Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Eyes That See Me
I always wanted to know what kind of person brings veggies to a reception and hover over the veggie tray like it was gold. Last night my youngest son had a special awards ceremony in the organization that he is in. We all were asked to bring something so that combined we could have a great reception afterwards.
Unlike a lot of the mothers, I am off on Mondays and this afforded me the opportunity to really jazz my goodies offering for the table. As others arrive and began to place their offerings on the table I noticed that we had a buffet of chips and a lot of store bought cookies. Not that this was bad, I just wished that there was more of a variety since I was depending on this to be dinner for my family. Well my wish came true. In comes a mom who must have just gotten a new piece of updated summer selection Tupperware.
I watched as she and her daughter sashayed in. Daughter holding tooth picks and the mother this pristine piece of white plastic secured by a clear domed lid. It has been a long time since I've seen a person so proud of the fact that they brought an item and was very pleased with the container. Almost a love relationship gone crushing bad. Not only did this mom take a few minutes to choose the perfect place on the table to place her container, she commenced to open it up and put toothpicks into the cheese cubes. She turned to one of the other parents that had brought in her offering and said "this is going to be so good".
I really didn't know how to process what I was witnessing. Was I calling this woman a bonafide "Hover". Or was I witnessing a person who for the first time had brought an item that she thought was worthy to be offered based off of her cooking skill level. Maybe, just maybe, this woman had not been able to participate in the past and this was her first opportunity. It could be that her veggie dip was an extremely excellent recipe and she was really excited about others trying it.
I said all that to say this. I walked away feeling pretty a shamed of myself for prejudging this lady without knowing her story, background or anything substantial. I measured her selection to the time and effort I put into mine. I turned my nose up at something that had been offered to me free of charge and was truly a gift and from the heart. I didn't know this mom nor did I take the opportunity to get to know her. Yet I added to her story with my own prejudices and preconceptions. I wrote an ending to something that I had no business writing.
My facial expression toward her did not exhibit Christ nor did any of the ladies whom I stood with. I felt horrible. Are you guilty too? Let's face it we all do it and laugh about it. Tell me, how many times has someone sized you up before knowing anything about you? After I had checked myself, I made it priority after the ceremony to introduce myself to this mom and asked about her tray of veggies and dip.
She began her story by touching my arm and smiling. I looked into her beautiful gray eyes and I could tell she was a woman living and enjoying life to the fullest. I loved her story surrounding her recipe and container. I especially loved how her daughter would finish her sentences and the admiration they had for each other. Wow. What a great encounter I would have missed if I hadn't allowed the Holy Spirit to check me.
Well as the night went on her tray of veggies disappeared and the mom came and retrieved her container. As she left she made it a point to come over to me and gave me a gentle hug saying softly in my ear, "How are you daughter of God? God wants you to know He sees what you did tonight". Then she left with a smile and a wave. Totally at a lost for words and breath, I stood there. Yes, thankful for so many reasons but mostly because forgiveness came immediately.
So many times it's easy to conform to what others are thinking and doing. It's easy to get caught up on your own prejudices. Thank you Father for keeping a mirror before me. Especially when you allow me to see myself in the eyes of others.
Unlike a lot of the mothers, I am off on Mondays and this afforded me the opportunity to really jazz my goodies offering for the table. As others arrive and began to place their offerings on the table I noticed that we had a buffet of chips and a lot of store bought cookies. Not that this was bad, I just wished that there was more of a variety since I was depending on this to be dinner for my family. Well my wish came true. In comes a mom who must have just gotten a new piece of updated summer selection Tupperware.
I watched as she and her daughter sashayed in. Daughter holding tooth picks and the mother this pristine piece of white plastic secured by a clear domed lid. It has been a long time since I've seen a person so proud of the fact that they brought an item and was very pleased with the container. Almost a love relationship gone crushing bad. Not only did this mom take a few minutes to choose the perfect place on the table to place her container, she commenced to open it up and put toothpicks into the cheese cubes. She turned to one of the other parents that had brought in her offering and said "this is going to be so good".
