Wildflowers

I guess I will apologize up front if this post is going to seem a little “out there.”  For those of you who have been with me from the start or at least for a while, you already know that sometimes I see connections or have deep thoughts about my (our) place in the universe.  This is not new to my life since losing Morgan. I’ve always been this way for as long as I can remember.  What is new is that I see it and feel it A LOT MORE now.  For those of you who are new to reading this substack, I hope I don’t scare you away!

I had to do a few things in the morning before getting to the sand courts by 1030 to watch the playoff between LSU and TCU to determine who would be playing Abbie’s team GCU (Abbie being the beach partner Morgan had in their very successful 2015 season)

I was out the door just after 9 to take my dog for her walk, and she was only getting a half hour.  I took her to our nearby park, and we did our usual one lap there, but I knew there wasn’t time for our usual route after the one lap, so we strolled off in the opposite direction.

I had forgotten my sunglasses, but the sun was hazy and not bright.  After several minutes of walking, I noticed a couple different families had someone out on their front porch and each time we waved.  It was endearing to see the grandpa with the baby sitting together.   I happen to know that the baby actually lives with the grandma and grandpa along with two older siblings due to a mother who battles drugs and a deceased father.  When I neared another house, a man waved at me.  He had a dog on the porch with him, and it was obviously a well-behaved dog because it neither ran out at us nor barked at us.  My dog, as I’ve mentioned before, usually gets agitated, however she seemed unconcerned.  I was thrilled with how well this walk was going.

I got just a bit further and saw a couple electrical workers working with the poles and wires along the side of the road.  They seemed to be doing a very good job – competent at what they do.  At this point I began to take note of some new wildflowers I have not seen on any of my normal walks or hikes.  Very delicate pink flowers. They could be morning glories, but I thought those are usually climbers and these weren’t doing that or near anything like that.  This is where my weird, deep thoughts start to arise.  I’m feeling really good about the friendliness (love) around me and noticing the skill and aptitude of the workers, and then I think of these pretty little flowers that probably nobody notices or cares about.  But here they are, probably actually considered weeds, yet I personally think they’re wonderful and they are adding to my life at that moment.  So, I think that’s what God’s love is like, right?  He sees us as these beautiful little flowers that most other people hardly notice, or if they do notice us, may try to kill us (weed killer = society harming individual people).  I stop to take a quick picture of one of the individual flowers.

I turned around at this point and am strutting along when I hear a “HI!”

It was one of the electrical workers up in his bucket, stopping what he was doing for a split second to say, “Hi” to a woman walking her dog.  I was thrilled!  I felt like it was God underlining the thought I’d just had, and it felt really amazing.  Further away I turned around and took this picture.

I took one more picture of a group of these delicate pink flowers for your viewing pleasure. Those of you who know your Bible can probably predict what verse I’m digging out as well.

Matthew 6:26-33 The Message version

^25-26 “If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.

^27-29 “Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.

^30-33 “If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

I got home, shoved the dog in the house (haha) and got in the car to leave. A text notification sounded.  I grabbed the phone and there was no name attached but it was a 513 area code, which is Cincinnati.  I opened it anyway and it was from Abbie, thanking me for coming out to see her yesterday.  As I was typing out my reply, she attached a picture.  I was floored and immediately started crying. WOW!  As I typed out my reply, she also typed, “Love you so much.”

Abbie and I were never personally close. At that time, she was pretty shy and just very focused on her sport.  I’m sure she liked me fine, but she really only knew me as Mo’s mom.  For her to have typed that SEEMED perhaps out of place.  But to me it wasn’t, because I knew immediately in my soul that it was actually God using Abbie to tell me that message from Him.  It brings tears to my eyes just typing it again right now.

If you read through my blog posts, that is my theme.  God uses everything to reach us, but especially other people.  Other people show HIS LOVE to us.  When Morgan first passed, there was such a mixture of shock and sadness, but at the same time, I have never felt the love of God more strongly.  The people who were there then and are still here now, truly are the hands and feet of God.  We are all that to each other.  Believe it.  Feel it.  Are you open to letting God use you?  I offer up that prayer almost every morning, and I have for years.  “Just use me however you want to God.  Give me eyes to see and ears to hear.”

