"I’m grateful for being here, for being able to think, for being able to see, for being able to taste, for appreciating love – for knowing that it exists in a world so rife with vulgarity, with brutality and violence, and yet love exists. I’m grateful to know that it exists."
-Maya Angelou
This is how I have felt for the past few weeks. In spite of the circumstances, and the helplessness I have felt at times, somehow, knowing the love from my wonderful family and incredible friends in a very real way.
Trials are about remembering what is important-getting perspective. Still, I would like to be able to bask a little, enjoy the end of one trial before another begins. In my life, they tend to be back to back -one of top of another-no real break
But the beauty is, I am noticing the whole of life as a gift-not just the series of troubles and questions with no answers, but as breathing and smiling and running when I can, and dancing-with or without the music playing.
Peace like a river — how refreshing that stream — that calms us, like a wondering dream.
This week I got one of those phone calls that every parent dreads. My son had been stabbed in New York City on New Year's Eve. The details are fuzzy-because my son was walking home and felt someone behind him and then the next thing he knew, he was in the hospital with multiple stab wounds. One of the hardest things about this East Coast/ West Coast life is that I always seem to be on the wrong coast at the wrong time. I had no resources to just jump on a plane and run to his rescue. I had to wait and trust and pray-something much easier in theory than in reality. My family and friends living on the East Coast stood at the ready to gather my son up and take him somewhere safe for healing. Daily phone calls helped because I could tell at the moment he answered the phone by the tone of his voice how he was doing. I still want to get back there and help and make him dinner and check the stitches to make sure they are not infected. But here I am, doing helping of a different kind.
And through this entire week, with the exception of a few anxious moments in the middle of the night, I had peace. Peace like a river. I had no idea how things would turn out, so I had to rest. And pray for wisdom. And then, strangers who let me know that my son was in their prayers asked me how they could help. It is so heart-warming to have family and friends who know my son reach out. But it was the kindness of strangers that made me so grateful for the goodness still very apparent in this world.
This morning, when I spoke to my son, he said he is hoping to go back to work next week. I am hopeful that the healing continues-body, mind, and spirit. I am still at the ready to do whatever it is that needs doing, but in this week, I learned that there are some circumstances where God can handle the big stuff on His own. My job is to take care of the tasks at hand and seek wisdom, and enjoy the peace that comes when you least expect it!