I really didn't know how to process what I was witnessing. Was I calling this woman a bonafide "Hover". Or was I witnessing a person who for the first time had brought an item that she thought was worthy to be offered based off of her cooking skill level. Maybe, just maybe, this woman had not been able to participate in the past and this was her first opportunity. It could be that her veggie dip was an extremely excellent recipe and she was really excited about others trying it.
I said all that to say this. I walked away feeling pretty a shamed of myself for prejudging this lady without knowing her story, background or anything substantial. I measured her selection to the time and effort I put into mine. I turned my nose up at something that had been offered to me free of charge and was truly a gift and from the heart. I didn't know this mom nor did I take the opportunity to get to know her. Yet I added to her story with my own prejudices and preconceptions. I wrote an ending to something that I had no business writing.
My facial expression toward her did not exhibit Christ nor did any of the ladies whom I stood with. I felt horrible. Are you guilty too? Let's face it we all do it and laugh about it. Tell me, how many times has someone sized you up before knowing anything about you? After I had checked myself, I made it priority after the ceremony to introduce myself to this mom and asked about her tray of veggies and dip.
She began her story by touching my arm and smiling. I looked into her beautiful gray eyes and I could tell she was a woman living and enjoying life to the fullest. I loved her story surrounding her recipe and container. I especially loved how her daughter would finish her sentences and the admiration they had for each other. Wow. What a great encounter I would have missed if I hadn't allowed the Holy Spirit to check me.
Well as the night went on her tray of veggies disappeared and the mom came and retrieved her container. As she left she made it a point to come over to me and gave me a gentle hug saying softly in my ear, "How are you daughter of God? God wants you to know He sees what you did tonight". Then she left with a smile and a wave. Totally at a lost for words and breath, I stood there. Yes, thankful for so many reasons but mostly because forgiveness came immediately.
So many times it's easy to conform to what others are thinking and doing. It's easy to get caught up on your own prejudices. Thank you Father for keeping a mirror before me. Especially when you allow me to see myself in the eyes of others.
Friday, June 08, 2012
Fight
Biopsy, lumpectomy, or mastectomy or words I personally associated with women I saw on TV, women giving testimony at an annual walk I did or someone somebody else knew. But never would I have associated the word with myself. I called myself supporting issues that I felt were popular or trendy. I'm always the one who will give to a worthy cause or walk for one. I just didn't think I would become one of the causes.
I was turning 40 and couldn't wait to celebrate ME. Something that I had not done my entire adult life. Being unusually tired and feeling as though I might have pulled a muscle in my chest exercising I went in for an examination with my primary care physician. Who would have thought that visit would send my entire world in a tail spin. A seven year journey where I would have to learn how to fight for my life by diving into a world that only my doctor friends ventured into.
The primary care physician was doing the best explanation possible without causing me to have a "natural born fit" in the office. Besides others were there for wellness checks and my soaking the carpet with tears would not change the diagnosis. I sat there alone allowing the impact and the weight of it all to settle by pinching myself from time to time just making sure I was not dreaming. I felt myself reaching for the phone a couple of times to phone my husband and then realizing this was not how I wanted him to find out. The conversation I had I really don't want to repeat not now or ever. It was the lowest I had ever sunk. I only wanted to know, What's Next?
Well in January of this year after much research, prayer and thought I had a double mastectomy opting for reconstruction. Many would call it a good move others would think it to be a bit drastic. I say until you have faced what I faced personally, don't judge just listen. Dealing with breast cancer up to this point had been seven years, six surgeries and a mountain of medical bills. Yet, I had not shed a tear or felt alone. Just before they wheeled me into the operating room, I took a long deep look into my daughters eyes and we both immediately broke.
