Skip to main content

Let Life Happen

"Are you waiting for someone else?" The hostess eyed me questioningly.

"Nope, just me." 

She raised an eyebrow. "Ok... well, do you mind sitting over here in the back?"  

"Sure, that's fine."

She hesitated at the table, looking guilty for leaving me alone. "Someone will get your order shortly. Want me to grab you something to drink?" I settled in with a Belgian beer and a book before diving into a plate of fish and chips.

One of the things I resolved to do this year was take myself out on dates. I'm not going to wait around for a guy to take me where I want to go. I can take myself just as easily. Instead of moping around the house in my pajamas and Netflix-binging while the kids were with their dad, I took myself out. I put on makeup, dressed cute, and fixed my hair. With nothing more than a general idea of where I was going, I ventured out to the town square and wandered into a charming pub, where I was now stuffing my face and people-watching (two of my favorite pastimes).

I finished my dinner and sauntered outside. The temperature had dropped a bit, and I was thankful that I'd worn a jacket as the breeze picked up. If it had been warmer, I would have been sorely tempted to take a nap on the courthouse lawn. It looked so beautiful surrounded by all of the lit trees. I stopped for a photo.

"Are you visiting?" a voice asked from behind me. I turned to see an elderly lady with a warm smile on her face.

"No, I've been here a while. I just love this square." We chatted a while about the history of the town square and she reminisced about the 50s. She asked me if I went to church and I told her about the small Bible church I had started attending. She shared about her Catholic faith and I ended up with multiple pamphlets and a rosary she insisted on giving me. I listened quietly, deciding a theological debate probably wasn't the best course of action that moment. There were others who weren't so respectful towards her sharing, and I felt bad.

One of the things she said that struck me was "We can't approach God directly. We need a mediator. That's what Mary is for." I chuckled to myself, wondering what the actual Mary would say about that.

"Who would be better to ask about Jesus than his own mother?" Hmm. Maybe Jesus Himself? I thought to myself. My initial reaction was to get out of the conversation and return to my lovely night of solitude, but I felt compelled to walk with her a little longer and listen politely. The night grew colder and we exchanged contact information. I wanted to share with her another time about my faith. I wanted to share how I had the freedom to approach God directly and how I had a secure salvation by grace, without the need for extra good deeds to secure my place in heaven. My place is secured by Christ's death on the cross. Anything "good" I do is out of love and gratitude. I have such an incredible freedom in Christ and I wanted her to know that she didn't need all of this extra stuff.

We hugged like old friends and parted ways. It was too cold to stay out any longer, so I went back to my car to return home. It wasn't the peaceful solitary night I had envisioned, but I knew that I was supposed to meet that woman. 

It's amazing to see what happens when you don't plan every minute. Sometimes, you need to just let life happen. That's when you become the most useful. That's when you become part of a greater plan.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

He Is Enough

Though barren wastelands I travel through, Though darkening hour should cover me, Though my strength is e'er weakening still, I know my God will hold me. No earthly possessions do I own, No place to settle, still. Though survival seems an e'er present theme, I know my God shall sustain me. I have been brought low, But my battered heart yet beats. My life seems shattered into pieces, But I know my God will heal me. He is enough to guide my paths. He is enough to light my way. He is enough to hold me up, And provide my every need. He is enough to be my only Home And make me flourish where I am. He is enough, He is my All-in-All. He is my Rock And guiding hand. He is enough. - Carey D.

Letter to My Daughter

My Darling Daughter, You're only three right now, so I know I have many years before we can have this conversation face-to-face. There are some things I want to tell you… some things I learned the hard way. Take your time.  I know you'll want to grow up as quickly as possible and move on to the next phase of life, but take it from me - enjoy where you are. Time goes by so quickly and you should never rush through life. You miss so much. Slow down, take a breath, and appreciate where you are this very moment. Good things will come to you in their own time. Know yourself.  While you're taking your time, get to know yourself. Know what you like and don't like. Find what you're passionate about and chase after that. Don't base your opinions on what someone else thinks - not even me. Your thoughts and opinions are your own. Keep it that way. Any person who tries to change you isn't worth your time. You should  never  have to change who you are for another person....

Stretched

On occasion, I have days when I feel like I just can't go anymore. I just want to crawl back into bed with a box of donuts and Netflix. I don't want anyone to need me. I'm done being Wonder Woman. Mommy needs a time out and a long nap... b ut there are long work days, kids to pick up from school, errands to run, little mouths clamoring  to be fed, baths to be given, homework to be done, lunches to pack, and laundry to fold. Then it starts all over again in the morning.  Throw in a nasty strep infection and you've got a complete trifecta of exhaustion. I think Bilbo Baggins described the feeling best: "I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread." As I tucked the kids into bed, croaking at the smaller ones to get back into bed for the fifth time, my six-year-old looked up at me with his large, blue eyes. "Mom, can I pray tonight?" "Sure, sweetie." "Dear God, please heal my mommy. Thank you for her h...