Today I was feeling a little "lumbie"
(that's a term Harrison coined as a toddler
begging his Papa for a coke).
It was a good afternoon to visit the lake with my folding chair, journal, camera, and questions.
My heaviness was for so many of my friends and relatives who are battling serious health issues and will never fully recover, as well as an awareness of my own aging body.
I was asking God the hard stuff -
What about our prayers for these?
What about those who faithfully serve you?
What about the one who has steadfastly believed
that he would be healed, but is now dying?
What about the tired caretakers?
What about me and my mortality?
The answer was right there in front of me:
For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror;
then we shall see face to face.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully,
even as I am fully known."
(1 Corinthians 13:12)
There are just things I will not understand this side of heaven, and then it won't matter
- so it must not matter now.
But I do know that God is still on His throne,
that He loves my friends,
and that He loves me.
And like the reflection of the gray leafless trees
on the still water,
I pray that I will be a reflection of Him,
no matter what season of life I am in.
It's amazing! From morning has broken to "lumbie". I went to the hospital this morning to deliver paintings to hang in patient rooms. I saw Kent Wright loading the empty, red velvet draped gurney into the elevator. As the doors closed, I asked Belinda if Stanley Clark had passed away. She didn't know who they had come for. But I saw on Facebook that Stanley had passed. A long time ago an old black convict told Joe that white people were really strange. That we get so excited at the birth of a baby and cry when a loved one passes on. He said it should be just the opposite. That we are born into troubles and woe and when we leave this life we go into the loving arms of Jesus. Even so, having said all of that, I still get excited when a baby is born and I still am sad when someone I love leaves to go and be with Jesus.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the post. I love you and miss you.
Nathalie