Tiger lilies bloom. Isn’t it strange, how the world keeps on spinning, no matter what’s going on with us individually?
A SECOND COUSIN has turned up! The results of DNA tests matched us up several years ago, but the connection was a mystery until last week. A strange and satisfying feeling has come over me. Maybe for having solved the mystery. Maybe for this new, interesting person and conversation. Or maybe because of a teeny, tiny note given to me by my mother in 1979 that turned out to be the magic key. I’m sure Ma had no idea the information on it was so important. How much I would love to be able to tell her about it now! I’ve moved 6 times since she gave it to me. It was stuck in with a stack of papers. It’s incredible that bit of paper was not lost, that it did not slide down between things and end up in a dustbin.
I WAS A GREETER at the 8:30 AM service yesterday and several people from my Sunday School class asked where I’ve been lately. They see Wally each week, but not me. I explained how I’ve been dropping the dog at the kennel so I can travel to Columbus. The kennel has just a one-hour slot for drop-offs and pick-ups on Sunday, 10-11, the same hour as Sunday School. It’s a good class – lots of good discussion – and I’ve missed attending. But isn’t it nice to be missed and for people to inquire directly rather than worry they’ll somehow offend or overstep? Isn’t it nice to be cared about?
A DISTURBING NEIGHBORHOOD INCIDENT involving domestic violence puts a mother and child on the run, jumping fences, shouting for help on the sidewalk in front of our house on Saturday. We are not home. We are a few minutes’ away from arriving home after an early morning outing with the dog. But the Lord provides. A middle-aged woman stops to assist.
“What caught my eye,” she tells us later, “wasn’t the cry for help, but the sight of the child on the sidewalk wearing nothing but underpants.”
I smiled at a boy with glasses looking out from the backseat of her car.
“I suggested he wait in the car, seeing as he wasn’t wearing clothes,” she said.
The younger woman, presumably the boy’s mother, sat in the grass. Her ex-husband had been called to come get them. Apparently it was the young woman’s current boyfriend who stirred things up.
I offered water and invited everyone to sit on my screenporch. The barefoot and barely clad boy told Wally his feet hurt from running on the sidewalk. Wally gave him a pair of socks, plus a light green t-shirt that hung off his shoulders but was long enough to cover the underpants. About 10 minutes later, the ex-husband showed up and off they went.
I did and said what seemed right in the moment, but later replayed over and over in my mind the conversation on the screenporch, wondering what more I could’ve done. The answer, it hit me in church next morning, is “Nothing. It was enough. I was enough.” Maybe that last part is something I really needed to hear. The replaying stopped after that.
We are at the midpoint of our weekly visits to OSU/TheJames! I planned to read today. Instead I wrote this post, which probably should’ve been a “Snippets” post. It’s enough.
The world keeps spinning.