On Waiting.......

This morning, swinging on the Creek Road porch, looking at the tree my daddy planted over 50 years ago, my Chan asked me a question. 

"Nanny, have you heard about that tree that you can plant in the ground and the first year you plant it, it doesn't grow? And then the second year it doesn't grow either. Not the third year or the fourth or even the fifth. And then in the sixth year it starts growing and it grows and grows after that into a big beautiful tree. Have you heard about that?"

"No, I don't believe that I have, Chan. But it reminds me of something that happened here on this porch about nine years ago. It was April and I was sitting in the swing waiting to see a hummingbird. I had put my feeder out and hoped it wouldn't be long before they found it. I would sit and watch and I know this sounds silly, but I would ask God to please let this be the day I see one. You see my daddy, your great granddaddy, loved hummingbirds. He was in nursing home, had been sick a long time with a disease that makes him forget everything and I didn't know how to help him.  I don't know why I was so desperate to see the hummingbird, I guess it just would have reminded me of when he was himself and would sit for hours watching these fascinating little birds. I know that they brought him joy. 

Well I watched and watched and prayed and prayed and nothing. Most everyone else I knew who fed the hummers had already seen them at their feeders. I just couldn't understand it. Day by day went by with no sightings. Well about two months later, on June the 8th, your grandaddy went to live with Jesus. I was very sad, but relieved too that he was finally himself again, with no pain, and with a complete mind. The day after he left here, I was on my porch crying a little. You do that when someone you love a whole lot dies. I stared at the hummingbird feeder and was feeling kind of sad and mad at the same time. I hadn't asked God for much. Just to let me see one little hummingbird. I had been watching and asking for two months now. And not one came.

I didn't think I was really seeing it at first. It fluttered at the feeder for a few seconds and then flew right up to the screen where I was sitting and looked at me, it's emerald wings fluttering swiftly. My breath caught in my chest. It had a red throat and was the prettiest hummingbird I had ever seen. It stayed suspended in front of me for just a bit and then flew back to the feeder, drank for a few seconds, and then flew away. I think I was still holding my breath when I realized what had just taken place. God had sent me the hummingbird at just the right time to let me know that my daddy was ok."

I told Chan that I'll bet that most people would have gotten tired and given up while waiting for that tree. Maybe they would have been ok with it not growing in the second year, even the third. They would have said, "ok, I'm gonna give it another year." But then by the fourth and fifth years, they would give up. They would say, "this tree is never going to grow. It's been five years now! I'm just going to dig it up and forget it." But they never get the time to dig it up and they forget about watching for it to grow. And then... then in the sixth year, they look at that tree and it is bigger and fuller. They watch and see it grow and grow and they can't believe that it is finally happening. 

God didn't send the hummingbird when I asked Him to. 

I didn't understand.

I thought He didn't hear me.

I thought He didn't care. 

I was tired of waiting.

I almost gave up.

It was when I was at my saddest, with the most questions, when He finally sent it.

And I believed.

If He had sent it when I asked, I may not have believed it was Him. 

His timing is always perfect.

His ways are higher than ours.

He wants us to trust Him with all of our hearts.

 

It may not always look like we expect it to but....

Just wait.

The tree will grow.

The hummingbirds will come. 

He has made a promise.

In His timing.  

The One At The Waterfront

I hesitated telling this story. I am a firm believer that if you continuously shout what good you are doing in this life, that warm fuzzy feeling and the applause of others might be all you ever get.
However I also believe that stories need to be shared, because we are in fact, all in this together.

I have befriended a homeless man in my hometown. He lives on the benches at the waterfront. He tells me that he has somewhere to go when it is cold or raining, but I'm not sure. He is always alone.
I first saw him when my husband and I were having lunch on a beautiful Spring day at the waterfront. Bojangles chicken. And sweet tea. I noticed him lying there, a filled trash bag beside him with all that he owned in it....another one filled and used as his pillow.  Now, I love my fried chicken and I've been known to get doubles of that dirty rice, but as we ate, I felt my appetite kinda dwindling, highly unusual for me. When he sat up and begin looking over at us from a distance, I knew that I would be taking chicken and dirty rice home that day.
"I wonder if he is hungry."
My husband didn't say a word as I got up and started walking.
"You hungry?"
He said it fast, nodding his head. "Yeah. Yeah I am."
"What would you like?"
Again, fast. "Chicken. Bojangles chicken. And some french fries. And sweet tea. Large".
He smiled and I smiled.
"Be right back."

