my eyes? That God is my first love? How about my smile or frown?

When I think about people I know and have known, it comes to mind their facial expressions. Not how pretty they are, how their hair looks (okay, sometimes if it is really different), what they wear. It's about their eyes, the window to their soul. Is it filled with Him or with self? I imagine there are some who think I smile a lot, take life in stride and those who think the opposite. But more importantly, those who really know me, my family, what will they be left with. I frequently pray that it will be nothing.

Nothing about me because I pray that I will allow Christ to shine so brightly, I am blocked out. I pray that when I am seen, remembered, etc. It will be Christ they see, not me.

Friday, February 18, 2005

That he is 20 years old today

Unbelievable, what a blessing, what a wonderful, awesome man this child has become, that he is 20 years old today. I love his smile, his laughter, his gentleness with the "awesome 5 guys", his dog, how interesting he is. How I am able to love this person’s entire being. That he is 20 years old today. How blessed I have been to have him in my life, the honor of being his mom. That he is 20 years old today. All the memories that flash by when I look upon his face. The brief glimpse of that little boy that used to smile up at me, arms outstretched to hold him. The same grin is there that came as his dad’s key was heard in the lock. The blond curly hair and huge eyes, darker now yet still curly. That he is 20 years old today. All these thoughts flew through my mind watching him across the table today as we celebrated his day.

Lord, it tears my heart how quickly time has passed, is passing. The moments we shared to create treasured memories. The moments, hours, days that were lost in wasted time. How amazing it is to love someone so much that without hesitation, I would give my life for him. It is so unreal that 20 years have actually passed.

In just a moment - it really happens.

I pray that he will find what it is he wants in this life. I am so thankful that he has a relationship with you, to guide him, protect him, to share with. I pray that he will find the woman you have made for him, to share his life, to bring up a family, to serve you-together. I pray that he will always have a strong and close relationship with Nichalas. That their children too will know and be close in years to come. That Curt and I have started the beginning of all future generations to know you.

I thank you Father for blessing me so very much. For the gift of being Adam’s mom.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

The waiting room

Much of today was spent sitting in a large room, looking out a bank of floor to ceiling windows, waiting and watching. Looking out and thinking how beautiful the sunshine is on the snow, wishing that I could be out there. Thankful though that I have a place to go, to be monitored and able to live a full life. Waiting for my name to be called and listening to the ones that were. Patricia Williams, Patricia Pure, I told my mom it must be the Patricia hour. Having mine called and completely butchered. I understand that one though. It took my mom until my fifth year of marriage before she finally said it effortlessly. And she really is one smart cookie!

The watching part was the best. Upon entering the hospital, there sat an elderly man, one empty seat, and an elderly woman. Both were fast asleep. I wondered out loud to my mom how long had they been waiting! The two little ones there with their g'ma and mom. Playing with the waiting room toys and finally submitting to the pent up energy - running and chasing each other down the hall. Whispering rather loudly, "We're going to get in trouble". They never did.

Eyes really are the window to the soul, even across a large room. The fear, the unknown, the love, it's all there. Even under the strain of the unknown, persons are friendlier, more tolerant, display affection easier, open and interested in others. Not to be in their business, but to really know - how are you - to a complete stranger.

And in some, the hope. How often you are able to identify someone, who walks in Christ, sitting in a waiting room. The emotions are kept in control by His unexplainable peace.

I left there with news that I have to return in a month instead of three. I left there with something else though:

Why is it that the goodness of man usually is mostly seen when in a waiting room? Why not in the room of living life?