September 21, 2007
see you later, Cheryl...
I remember the first time I saw Cheryl... my little momma and I had just gotten out of the car and were walking across the parking lot to the double doors that led into the little church where I worshiped and fellowshipped... when a little car came whipping into the parking lot and this vibrant dark-haired girl stuck her head out the window and asked what time church started... "Eleven o’clock," I answered, "Why don’t you come on in and sit with us?" And she did. Thus began a treasured friendship...
She came... she stayed... she conquered hearts wherever she went. We all loved her. And she loved us... loved God... loved our pastor and his family. If the doors to the church were open, she was there. Her servant’s heart beat for us all, and we knew when we asked her to pray that she really would... and did. Yet that heart was frail... often threatening to fail her... she had more open-heart surgeries and procedures than anyone I ever knew, and she was just a young woman, certainly younger than me... sometimes spent weeks in the hospital... visited by one and all.
I remember one particular hospitalization when she was in a hospital near where I worked, and I could pop over to visit her after work... take her something from "outside" to eat... and we’d sit and talk and talk and talk... laughing.. whispering... sharing secrets... philosophizing... dreaming... and when visiting hours were over, the nurses just smiled and left us alone... some nights I was there til 10:30 or 11 at night because she didn’t want me to leave.
In spite of her fragility, she volunteered every year at Camp Victory... a children’s church camp we held down in south Georgia in the heat of July every summer... working right there in the kitchen from before sunup til near midnight every day for a week... on Mondays, excitement triumphed... on Tuesdays, feet began to ache... on Wednesdays, we’d sit together on the side of the tub with our feet soaking in cold water every chance we got... on Thursdays, sadness crept in as we realized the week was almost over... and on Fridays, we cried because it was over for this year and began planning for next year... Cheryl never let her heart hold her back...
She was my friend through trial and tragedy... encouraging me, loving me, caring for me and everyone around her...
Her devotion was especially strong for our preacher... her "man of God," she called him... and even when his life took a wrong turn and he began to abuse the position God put him, she didn’t waiver... if he put some of us away, she honored his commands, and at the risk of breaking her own heart, she put us away, too... hence, I lost touch with her for a while...but never stopped loving her, caring for her, praying for her... and I always believed she never stopped loving and praying for me, either...
Yesterday, I learned her frail heart had quit on her... and she went home to be with Jesus...
At the funeral home tonight, looking down on the shell she left behind, I mourned the lost time of these last three years... and wished I’d not stayed away... wished I’d been there for the subsequent hospitalizations... for the good times and bad... for the joys and tears... I learned from her husband and others that she’d never stopped grieving the loss of my physical presence in her life... and it saddens me anew that we allowed a man with feet of clay to keep us apart... for the God he claimed to serve would never have had it that way...
Alas... the last three years are gone... but the years before that are fresh and beautiful in my memory... and the timeless beauty of heaven waits before us... where we’ll walk streets of gold together... see you later, Cheryl... God bless...
Posted by Spiderlillies at 8:09 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
August 8, 2007
Once there was Dina...
There’s a girl I know named Donna... and I know her because of another girl who was one of my best friends ever in this world...
Eight years ago, my world crashed... my marriage fell apart... my then-husband felt compelled to run away from home in search of completion he didn’t find at home... and I thought I’d die... thought my heart would simply stop beating... my lungs would stop pumping air... and in the midst of the pain, God filled my heart with a peace that surpassed understanding... gave me strength to get through each day one minute at a time... then one hour at a time... then one day at a time...
God was (and is) always, always sublimely and supremely faithful to hold me up and love me... to fill my heart with love and prayers instead of anger or bitterness... and finally the wounds healed and I was able to let go of the past and grasp the future... and God prepared me for the man who is now my husband... whose life and love and faith I share... and I can say with all honesty that my cup runneth over... that I am indeed a woman blessed among women... that I am where I belong to be... and with whom I belong to be with...
