She came after church, hugged me and spoke encouraging words. She had no idea how desperately I needed to hear the very words she said. It made me cry, but it put a song in my heart that lasted through lunch and cleanup and filling bird feeders and now to my chair.
Through this week, as we’ve dealt with weather, Nettie’s medical procedures, stomach viruses, concern over Cecilia’s ongoing health issues, another fall of Sweet Mama’s, relationship issues, and disappointment over the choices of people we love, I’ve needed (many times over) to sing this song from our renewal meetings:
“If He hung the moon,
I KNOW He will help (me).
And if He holds the sparrow in flight,
He’ll hold (me), too.
Consider the lilies of the field —
How much more He loves (me).
In the beginning of time, (I) was on His mind —
When He hung the moon.
This afternoon, the ice is hanging from the leaves of the Magnolia tree, and trailing from the bird feeders, encasing the branches with a brittle sheen and making it very unattractive to do anything but stay inside. But I sit here in my chair beside the fire, and there are so many blessings to count.
*Three little people in my Sunday School Class who make me laugh, inspire me to prepare, and cause my heart to swell with love whenever I think about them.
*That good, good husband of mine who has looked after the affairs of not only our own house and land, but that of others as well this past week. This morning he gave me a compliment on an outfit that I’ve been insecure about ever since my Sweet Mama told me that it didn’t “do much for you.” He also called someone to fill in for him at church duties so he could stay home with the sick and afflicted and I would have a chance to get out and to teach my littles and be with our church family. How very much I needed that!
*This afternoon, for the first time since MONDAY, Cecilia picked up her own spoon, fed herself, cleaned up her plate and drank her sweet tea by herself and kept everything down. This is a blessing of monumental proportions.
*Because Certain Man stayed home this morning, his friend Gary rode to church with me. The roads were precarious driving home. I was slow. Gary spoke not a single murmuring word. He acted glad that I was going slow. All the way home, I wondered how in the world Gary was going to motor up the walk to his house with the slippery conditions, his cane and his Bible, and I was trying to think how I could assist our tall friend into the safety of his front door. I dreaded the cold and ice and being responsible for his safety, because if the truth be told, this old gal is a vain thing for her own safety under such conditions. We pulled up to his back walk and I looked at the expanse betwixt the van and the door and my heart sank.
“Gary, how are you going to get in there?” I asked with great reservation.
“Oh, I’ll be alright. Just let me off here, and then you can go on out there and turn around and go.”
“I know, but Gary, it’s slippery. I don’t think you should walk that alone!”
He opened the door and started to unfold his lanky self. “I’ll be okay,” he reiterated. “If I can just get myself out of here–” He struggled with getting his feet over the edge of the door because the knee he had replaced just doesn’t work right. “I’ll be careful!”
He got himself out and collected his Bible, and planted his feet firmly in the snow, supporting himself with the dependable cane. I held my breath as he took one baby step after another. I could just see him crashing down in the wet, cold snow. How would I explain to Elaine? He inched his way along and finally made it to the front door. Relief swept over me as I saw him grasp the handrail on the steps leading into the house. He struggled a bit with the knob, but then it opened. Whew! He made it! This also made my heart sing!
So there are ample reasons on this wet, cold, dark evening to offer grateful praise.
So this, then, I will chose.
A grateful heart.
2 responses to “Going through life on a slippery path”
I’m enjoying your posts so much ever since you gifted me with Dorcas Smucker’s latest book. Feeling like we are old friends. Mary Horst
Thank you, Mary! I was so glad to be able to send you Dorcas’ book. She inspires me!