I've had this blog on my mind all week, but I've avoided writing it because I can't get it all nice and neat in my head. The truth is most of my writing happens in my head first as I'm going about my day so that when I sit down it doesn't take too long for me to type it. Aging, physical suffering and loss are not nice and neat topics or thoughts to think about.
Since Gramma died I have more aware and willing to reach out to others who are suffering or sad even if they are not in my immediate circle of friends. I'm not sure why except that people who are suffering need to be seen and heard and felt. The Bible likens the church to a human body where every part of the body is important and every part is needed. I remember when Jeremy was having pain in his neck--one night he told me his baby toe was hurting. I looked at him like he was half crazy and made some comment about not having enough energy to worry about a baby toe. And then later his Mom told me that neck pain is referred to the baby toe. Oops. We are all connected and even if my reaching out doesn't seem relevant or seems risky, it is most likely worth it.
And so I made supper for a family who is going through a really hard time. Mom and I delivered it last weekend and it was hard. I cried. You know what happened? I feel more connected to the family and am reminded to pray much more frequently for them.
That same day, we watched the Super Bowl at my parents house. It was such a fun game to watch. I used an inordinate amount of emotional energy, though, because in the extended family a son gave up Super Bowl tickets to bring his father home from the nursing home to watch their beloved Eagles play. And they have watched many, many games over the years but this, of course, held special meaning. And the Eagles won. And they got to have those special memories together.
While my 90 year old Grandad watched the game with us in amazing health. And I called my Grandma to wish her a happy 91st birthday this week. And my parents are learning a new healthcare system. I look in the mirror and see more gray hairs. And sometimes all I see is a wall of coming grief and loss. I could cry just thinking about it too much.
So what do I do? I invite a recent widow not *that* much older than me over for coffee/tea and conversation. I would take another meal--maybe I will. I won't give a flippant comment on a heartfelt facebook post. I'll send a private message or more.
It's uncomfortable! It's a little scary! I don't even think I'm that good at it. Most of the time I feel like a little kid trying to enter a grown up world. Awkward moments in conversation....Writing disjointed, rambling blog posts!
Thank goodness Ann Voskamp keeps preaching to me:
"The point is that your life is meant to be used up and every wrinkle
means you are wringing out the good of the wonder of this thing called
life."
"We are the generations that are done living
the comforts of this world and we’re ready to live uncomfortable because
we’re ready for the comfort of God."
"She didn’t wait for someone else to do something. She saw a need and said to God, “Here I am – Use me.”
"You are doing something great with your life – when you’re doing all the small things with His Great love. You are changing the world – when you are changing one person’s world."
"Our actual theology is best expressed in our actual hospitality."
"Hospitality is Life with no Gates."
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