She walked in the door and ran over to me, her blond curls dancing along the way. Before her parents had barely said their “Hello, We made it!” she was on a mission to place an envelope in my hand. “Grandma, I made this for you! Open it, open it!” Her younger sister echoed the words, “Yes, Grandma, open it!”
My hands unfolded the delicate tissue, and I read the words that my little Granddaughter had so painstakingly traced, as she lifted my heart with her words of love: “Grandma, I know all about your sickness and I pray for you every night!” The hugs overwhelmed me, while her younger sister again echoed the words, “Yes, I pray for you too, Grandma!”
So the tissue-paper-letter sits on my table today, alongside a beautiful card of encouragement that arrived in the mail yesterday from a sweet Sister-in-Christ. Words swim in my heart from another new-found friend who lives hours away from here, yet tells me that his entire church has been praying for me.
Was it only last week that I felt all alone in this journey? Mere days ago that I whispered my failures to Jesus, my weakness to find His Joy?
He never abandons us, oh I know that truth, but my own heart seems so quick to abandon Him. I feel the sting of being cut-off from His people, and so I allow the cutting-off to extend to my own choosing as well. “Not now,” I hear myself say, “I have no strength left to talk myself into being cheerful.”
So, He brings the cheerful to me. He brings the Blessings to us, to His Body, when He hears the weakest among us whisper the faintest of cries.
Sometimes He brings it even when we think we cannot face the weight of one more day walking the path of Hard.