My last email was about the grandeur and beauty of God’s creation and how his creation shows God’s love without words. Today I am thinking of small vignettes giving evidence of God’s love in all things.
I wrote about this one a couple years ago:
Yesterday when I was getting coffee at Starbucks, I saw what I guessed was a sister and her brother. The sister looked around 11 or so, the brother around 5. First, in line, the sister directed her brother to go sit at a table. Later, when I was outside, returning to Starbucks, she and her brother were, too. The sister was several feet ahead and said, “Better hurry up, I’m going to leave you!” Soon the brother caught up and as she held the door open for him, she said, “You know, I would never actually leave you, right?”
Doesn’t that just fill your heart?
Another time near that same Starbucks, which I wrote about, too:
The little boy was an incredibly cute chunk of a guy, toddling along beside his mom, chattering away, oblivious to everything, walking to his personal drummer. Mom had to pull him gently toward the car, then stand to block him from walking off to who knows where while she opened the door. She had to set her coffee on the ground and put her purse on the car floor, then pick him up -- he continued to babble away --, twist her body into the car in order to get him situated in his car seat, then retrieve her coffee, get herself in the car and they were off.
I was struck by the sweetness of it. The baby completely oblivious but so incredibly cherished. The mother so matter-of-factly performing this act of love.
Yet another time:
I was watching people entering a church where you had to go down a few stairs to get to the courtyard in front of the door. A woman probably in her 40’s was walking arm-in-arm with an elderly lady, perhaps her mother. At the stairs, the woman put both her hands on the other’s arm, to get a more secure hold, and bent her head to carefully watch the progress of her elderly companion down the steps. The solicitous bend of her head was such a tender posture, her attention so loving.
This poem expresses what I am thinking of. The “bless you” part makes me smile. I often think how nice it is to have an excuse to bless people.
~ a poem by Danusha Lameris~
I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk
down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs
to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you”
when someone sneezes, a leftover
from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.
And sometimes, when you spill lemons
from your grocery bag, someone else will help you
pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.
We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,
and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile
at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress
to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,
and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these
fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,
have my seat,” “Go ahead—you first,” “I like your hat.”
What can I pray about for you?
love and blessings,
What is this?? A while back, I had an idea. I was thinking of some friends I wanted to pray for, but I didn't have a specific thing to pray about on their behalf. I decided to pray that they would feel God's love. I decided to send them an email when I prayed, so they'd know and be encouraged. Then I thought about my many other family and friends who I would like to encourage with prayer, and decided to start this email.
Two things I try to do:
-- Encourage you with a reminder of God's love. My goal is to avoid anything where the response is "I should..." Just a short reflection of God's love.
-- Pray for you. I'll pray with each email, and please reply to me with anything you'd specifically like me to pray for you. I'll keep it confidential, don't worry..
. If you would like to send me specific prayer requests. I will gladly pray with you. Email me at mavis at moonfamily.cc. I'll keep all communication confidential.