I have a friend I've always thought most resembled the Blessed Mother in both looks and manner. She, of course, giggles and thinks that's preposterous to draw such a comparison ...and that, no doubt, reinforces the comparison. Like most faithful women I know, she's bears a heavy burden she never asked for, not of her own doing in any way ...and yet, if you know her, you grow to cherish the joy radiating from her very being ....always. Another faith filled woman shared with me recently that 'happiness comes from circumstance, while joy comes from God.' That makes sense to me. Joy is my friends hallmark quality ...constant. My friend could complain a lot ....all day ...every day ...and few would fault her, most would understand ...even expect it. But this incredible woman does not complain usually ...and when she does it is of her own imperfection ...her own reluctance to trust God in all areas at all times. She does not whine or question her circumstance. She is, quite simply, an incredible witness of grace ...and faith. She is pure courage in the face of adversity ...the face of broken dreams and broken promises. I can not imagine anything less than God's pure delight in her way ....her life, her witness.
She loved Phoebe ...every inch and ounce ....every smile and frown ...she simply loved my daughter who gave me the run of my life. Often times she would run along beside me, panting, telling me I would catch my breath one day, but for now ...just keep going and chasing ...and we would laugh and laugh at how great this girl, my Phoebe, was and how she drained every bit of life out of every bit of living. And now my friend tends to me like a bird with a broken wing, soothing and encouraging, telling me how high I will fly again. We've walked some difficult miles together, learned to love God together ...and in ways she scoffs at, she has been a lifeline ...a promise to me. No weight she bears, clouds her gaze of God's beauty and gifts.
Because of all this, and far, far more ...she reminds me of the Blessed Mother.
A few nights ago I had a dream about her ... I had been searching for her, needing to ask something. Finding her, she was standing, knitting needles in hand. I couldn't see them at first, all I could see was this beautiful garment of some sort draping from her hands. It was all shades of beige and gold. "What are you making, this is gorgeous?" I said. "Oh, this ...I just figured it would be good for anything really ...I could wear it to work, to a football game ..anywhere. It's long enough to keep me warm." I was staring at it as she spoke and realized it was made of translucent gold, capturing the light, but in a very subtle way. I was fixated on it as it literally took away my breath. Her hands continued to work fast and I could see tiny knitting needles that darted about as she spoke to me, humored by my compliments. "Oh, come on, its so simple." "Will you teach me ...?" I asked. "Of course, but I really don't even need to you can do this without my help." I laughed "No, I have no idea where to even begin." She told me she would, and I was so pleased, but she thought it ridiculous.
This woman has no idea the beautiful life she has 'knit', teaching us how to make a pleasing robe,fitting to wear before God ...That's what I saw in this dream ...that she is in my life to teach me this craft, this craft of knitting a life for God.
I told her of that dream and we both cried ...her refusing to see herself as she was in that dream. I am so blessed with knowing her for that ...and blessed for knowing how she loves Phoebe ...making her feel special whenever she saw her ...as she does for each of my children.
That dream makes me wonder what kind of life I am knitting for God. How much do I complain and rage at what He has offered me ...I think I am knitting a poncho of an ugly color filled with burrs ...you know those nasty things of nature you can't get off your clothes? Do I have the courage to lay down the needles and yarn I've been using, and pick up the ones that will knit for me a translucent stole of gold? Do I have the courage to stop counting my loss and begin counting the miraculous blessings that begin with each and every breath of living? Do I have the courage to be a daughter of God by silencing my tongue and following His way ...even when it is the way of the Cross? Like my friend?
Do I have the courage to smile and open my heart to the cleansing balm of loss ....so that I might gain, not just for me ...but for everyone around me? I pray for that .... for that courage to truly be His daughter ...to truly live in His way ...and not the way of the world.
Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.
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