Linking up with Lisa-Jo and the great group that participates in Five Minute Friday. The main rule is to write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking – on the topic that Lisa-Jo posts about each week.
This week’s topic is: Broken
I’m so weary of this broken shell of a body I’m living in. I’m tired of having a couple of days where things plateau and I begin to at least hope things aren’t about to crash even further or that I might even regain a little ‘freedom’ on the very tight lease I’m having to live on, only to have some unexpected new twist in things, some new complication, or some new loss. I’m frustrated with the ways that it’s preventing me from living – or having much of a life at all – or feeling like I’m able to use the gifts God has given me for His glory.
In the midst of all of this, my dearest friend has been there over and over and over again. Tomorrow is her eldest daughter’s bridal shower – something I not only want to be at to celebrate with them, because I love all of her family and this new son-in-law-to-be, but something I want to be able to help at. And, though I knew I wouldn’t be able to go for long, it seemed like I might manage to be there for at least a bit; better than nothing! Then things came crashing down again this evening, I probably should have gone back to the hospital, but I’m so weary of that, too. But I know there’s no way I can be out and with them tomorrow, let alone helping in anyway.
And I’m broken-hearted over that – especially because it’s this friend and her daughter and in my ‘normal’ life I would do anything for her (or her family) just as she has done for me. But I can’t.
Easter was one of my favorite parts of my job, too. I loved praying, planning, scheming, and dreaming with my co-worker and then watching the weekend come together. I loved our crazy marathon Easter Saturdays, scarfing down subs between set-ups and run-throughs, before people started coming. I loved the ways we got to watch God work through – and, sometimes, in spite of – our plans. I loved the crazy early hours on Easter morning when we’d be two of the very first on campus, seeing our kiddos all gussied up, and working with new volunteers who sometimes ended up being great new full-time ministry partners.
And I’m broken-hearted not to be a part of that this year. I don’t even know what’s going on so I can’t even ‘vicariously’ pray over each of the services like I can do for Sunday mornings when I know exactly what’s going on and who is in each room each of the hours, etc. It’s a place that had so much of my heart and that was so very much of my world, but now, in many ways, it feels like I’m living on another planet. And that breaks my heart.
Timing wise, this weekend is the anniversary of a dear friend’s death. Before she died, one of the last things she asked was to be sure that there would always be fresh flowers at her grave before three certain days (her birthday, the anniversary of her Homegoing, and Mother’s Day) – the three days that if her girls were likely to go to the cemetery, it’d be those days. She wanted them to know their mom hadn’t been forgotten. And since I taught the eldest (but helped care for all of them) I knew that as soon as she died, the oldest two repeatedly said they were so afraid that no one would think they ever even had a mom. So as much as she was concerned about it for them, it became quickly apparent that even if their mom hadn’t asked it of me, that I needed to do it for their sake anyway. There are fresh flowers and an anonymous card with a memory of their mom there the day before those three dates every year.
And I’m broken-hearted because I’m not going to manage to pull that off now either. I take keeping my commitments seriously. Besides, I don’t want those four sweet girls to go there and think no one remembered their mom – or think that just because of Easter maybe someone didn’t think it wasn’t as important so it didn’t get done. Not a day goes by I don’t think of her, not a day goes by that I don’t find myself convicted by the grace and strength with which she lived – and feel like I could be handling this more graciously than I am…more like she did in the last many months of her life. One of the last things she did before dying was to pray – for me. But I’ll share about that in another post.
I guess all this brokenness makes me particularly glad that this is Easter weekend.
We know all the brokenness is but temporary for those who believe in Jesus Christ.