~ Day 11 ~
No words needed.
Giving is the best communication.
Happy weekend, friends.
(If you are reading this in an email, please click over to the blog to watch the 3 minute video. Not a dry eye here.)
John 13:34
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.
~ Day 10 ~
I watched her as she shuffled around the kitchen.
She reminded me of my mom. I guessed she was probably about the same age.
The kids ran wild that evening.
Tunes from the guitars, keyboard, and drums rang a distant memory of the days my warrior wore his rock star hat. Voices belted out Three Doors Down, Sarah McLachlan, and Buffett. Food and joy overflowed. There is just something about music. Music speaks to hidden memories and connects us without words. Just the lyrics and the melodies blanketed the room.
I saw her eyes glisten as she smiled into the young exuberant crowd.
Her eyes met mine as I bounced my squirming two-year-old in my lap. Baby girl clamored for hands full of candy corn. I obliged. These nights don’t roll around too often.
She slid into the chair next to me. As her fingers stroked the strawberry blonde wisps on baby girl’s head, she told me her story. The music faded to a framing mural as she began,
I don’t have any family. I was the baby of my family. They are all gone now.
Her blue-green eyes sparkled with memories of decades gone by.
My birthday is next week. I’ll be 83.
Yes, just like my mom. I looked into her eyes and pretended for just a moment that I could have this conversation with my own mom. Memories intact.
I moved a few times and came here about 15 years ago.
I’ve been alone for a while.
I nodded, sliding closer. The crescendo of notes wrapped around us as a beautiful voice began,
in the arms of the angel…
Songs catapult us from memory to memory like rabbits scurrying down a hole… only to pop up somewhere else.
My baby found this to be the ideal moment to squirrel candy corn after candy corn. I was riveted. How did this dear soul come here? What story brought her to live with these new friends of ours?
She went on,
I fell one day. It was a Thursday. I lived alone, you know. No one found me… until Sunday.
The doctors told me if it had been any longer I wouldn’t have made it. I was dehydrated.
I stared into her alert eyes. Three or four days. She lay on the floor in her kitchen for days. Hour upon hour… alone. Afraid. I could only imagine what the scene must have looked like. I thought again… of my mom. Four days alone, desperate, and in pain.
She smiled gently,
When I woke up in the hospital there was a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a note.
In this note, they told me I was going to come live with them. I knew them through church, you know.
I still have that note.
That was six years ago.
That’s what it looks like. All the stuff Jesus says. Do good. Help others. Be kind. Give. Others before yourself.
This is what it looks like. It can have so many faces, and stories, and eyes, and hands… but, this, is what it all comes down to.
Our new friends didn’t tell us about her story. As far as we knew, she was a kindly grandmother who lived with them and their children. They never told us. She did.
This kind of giving captures me. I had to know. What brought them to this step? To this offer?
So, we asked.
Our friend, soft-spoken and humble, replied,
Yea, well, that’s what we are supposed to do.
That’s what we are supposed to do.
One step in love gave this one beautiful soul with the sparkling eyes… a home. No… it gave her more. The most.
A family.
Psalm 68:6
God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.
~ Day 9 ~
It’s been one of those days.
A day with patience in short supply and tempers flickering with every tiny twig thrown into the growing inferno.
The inferno inside a weary mom.
Fuming words have flown from this mama’s tongue today… followed sheepishly by,
I’m sorry. Again.
The days we can’t seem to control our tongues and our tempers. These days get to me the most. Haven’t I learned yet? Haven’t I gotten past all this? Shouldn’t I be better than this by now?
I’ve had years of practice in this patience place. But, some days, I end up right at the beginning.
Frustrations and expectations get in the way and blur the truth. We prepare for battle and get our weapons ready. Ready to fire those jagged words… aiming to cut to the source of all our anger.
Then, sometimes, we are knocked from our battle stance. Kids disarm us with kisses, hugs, and life-giving words.
Sometimes, we are ready to fire, and someone… a stranger… delivers an unexpected blow. Of kindness.
Thank you, Diana (you can find Diana’s blog here), for sharing your story… and your humility…
Three weeks after I bought it, my brand-new-to-me used car started shifting like I was doing a bad job driving a standard, when in fact I was driving an automatic. Since it was still under warranty, I took it back to the dealer/repair shop I had purchased it from to get it fixed. They tried a simple solution and that didn’t work, so I took it back for a second round of more intensive treatment.
It took a while for the part they needed to come in, but finally the day when my car was supposed to be ready drew near. My mother was going to be in the area of the dealership with my aunt and uncle the next day, and was willing to pick up the car for me. I called ahead to find out if it would be ready and if there would be a charge for the repairs so I could send money with her if needed.
“No, you haven’t had the car very long, so that’s something we’re going to have to take care of,” the mechanic told me. I was happy with that answer, so I thanked him and told him to expect my mother the next afternoon. However, the next evening I found out that the car wasn’t ready when my mom went to pick it up. Something more urgent had come up at the garage. I waited another day, and after I got home from work my mom told me that the mechanic had called and said the car was ready. However, the part had cost more than expected, so the mechanic said that the garage would only pay half the bill, as per my warranty, and I would have to pay the other half – $300. I was more than a little shocked and unhappy. One day I owed nothing, and the next, I owed $300.
