A Letter from Grace

He stands at the corner of a side street near I-10 and the Heights exit in Houston most weekdays adorned with his cardboard sign which reads “Vietnam Vet” along with several medals hung from his neck from days gone by.  Beside him sits a rolled up blanket and a backpack.  Even on the cloudiest of days he wears dark sunglasses.  I often wonder if it is for the sake of convenience so as to avoid eye contact as he holds out his cup to receive a donation or if it is to cover the results of an eye injury.  Either way, it reminds me of the old adage, “the eyes are the windows to the soul” and the dark sunglasses make it very difficult to see to the windows which reveal his soul. 

It has been three years since I slowly approached the corner and rolled down my window to hand him a sealed envelope.  The contents of which included a personal letter and some money for bus fare.   I had just read the book Same Kind of Different as Me by Ron Hall.  I learned from Ron’s experience with a homeless man named Denver that homeless people don’t need money, they need friends. 

The letter was heartfelt and I explained that while I wasn’t sure what circumstances in life led him to be homeless and to be on this particular corner every morning, there is a God who loves him and that I hoped he would use the money in the envelope as a way to get to the local mission, Star of Hope, as a new start.  I knew he needed a friend, but to protect my safety, I signed the letter “Love, Grace” a pen name, which was my grandmother’s name. 

The next day and days following as I approached the corner, I hoped he would not be there.  I hoped he had made it to the mission.  To my disappointment, he was still there then and he is still there today – with his sign, medals, blanket, backpack, cup, and dark sunglasses. 

On this Thanksgiving Day, I count my blessings. Abundant blessings. And as I do, I am most thankful for a God who loves me AND who loves the homeless man on the corner at the Heights exit off I-10 in Houston, Texas.  He is a God of hope.  And He provides hope and a promise for those who believe in Him of an eternal life far better than any hunger, eye problem (whatever it may be), homelessness, and suffering endured here on earth.   

Give me courage and bravery, Lord, to share more of YOU with those who need HOPE for today and for tomorrow.  

 

 

The corner.  This picture was taken two days before Thanksgiving.  It was raining and 39 degrees.  He wasn't there -- and for that I am thankful.

A Mama's Soul Is In Her Hands

I was in the midst of a project at work and was dialing the phone when I looked down and saw them.  Right there in front of me on this crazy work day, there they were - my mother's hands.  It's amazing how you can be in the midst of something hectic when God nudges you to take a moment to spend a few minutes with Him in reflection of your life.

All my life, everyone in my family has told me that I have my mother's hands.  Of course, when I was a teenager, I would roll my eyes and smile as it didn't seem all that flattering.  Now, that I am older and I think more about her sweet hands and what they did for me, I feel honored.  Those hands reached out to me as I learned to walk, they spent countless nights rubbing my legs over hot towels as I struggled as a little child with growing pains, they dried many tears over life hurts and they patted my back, which was always the end result of a tight hug. 

I didn't always like or understand my mother's decisions.  Growing up she would always tell me, "You will understand when you have a child of your own and when you are the mother of a teenager.  Only then will you truly get it."

As a teenager and even after I was married, if I had been driving in the rain and forgot to call her, she would call me to ensure I made it safely to my destination.  In all honesty, most times it was absolutely and completely annoying because if she couldn't reach me (this was before cell phones), she would call every friend I had or every friend of a friend or their relative to FIND me to be sure I was safe from the rain.  Barry and I still laugh about it because she was relentless like a private detective!  She was persistent that way.  That's what a mother's love will do for you.

Things have changed since then.  Now, I would give anything for her to call me after I've been driving in the rain.  Oh, how I wish she was here to use those hands to dial my number.

Today, my Hannah got her driver's license and as she pulled away in her jeep, driving alone for the very first time, I could feel my heart leave my body and it was then that I knew what it felt like to have the need to try to find your baby after she's been driving in the rain to ensure she was safe - no matter how relentless. 

Mama, I truly get it....now.

"...So you see, my dearest Mama--

Yours are hands of love.

And I bet the Lord will notice

When he greets you from above."*

 

There's no doubt He noticed when he greeted you, Mama.  Thank you for your loving hands and how precious they still are to me.  I can still feel the love you extended from your soul with those sweet hands.

*Tommi Jo Casteel, Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul

 

"Big Red" - be good to my girl!!

Have A Little Faith

It has been a week today and I still cringe at the thought that the words actually came out of my mouth.  I know better.  It was a heartbroken moment and in haste through the tears, I spoke.  Before I thought about the words I was saying. 

I had just left the ICU where a sweet friend, Wendy, lay on life support due to an adverse reaction to some medication she was prescribed for a fairly minor illness.  Perfectly healthy…until now.  Weeks prior, we had talked about our lives raising teenage daughters and all that entails to include grades, boyfriends, their futures, their faith, and so much more. 

At the hospital, her husband, Tony, greeted me and took me back to see her.  We entered the room and he stood back at the sink area.  As I approached her, he said, “She has been the love of my life for 28 years.”  For fear my voice would crack, I shook my head with a knowing smile and acknowledgement.  Their son, Sam, a sixth grader, stood on one side of her bed and I stood on the other.  I rubbed her arm and I asked Sam to hold her hand while I held the other.  I led the prayer as we prayed for a miracle and pleaded with God to spare her life, as so many had prayed before and after that moment in time that week. 

I visited with her family in the ICU waiting room and when it was time to go, I hugged them all - first the oldest child, Hannah, and then the youngest child, Kayla.  Sam, the middle child, was last and by far the most profound of all. He hugged me tightly and I reciprocated.   It was like a death grip in the most literal form.  It was as if we were holding on to each other on a delicate balance so as not to fall off the edge of a cliff.  In my heart, it was his way of thanking me for praying for a miracle for his sweet mother, but it was something so many of us had done – not just me.  This hug from a sixth grade boy, who was clinging to everything he could to save the life of his mother changed my life forever and I can honestly say I will never be the same. 

I drove home in tears and that’s when the words that I said spewed forth.  Unfortunately, words that now make me cringe when I think of them.  I was the only one in the car and with tears streaming down my face, I asked “How could the God of Abraham who raised Lazarus from the dead allow a sweet mother of three children to be in this condition and possibly lose her life?”   

The truth is, Sam and I both were teetering on the edge of a cliff.  My cliff was a test of faith.  Sam’s cliff will now be adjusting to life without his mom because the next day, Wendy did lose her life here on earth, but oh, what she gained when she entered Heaven’s gates.  She lives on forever with Jesus in Glory.   

The service was beautiful and one I will never forget.  Tony’s eulogy beautifully described the virtuous woman Wendy was to all of us.  Our pastor could not have said it better when he addressed the three children and encouraged them to live in faith as their mother would want.  That was the legacy she left for them.  These words were meant to speak to them, but they so powerfully spoke to me – live in faith. 

This quote by Julian of Norwich hangs on my refrigerator and I might need to stop and read it as a reminder a little more often.  “See that I am God. See that I am in everything. See that I do everything. See that I have never stopped ordering my works, nor ever shall, eternally. See that I lead everything on to the conclusion I ordained for it before time began, by the same power, wisdom and love with which I made it. How can anything be amiss?” 

I am thankful we serve a God of grace and forgiveness and that even in my moment of weakness, He still loves me and He forgives me for my doubt.  

Have a little faith.