One Thousand Gifts - #8

I am growing weary of Facebook conversations with her.  Facebook gives her a place to hide, a way to ignore my questions, freedom to pick and choose her answers.  I am growing weary of confrontation, of pouring out my very soul into a person who does not seem to get it, or want it, or listen.  I am a minister, the ambassador of my Savior pleading her to reconcile with God.  Eight years of love, effort, patience, struggle, waiting, coaching, praying are seemingly disappearing into thin air in front of my eyes.  Eight years.

I am growing weary.  Taking a deep breath, followed by sips of caramel macchiato hugging my insides warmly.  A brief look into the sky.  Another breath.  I walk away from the computer.  Defeated.

Fast forward to yesterday morning.  I slept in (as in not because I could).  Rushed morning.  Tired.  Almost wishing I did not have to go to church.  I walk in looking for a place my husband saved for us.  My eyes are searching up and down the rows for his bag... no - for her.  She missed last week.  And sadly she is not here today.  I can't find the bag and I stand by the wall, frustrated.  Defeated.

A tap on the shoulder.  Someone knows where my seat is.  I slip into my seat and exhale.  I am right behind the pole so the pastor can't see me.  Good.  I'm thinking, "Is anything I've done in the past eight years at all significant?"

Another tap on the same shoulder.  I turn around.  I see... her mother.  She is here in church after making more mistakes she can count, after losing her children and struggling through her addiction, after getting offended, and accepted, and offended again, after losing everything she held dear, after breaking so many promises... but here she stands... again.  Today is her second time after a long time away.

I give her a hug.  My mind travels to a cold fall afternoon in 2002 when I threatened and blackmailed and pleaded and begged her to come to church to see her daughter perform in our Christmas play.  And seeing her standing behind me signing praise to our King - suddenly - warms me up in ways my caramel macchiato can't... and makes me feel so... victorious!

#8 - I am grateful for God's visual reminders when I need them the most.

#2-7 here

#1 here