I share that story with you to set the scene for this one...
One of the blessings He gave me during that dark time was Dina... a new friend whose heart beat for mine... who prayed for me... and talked to me... who listened to me and wept with me... and who, on my wedding anniversary that first year, left her three babies at home with their father in New Jersey to travel to the deep south to spend the weekend with me...
I met her at the airport... literally... we were internet friends... telephone friends... letter writing friends... till that point...
I had a bouquet of helium balloons with me so she’d recognize me... she knew I was blonde and I knew she was brunette... we hadn't even exchanged photos... and, oh, how we laughed with delight when we realized we were both wearing jeans, brown boots, and matching black tops... and the sisterly love that had begun in hours of online chat was cemented at first sight... as we walked through the airport on the way to my car, she took the greatest delight in handing out the balloons one at a time to children we passed along the way...
Our weekend was full and blessed... we had surprise gifts for one another... I’d gotten her an Atlanta Braves shirt... and she had me a New York Yankees shirt... we had plans to go to a tatoo shop the next morning and get me a little heart tattoo (Dina had a little rose)... but we went that night and did it... we had so much fun playing around and entertained everybody there... I wanted a teensy, teensy dime-sized heart and Dina exclaimed, “Omigoodness... you can’t get one that little... have you seen the size of your canvas lately?” I thought I’d choke, I laughed so hard... and I got one a little bigger... she paid for it... called it my un-anniversary gift...
We went home and watched her then-favorite television show... Cops... and I still never hear “Bad Boys, Bad Boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when we come for you?” without thinking of Dina...
We got up the next morning and surprised each other in the kitchen wearing matching clothes again... this time jeans and long-sleeved chocolate colored tops we’d both bought at Victoria’s Secret... we went to Underground Atlanta... Five Points... and Little Five Points... ate lunch at a sidewalk cafe... bought matching souvenirs... little elephants... then went out to supper at my favorite Cajun restaurant and sampled nearly everything on the menu... okay, maybe not everything, but we had four or five entrees filling our table and not nearly enough room for it all inside our tummies...
She went to church with me the next morning... didn’t bring a dress to wear because we knew we were both the same size, so she wore one of mine... and she being Catholic and me going to a little Missionary Baptist church, it was an adventure... she asked me what would happen and I tried to give her the run-down ahead of time... I sang in the choir and she kept waving at me and giggling because she knew that sedate me in the choir had a brand new tattoo... and I waved back... she put a note in the collection basket that said, “Dear Jesus, please take care of my friend because she loves you and she needs you.” (I know because the preacher showed it to me later.) She asked me if he would yell and I told her no, but I was so used to the pastor’s preaching that I didn’t even notice he did yell til I looked over to see her cringing... and she whispered, “You said he didn’t yell... he’s yelling!” I said, “No he’s not,” and she said, “Yes, he is!” and I suddenly realized, omigosh... he is!!!!” When we left, she had a hundred questions... what does he mean by saved... why were they dedicating the baby... and more... and I answered them all the best I could.
I made teddy bears for her babies for Christmas... and we shared more love and laughter, tears and smiles, secrets and stories... our friend Robbie, who Dina introduced me to because she said we were both spiritual and talked about God the same way... once sent us both big packages full of treats, including home-made brownies... and Dina called me to ask if I’d eaten mine yet and I told her I was about to, and she said, “Well, you eat yours and if you don’t die, I’ll eat mine”... and I ate mine, and she ate hers, and the brownies were, incidentally, delicious, and neither of us died... in fact, Robbie was one of the groomsmen at my wedding a couple of years ago...
Then... a couple of years later... in 2002... she was in a freak motorcycles accident in New York where there are no helmet laws... and my beloved Dina didn’t wake up...
