The Slithering Intruder

            “There’s a snake by you!” someone behind me shrieked. 

            I looked to see who she was talking to.  When I looked down, I realized it was me. A two foot long snake sliced the water beside me.  I jumped out of its way.

            The intruder headed to the side of the pool as he disrupted the water aerobics class. Alarm and dismay took over the class.

            Another lady and I slowly walked to the side. I grabbed a foam noodle from the deck and dipped it under the snake. Just as I had him to the edge, he slid back into the water and headed towards me. Again, I jumped away. Then I maneuvered him toward the side again.

            Like a cobra, his head reached upward as he struggled to escape. Just as we thought he would make it, he slipped downward. I kept trying to go under him to lift him with the noodle but couldn’t get a grip on the slippery fellow.

            At the same time, the teacher and another student each hurried to get a pool net. Both stood ready for action. The teacher reached down and snagged the intruder. With the net far out in front of her, she walked to the back of the pool area to release him over the fence. However, he wouldn’t come out of the net. She shook the critter but he wouldn’t budge.

            She left the net hanging over the fence and stated, “I have never seen such a large snake.”

            We laughed and told her that was a small one for Florida.

            “No one told me about that,” she said.

            We laughed and resumed class. Just another day in sunny Florida.

Good Bye, Dear Friend Rae Lee

            Starting tenth grade in a new school, in a new town, as the principal’s daughter filled me with anxiety. I left old friends behind and knew no one in the new location.

            Rae Lee changed that. After a phone call from Mrs. Bennett, a teacher at the high school, our phone rang.  Rae Lee introduced herself and offered to stop by. What a relief to have a new friend.

            Her kindness helped us connect. She included me with her friends and helped me settle in when school started. Her friends were numerous because she was a caring friend. Because of her, I no longer felt alone.

            We attended the same church, had most classes together, and formed a special bond.

            After graduation, we attended different colleges. More distance separated us when she moved further north and I migrated to Florida with my parents.

            On my return to Indiana for visits, we would meet with friends for lunch. She came to see me once in Florida. Occasionally, we phoned. I regret that we didn’t stay more connected over the years. However, when we were together, we easily renewed our friendship.

            She displayed her spirit and humor last year at our class reunion. She wheeled her walker to the hay wagon we were all going to ride in the annual James Dean Festival. The height of the wagon was daunting for many in the group. Some classmates helped boost those who needed assistance.

            It was obvious she would not be able to climb onto the wagon even if they  grasped her arms.  She laughed and said, “Push on my rear end.” She made it onto the bales and enjoyed the parade. Many people would have avoided the situation to escape embarrassment. Rae Lee joined in with enthusiasm.

            After the parade, we had time alone. Tired but happy, she sat on her walker seat. I sat by her as we talked. She comforted me about the recent loss of my parents and husband. I cherished the time we had together and the special friendship. I had no idea it would be our last conversation.

            Despite a difficult childhood and challenges as an adult, she preserved and overcame obstacles. She lived life with grace, humor and compassion. She was a gift to many. She is now celebrating with Jesus.

Happy Cows

      

Jeremiah 31: 13 …I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. NIV

           

            Herds of cattle milled around. Young calves joined mama cows. I fit in with my white shirt and hat sprinkled with spots.

            My marathon Chick Fil A day began with breakfast before volunteering at the library. As I munched on hash brown potatoes and a fluffy chicken biscuit, soft Christian music played. My mind sang with along with the peaceful instrumentals.

            For years, Alan and I dressed as cows for the annual customer appreciation day. Ashlyn and Emily joined us a couple of times. 

            With Alan gone and the girls in Colorado, I decided to venture out alone. We had never done breakfast so my outing began at a new time in a different location.

            I didn’t anticipate the sadness that squeezed me as I sat alone. Tears stung. Cows passed by me and I tried to smile. With memories bombarding me, I pushed down my meal. Inside I was weeping.

            My mood improved at the library as I stacked books and explained my unusual outfit. I encouraged patrons and volunteers to also get a free meal by dressing up as a cow.

            For lunch, I picked a bustling restaurant on my way home. Even at 1:30 pm, groups of cows huddled at the counter and filled the tables.           The festivities pushed away my grief for a while.

            I marveled at the creative costumes and what people would do for a free meal. I laughed at unsuspecting, shocked customers who stared at the craziness and wondered what was going on. All ages and sizes of cows roamed. Everyone smiled during the huge party.

            Dark clouds hovered as I got into my car to start home. With storms predicted, I decided to stop at the mall and avoid the torrents. Walking the mall in my cow uniform brought glances and stares. Adults looked away quickly. Children stared.

            Before leaving, I stopped at another Chick Fil A in the food court for take out. The lemonade tasted good on the ride home.

            A former neighbor texted to see if we could meet for dinner. A few years earlier, they had joined us for their first cow day with their young daughter. Their family had grown with the addition of a son. We all dressed up and had dinner near my home.

            While their children romped in the playground, we talked. Catching up and remembering Alan helped me avoid my earlier grief and enjoy the meal.

            Even though I missed Alan and my granddaughters, friends helped fill the gap. Strangers even helped fill my emptiness with their giggling and silliness. Memories comforted. Different situations formed new ones.

            As I put my ensemble away, I put mine on top of Alan’s. Each year he carefully stored our hats, spotted shirts, rope tails, and signs. No longer would he wear the amusing costume. But as I closed the drawer, a little more of the grief disappeared.

            Though my life changed radically when Alan died, it isn’t over. More adventures await.

Loving Father, thank you for helping me laugh and make new memories. Amen

           

           

           

A Journey of Pain

We are confident that God is able to orchestrate everything to work toward something good and beautiful when we love Him and accept His invitation to live according to His plan. Romans 8:28 The Voice

            My new exercise video came to life. After returning from a trip, I just wanted to sit and relax. Reluctantly, I tried to imitate the perky teacher’s movements.

            I crammed myself into the area between my couch and coffee table.  Then I pushed one chair back to do the slow, gentle movements. More energy poured into my tired body.

            The teacher kicked her leg to the side. Obediently, I followed her instructions. My leg moved up and out. Pain stopped my foot after it rammed the wooden table.

            Each wiggle of my toes brought stabbing pain. I tried to finish the exercise session but every move caused more throbbing.

            I hobbled to the couch. My painful toes reminded me of my pervious broken toes. I certainly didn’t want to be incapacitated. I tried working on the computer but couldn’t overcome the pain.

            Finally, I relented and propped my foot up.  Ice numbed the swelling toes. For several hours I watched television, crocheted a hat, read, and called friends.

            The following day pain lessened. Only one toe remained black and blue. Perhaps it was not broken but only jammed.

            Even though I didn’t desire pain, I did relax for the day like I wanted to because of my little accident.

            Alan and I did mission work around the world, but my new mission came to me at home. The uninvited pain of my grief opened opportunities I never imagined. During the last two years, my heart opened to others who grieve. Day after day people come into my life who are hurting.

            Most of them grieve the loss of a loved one. However, some grieve because of health issues, broken relationships, lack of purpose, loss of income … Because of my own pain, I feel theirs more deeply.

            I never asked for a grief ministry but that is the journey I have been given. God is using my losses for good to comfort others.

Father, I never wanted the pain I have experienced, but thank you for using it to help others. Amen