I love the changing of seasons … from spring to summer to fall. (we don’t have winter in Texas. well, maybe for a day or two).
When the season of life changes, I mourn the old for a bit … but truly embrace the next one and what it will hold. I really love life and even the twist and turns it provides. But lately, I have been asked to step into a season that messes with “life”. And I have realized that I am not really embracing it well. (And it seems like Allison is dragging her feet on her new season of life too).
Phone talks with my sister happen when kids are in school. Not on Friday afternoons. So, when I see her name pop up on my screen, I know it’s not good. And it wasn’t. Our dad had fallen on Thursday and by Friday things just didn’t seem right. We didn’t know much except that he is being airflighted to Harris Hospital because of a severe brain bleed. (I know there are fancy medical words. Conahan girls don’t use them). Within thirty minutes, kids are farmed out and I am heading home to throw a few things in a bag. After I throw the most recently laundered outfits in a bag … I look at my black dress and reach to take it. That is where my thoughts are going. Am I am going to need a black dress before I come back home? It’s strange how I feel calm, but am so scared. I hold it in my hands and think a million different thoughts. And then I put it back.
I know where my black dress will be when I need it. And I know where my daddy will be when Jesus needs him.
I can let go of some things when I know exactly what I need. I can let go of the black dress in my hand. I can let go of worry. I can let go of fixing things. I can let go of what causes me to doubt. I let go of all of that and because all I really need is Jesus and to trust Him … no matter what.
So, I left the dress … because I trust Jesus in whatever His answer is.
We are so very grateful (in fact, we are giddy, smiling and ready for the road ahead with JOY) for that His answer for my dad is more life on earth. And we are grateful that when His answer isn’t what we want … He will carry us through that too.
(While I trust Jesus with all things that a black dress represents … I don’t trust Robert in picking out any clothes any day for me … I did leave my shoes and accessories hanging all together)
Chic-Fil-a: you feed our tummy and our soul
When I returned from my trip to see Daddy, Robert and I went to Chic-fil-a for lunch. I had sunglasses on due to the Hill Country allergies and the massive amount of crying I had been doing. I was not a pretty sight. After we ordered, I stepped over to the other line to hug and visit with a friend. She said to me, “I am so sorry to hear about your dad” and we stepped aside to discuss the details. Robert and I sat down, she left and lunch continued on. A kind man that has served at our Chic-Fil-A came to our table. We were expecting for him to ask to get us a refill or take our trash. But he didn’t. He looked at me and said, “I believe I heard you say you lost your father. I am so sorry.” I let him know I hadn’t, but we do have a tough road ahead of us. He sheepishly … or more likely humbly … handed us meal coupons and said, “this won’t lighten your load, but perhaps it will help.”
And we cried. Oh Chic-fil-A, we love you. What is it that makes someone step out of their role, take a risk to comfort someone they don’t know, to lend help with the basics, to simply love “one another”? It has just got to be Jesus.
I pray that I am as bold as this man was. That I would risk being misunderstood to simply check on a hurting person. I pray I will walk like Jesus.
Though she looks like Ramona Quimby most of the time, our Allison is an organized planner that always has vision. I found this list on her desk:
January To Do List
- Get closer to God
- Be nice to Roman
- Don’t turn into a teenager.
I adore so many things about this list. I love that she thought about such things. I respect that she realizes what is important … important enough to write it down. I am challenged to make my lists as simple as hers … not grocery or to do list … but eternal things. And I giggle and amen #3. Hold off that season as long as you can, Allison. Please. For my sanity. For all of our sanity.