I've seen him a lot since that day, six months ago. He is always alone. He had a bicycle for a while, with a basket to carry his life. Sometimes when I stop, he has food already. There are others caring for him. On those occasions, I just hand him money for his next meal. He rarely says thank you, he just smiles. He's a fairly young man. Somewhat mentally challenged. Sometimes he knows exactly what he wants. "Big Mac, large fries and sweet tea." Fast. When he knows what he wants, he always says it fast. Other times, he thinks. For several minutes. He has never asked for a seafood dinner. He has never asked for money. It's always something simple. He knows our truck now. And Eli. He knows Eli.

I took the boys with me one day. I wanted them to meet him. He already had food that day so I introduced him to my grand boys and handed him a little money. He smiled. As we were leaving, my youngest turned around and suddenly asked, "Hey. Do you know Jesus?"
My friend smiled at Chandler and said, "Yes.   I've known Him all my life."

Sometimes when I ride by, and he is there, and I look over and he has food, I don't stop.
Sometimes I wonder what he does with the money.
Sometimes he isn't there.

Tonight we rode by the waterfront. He was there, on the bench. He raised up when he saw the truck, Eli in the back. I was in a bit of a hurry to get home, so I was kinda hoping he was eating. He wasn't. I didn't see his bicycle. Just the trash bags.

I went over, said hello and reached out the money to him. He didn't take it. He didn't say anything. He just looked at me. His eyes were sad and questioning.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes ma'm."

"What would you like?"

Fast. "Wendy's cheeseburger with ketchup, mustard and pickles. French fries. Large. And can I have a Frosty? Vanilla? A medium one?"

"Be right back."


I've never been hungry. He didn't take the money. Most would have taken the money.

Tonight I saw hungry.  And it broke my heart.

Dear Lord, he has known you all his life. Thank you for taking care of him. Open my eyes.
It could have been me. Me, on the outside. Help me to always remember that.

We are all in this.......together.

The Past Six Months Of My Life

It's January 1st, 2017.
In July 2016, I sold my childhood home to my daughter and her family. Three generations now in the home on Creek Road. I could try to tell you how much that home meant to me, how that porch was my haven, my safe place, how I always wanted to get back to it when I was gone for long, the memories of my childhood there, of raising my children there, the traditions we made, how I always said I wanted to die in that house........I could try to tell you but I could never make any of you understand.
We moved in with my mama, my husband and I did. We bought this little house on Maple Street about 15 years ago for my mama and daddy to live in. My daddy never really did enjoy living here, his mind was nearly gone to Alzheimer's. After Daddy died, Mama lived alone, bravely, for nearly eight years. She's at a point where she needs help now.
Selling the house to my daughter, moving in with my mama was absolutely the right decision. Knowing that my grandboys will be raised in the same house that I was raised in, the one I raised my children in, brings a peace and joy that I can't explain. They have already made it their own. Lots of renovations and additions...it is beautiful.

One night, probably in September, during the renovations, I went there all alone. The house was empty, no family, no furniture, original bare oak floors, no ceilings, just wooden beams from 50 years ago, no electricity, the only light was from the full moon that night, shining in every bare window....so quiet. I walked through every room. The tiny back bedroom I shared with my sister, the room where I played as a child and where I dreamed and planned as a teenager.  I stood in the hallway and remembered so vividly, hearing my daddy get up early in the mornings to go to work, the sound of him stirring his coffee, me sometimes meeting him in the kitchen to say goodbye to him. The living room, so bare, so quiet, so many memories. And the kitchen. The place where I discovered that I had a love for cooking, it was never a chore, I always loved it....it was my therapy.
And that porch. The swing was still there. I don't know how long I sat there, swinging, sobbing, asking Him for peace, knowing it was right, knowing I had to leave, trying to say goodbye.
I walked through the house one final time and I prayed in every room. I prayed that peace and joy and love and protection would fill this home for my daughter, my son-in-law, my grandboys.
I felt it as I walked out. That peace. That knowing. It was hard. But it was right.

When I go there now, it is different, yet the same. I don't cry anymore when I leave.

These past six months have been teaching me something. I have grieved. Not just for the house. For a lot of things. Things of life. Of changes. Of uncertainty. A sadness of knowing......
I have not been myself. I have felt a little lost. I have been in a place I have never been before... emotionally, physically, spiritually.......
But.
I am learning.
He is teaching.
Of that I am sure.
I am hopeful.

My phrase for 2017 is "Live What Matters".
The next chapter.
Intentional.
Fully engaged.
Let all that is within me.......