Black thoughts filled my mind as I rode to the dealership with my mother the next day. I was ready to give the people at the dealership a piece of my mind and make sure they knew I would not recommend their business to anyone again.
I walked into the office, ready to do battle. It was empty, and my mother and I waited for a few minutes before I got up the courage to call “Hello!” into the empty space beyond the desk. Immediately the mechanic, a perpetually smiling man, emerged from the garage, apologizing for not hearing us come in. Before I could unload both barrels on him, he explained in a quiet voice that his boss had been gone that week and they had been short-staffed. He apologized for the miscommunication about the fees. He said he had to do what his boss told him, but he wanted to help me out personally in whatever way he could. I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I continued listening as he explained the work that had been done on my car and a couple of discounts they had given me. When he was finished, he again said, “I feel bad about this, so I want to help you out personally however I can.” With that, he pulled a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet and laid it on my car bill.
“Oh. You don’t have to do that,” I said, amazed at his gesture. But he again reiterated that he wanted to help, so with tears in my eyes I thanked him and paid the remainder of the bill. Here I had been ready to slaughter the man for going back on his word, and he had simply made a mistake during a stressful work week. His willingness to make it right, even though it cost him personally, restored my faith in humankind. The $250 dollars I had to pay was no longer a burden; it was a blessing and a lesson for me that I will never forget.
I cried the whole way home, rebuked for my evil thoughts and profoundly grateful for the kindness of a mechanic and the loving provision of my Heavenly Father.
Weapons down.
Thankfulness. It trumps anger… every time.
Colossians 3:12-13
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
~ Day 8 ~
Remember the first date?
Ours was on a Harley to a crab shack situated next to a glistening river. It was a beautiful day in May.
It was the kind of date I knew would settle into my memory forever.
A few weeks later, we were engaged. A few more months and one deployment went by, and we were married. Still another few months, another deployment, and we celebrated with an official wedding.
I roll those memories around in my mind on the days that my elbows are lost in dishes, laundry, dirty diapers, and school work.
I smile at this lively six pack of ours and remember the travels we enjoyed… way back then.
These days of babies… growing to big kids… growing to pre-teens are a wild and blurry race. These days are the ones that really grow us. These days are the ones when love learns the grit of perseverance. When love learns the true meaning of patience. When love shows what it’s really made of. When God shows us… what we are really made of.
And, sometimes, we are given rest.
The rare and sacred time away to remember what that first date was really all about.
And, sometimes, someone older and wiser… someone who has been there, lived it, and loved it… appears. Someone who sees the strain, the drain, and the need for release. This someone comes along, passes the baton of hope and encouragement, shares the joy of the moment ~ for just a moment, and let’s you know you are right where you supposed to be.
This story from my friend Laura is about the parents… the couples… who have been through it. They remember these days, wish us well, offer a gift, and push us to keep going…
We were at Bunhuggers (a burger restaurant in Flagstaff) and began talking with another couple behind us in line. They were a bit older than us, but were coincidentally on their once a year weekend getaway, just like us. We talked about our kids and our love for the busy stage of life that we are in. After orders were placed we each sat down at different tables. At Bunhuggers, you pay when the food is called out and picked up. We didn’t hear our number called, so my husband went up to ask about it. He was told that that nice couple we chatted with in line paid for our order. We went together to ask if there was some confusion. When they simultaneously began to smile, we realized that it was on purpose. We thanked them and were humbled by their kindness. They said that their kids were older and they knew how much they would have loved if someone had picked up their tab in our stage. They said, “just pay it forward sometime to someone who doesn’t look at all like they need it. Have a good night.” It was a heartwarming high note to end our trip on.
Remembering the days gone by with couples who have been there… gives us hope… and rest.
Just pay it forward to someone who doesn’t look at all like they need it… because we all need it.
1 Timothy 6:17-19
Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life.
(click here to see the series)
~ Day 7 ~
We don’t deserve it.
At least, most of the time, we feel like we don’t.
Everyone we see could use a little lift, and many of us could use a big one.
Writing about good deeds this month, I have seen so many stories about people lifting up people around them. Many times the people are strangers. The stories are touching and remind us that, despite the bad news we too often hear, many people out there are kind. Many people out there notice others. Many people take a step and show gratitude.
The stories inspire me to notice more… to say “thank you” more.
This story from my friend Renee shows us that we may not think we deserve praise or thanks, but others may see that differently…
My daughter and two fellow cadets were in the Atlanta airport returning home from field training this summer. They were all dressed in their ABU’s and were grabbing something to eat at T.G.I. Fridays. A couple went up to the cadets and said “thank you” for their service and paid for their meal. The cadets explained to them that they were just cadets in ROTC in college. The couple said it didn’t matter to them because they are still serving our country. They thanked them again and paid for their meal. So cool and very touching.
The best part of this story is that these kind strangers cheered on someone’s children. One of the most important things we can do is cheer on the next generation. Our kids, and someone else’s kids.
Every young person needs that.
Psalm 78:4
We will not hide them from their descendants; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done.
Hi! My name is Karin Madden. Writer. Warrior wife. Mom of six pack. Homeschooler. German-blooded southerner. Welcome to the place where I explore what it means to grow stronger - spirit, soul, and body. I write to inspire and encourage - to remind you we are not alone. By being bold with grace and speaking truth in love, we can become who we are meant to be. I'm glad you are here.