When I got to the courts, within minutes Abbie came over and gave me a giant hug and I told her how much what she did means to me.  I hoped that the spirit of Mo would pull their team to be conference champs.  Abbie and her partner were 1-1 and ready to start the third game of their match when the championship was called for TCU. (5 courts are all going at the same time and at each court the girls have to win 2 to win.  If it splits 1-1, they play a third game.  The first team to have 3 courts of the 5 win, wins the dual. This means on at least 3 of the courts TCU had won in only 2 games)

What a glorious day though, and I’m a little sunburnt.

As this is the longer weekend essay, I’ve struggled a bit about when or if I should say what I’m about to say next.  I think to the verse of “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” (Luke 6:31) and therefore, I have decided to say what I’m going to say, because if it was me, I would want to know how I appear to others.  Am I not who I think I am?  Isn’t that important to know?  Have you ever heard “perception is reality”?  You can see yourself as a super-Christian, but if others perceive you as a jerk, what good is being a super-Christian? You actually give Christians a bad reputation.

We would not have survived the first few days, let alone be in the state we are in now, which is actually pretty good, if it were not for my Rocks and other people who intermittently have shown and continue to show us God’s love. Rock Two is my cousin.  We got closer as adults around 2015 when we realized on facebook that we aligned politically.  Conversations about politics helped us resume a great relationship we had as cousins through high school.  The political conversations mostly stopped a few years ago as we realized our faith journeys are similar and strong as well.  When Mo was dying, but not yet dead, I had not called my cousin, however,  I called my sister L.  Sisters are sisters and that’s what sisters are for.  She did not answer because of the early time of day; it was way early on the west coast.  When she finally reached me Mo had passed, and L was relied on to take care of getting my son to us as soon as possible, and for that I have thanked and truly do thank her.  But for some reason I will never understand, although I have my own philosophy as to why, she was not able to step up and be who one would expect a sister to be in this type of circumstance (A Rock).  The pain I felt from her and another sister’s (K) actions on Christmas Day was the knife thrust into the vice-gripped heart I wrote about in my very first post.  In order to get through it, I had to block them from reaching me.  Blocked texts, emails, and phone.  Before I blocked them, I did receive a one-line apology from L that I felt was forced, and near my birthday in January, there was also a one-line attempt.

This is why I’m writing about it.  Some people seem to think that I should forgive and forget or something – they’re family.  I have forgiven them in the sense that “they know not what they do” and I do not let their past behavior have any effect on my daily life.  They may not be able to reach me digitally or by phone, but what about the regular US Post Office?  The problem is that their hearts have been hardened.  They did not, nor do they yet, feel any semblance of the pain and they cannot offer the love of God.  If they did or can, then their actions make no sense.

But if I was running around calling myself a good Christian and I’d done that to my sister, I’d want to know how she really felt.  If I hurt her in a way I have somehow not yet understood, I’d want to see if I could rectify it.  I’d make an attempt worthy of an Emmy award if that’s what it took.  I’d self-reflect and ask myself, “what have I been thinking?”  There is obviously none of that.  If there were, this would already be rectified.  Do you want to know how I know?  Because the brother nearer to my age was also an initial contributor to the incident on Christmas that caused the knife thrust.  But when he was told, he wrote an apology to the best of his ability, not something that appeared to check the box of apologizing.  He has offered his support numerous times. He loves me.  He was hurt that he’d unintentionally hurt me.

Now I hope you understand why I’m so thankful for family and friends.  I did not have it from the most expected sources.  Thank you again to those who filled and continue to fill that gap, Abbie included, by remembering Mo while you play the game she loved in front of me.  No amount of apology can do it at this point.  When you have to be called out publicly, you have sunk pretty low.  I do not want people like this in my life, family or not. I hope those who may read this and push for reconciliation will understand where I am coming from once and for all.  If any of this ever changes, I’ll be sure to let y’all know.