This was my only daughter, my first born. I had her at 20 and she grew up as I grew into adulthood. She was there with me when I married her father. She was there with me when I got my first job. She was there with me when my husband traveled five days a week for years. She was there through the ups and downs of life. She has always been there. I felt her spirit long before I gave birth to her and I knew there would be no greater love.
I looked at my daughter and I saw the heart of a champion shatter because this was one she could not control. Her superman complex fizzled and breast cancer had did this not only to me but to her. She was not accustomed to seeing me in such a venerable position and the weight of it all over took her. I saw her face fold into the chest of the man I have known and loved for over 28 years and I was angry. I felt her pain in my heart and throat and I wanted to reach out to her and hold her in my arms taking her pain away. But I was on a journey that no one could go with me. It was the first time in my adult life my daughter would not be with me. I was alone without my baby girl.
My voice was gone and there was nothing I could say. So I cried. Not so much for myself but for all those lives touched because of this disease. For the mother daughter talks and special girl night dates that would not happen. For all the daughters who had to live their lives without the mothers they loved. For all the prayers prayed. For all the stolen joy and faith, I now was angry. Angry enough not to die but to fight.
So I write this today still fighting something that touches more people than my pea brain could have imagined. I fight not for The Cause but Because I serve a God through which all things are possible to them that believe. I fight not for myself but for my daughter and for her daughter. For all the daughers we no longer want this disease to touch.
I was turning 40 and couldn't wait to celebrate ME. Something that I had not done my entire adult life. Being unusually tired and feeling as though I might have pulled a muscle in my chest exercising I went in for an examination with my primary care physician. Who would have thought that visit would send my entire world in a tail spin. A seven year journey where I would have to learn how to fight for my life by diving into a world that only my doctor friends ventured into.
The primary care physician was doing the best explanation possible without causing me to have a "natural born fit" in the office. Besides others were there for wellness checks and my soaking the carpet with tears would not change the diagnosis. I sat there alone allowing the impact and the weight of it all to settle by pinching myself from time to time just making sure I was not dreaming. I felt myself reaching for the phone a couple of times to phone my husband and then realizing this was not how I wanted him to find out. The conversation I had I really don't want to repeat not now or ever. It was the lowest I had ever sunk. I only wanted to know, What's Next?
Well in January of this year after much research, prayer and thought I had a double mastectomy opting for reconstruction. Many would call it a good move others would think it to be a bit drastic. I say until you have faced what I faced personally, don't judge just listen. Dealing with breast cancer up to this point had been seven years, six surgeries and a mountain of medical bills. Yet, I had not shed a tear or felt alone. Just before they wheeled me into the operating room, I took a long deep look into my daughters eyes and we both immediately broke.
This was my only daughter, my first born. I had her at 20 and she grew up as I grew into adulthood. She was there with me when I married her father. She was there with me when I got my first job. She was there with me when my husband traveled five days a week for years. She was there through the ups and downs of life. She has always been there. I felt her spirit long before I gave birth to her and I knew there would be no greater love.
I looked at my daughter and I saw the heart of a champion shatter because this was one she could not control. Her superman complex fizzled and breast cancer had did this not only to me but to her. She was not accustomed to seeing me in such a venerable position and the weight of it all over took her. I saw her face fold into the chest of the man I have known and loved for over 28 years and I was angry. I felt her pain in my heart and throat and I wanted to reach out to her and hold her in my arms taking her pain away. But I was on a journey that no one could go with me. It was the first time in my adult life my daughter would not be with me. I was alone without my baby girl.
My voice was gone and there was nothing I could say. So I cried. Not so much for myself but for all those lives touched because of this disease. For the mother daughter talks and special girl night dates that would not happen. For all the daughters who had to live their lives without the mothers they loved. For all the prayers prayed. For all the stolen joy and faith, I now was angry. Angry enough not to die but to fight.
So I write this today still fighting something that touches more people than my pea brain could have imagined. I fight not for The Cause but Because I serve a God through which all things are possible to them that believe. I fight not for myself but for my daughter and for her daughter. For all the daughers we no longer want this disease to touch.
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