Enter Donna... Dina’s heart friend... with children of her own... who went to the hospital practically every day after work to see Dina... to talk to her... to play Dina’s favorite music for her... to put lotion on her sweet skin... to exercise her arms and legs... and did this with love and devotion for years, till Dina was moved to an upstate facility too far away for Donna to go to as frequently, but she still went every chance she got. I’d write to Donna once in a blue moon to let her know that I still loved and remembered, and prayed and thought of Dina every day... to let her know Dina wasn’t and never will be forgotten...
And then I met the man who is now my husband... married... changed my name... moved... (had already changed my phone number, thanks to a stalker...) and didn’t get back in touch with Donna til a week or so ago... just a little card to let her know I was still praying for Dina... still loved her and thought of her... and that I was praying for her, Donna, too...
Last night I got home to a card from Donna... Dina died in March 2006... Donna had tried to reach me, but couldn’t find me...
And so I sat last night and wept for the beautiful... inside and out... friend who is no longer of this world... am weeping now... I trust and believe she is with Jesus now... and no longer locked in a prison of darkness and still and quiet as she was those last four years of her young life... and I am grateful beyond measure to have known her... to have crossed paths with her... to carry her memories in my heart and soul... grateful that she had a friend like Donna who was there for her...
Please, God, bless her children... let them always know how much You love them... how much their mother loved them... and how very, very special she was...
I loved her... I miss her...
Posted by Spiderlillies at 3:03 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
July 6, 2006
It was a long drive Tuesday...
... from Gulfport back to Atlanta... made longer by the tears that rained on the journey...
Miracle and I drove down to Gulfport on Saturday to be a part of MakeOver Mississippi... helping to rebuild twelve homes down on the Gulf Coast... helping twelve families to live in “real” homes again instead of camping in tents in the shells of their homes or in FEMA trailers in their back yards...
And it was amazing... over a hundred kids aged 12 to 24... plus adults... working as hard as, if not harder than, we’ve ever worked before... pulling ruined sheetrock from ceilings and walls... tearing out moldy and, amazing to me, still damp insulation from walls and ceilings and crawl spaces beneath houses... tearing out brick fireplaces... pulling up ruined tiles... building fences on one location... electrical work... plumbing.... you name it... it was there to do.
My baby brother, who is the youth minister and associate pastor at Bayou View Baptist Church, is the one who imagined, planned, put together and spearheaded the project... or should I say he is the vessel and tool God used to put the project together... and I am humbled and proud with a Godly pride of the job he’s doing... of the words God puts into his mouth to speak to those young people and adults every night.. I am proud, too, of our other brother, who came down to work, and of my husband, who led the work crew I was privileged to work on. This week was a dream come true for me on many levels... an opportunity to help restore lives after Katrina... an opportunity to be a tool in God's hand... an opportunity to serve on a mission trip under the headship of my precious little brother... an opportunity to serve on a mission trip with my also precious big brother... and an opportunity to serve on a mission trip alongside my wonderful husband.
My only sorrow was in having to leave on Tuesday afternoon... not being able to see the whole week through... because I had to be back at my desk on Wednesday... and so tears of sorrow still rain on me... even today... and I know it for what it is... a pity party... just feeling sorry for myself because I’m not still there... feeling sorry for myself because I’m missing out on the work... the camaraderie... the work... the fellowship... the work... the accomplishment... the work... and the spiritual blessings of evening worship services that simply blow me away...
I know they will do what needs to be done... and do it well... without me... and I’m glad of that even while I’m feeling sorry for myself...
Yet... even so... I am grateful to have been there for those few days... to have experienced the absolute joy of working for God... blessed to have put my sweat and, yes, my blood, into the project... amazed to have witnessed the commitment and unselfish giving of themselves that everyone put into their projects...
And I realize that I really have nothing to feel sorry for myself about... I was a part of it... God did use me... and who I should really feel sorry for are all those folks who wanted to go, but didn’t, because they thought something else was more important...
They missed out on the blessing of a lifetime...
Posted by Spiderlillies at 12:45 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack