It began with a simple question, “How did Guatemala change you?” Our Thursday morning prayer group was a smaller, more intimate
setting that allowed such a question and a wonderful time of testimony. While
the usual attendance numbered 10-15, this day there were only six of us, three
of whom had just returned from mission trips to Guatemala. Two were pastors who
seemed hesitant as they pondered our leader’s question. I, too, had hesitated
to attend that day, but after a few moments of their sharing, I was very glad I
had made the effort to get up early…I was changed.
I remembered one morning of my trip in
particular. I was enjoying my quiet time using my Bible and a “Jesus Calling”
devotional. The comfortable easy chair where I sat in my cousin’s living room
faced opposite a beautiful view of their back yard. The patio enclosure was
furnished with a typical outdoor table and chairs. I sat there slowly drinking
in the peace of that moment and praising God for His
Presence in the present, that day’s devotion theme. The author, Sarah Young, had written
about “The Divine Artist,” the art of living a divinely artful life, and then,
the Lord reminded me of His Presence in my cousin’s monetary birthday gift
which provided my rental car for making the long trip safely. Yes, I was
blessed, indeed.
I opened my eyes and gazed around the room to
see the patio again, but this time, a beautiful Blue Jay enjoyed flitting
around from perch to perch on each chair as if he was purposely “showing off”
his color to me! He captured my attention certainly when I realized I had not
seen this northern bird since I had moved away from my home near Dallas 18
years ago. “The Divine Artist” had
painted for me that morning! “Such a small thing” most people might say, but I knew God was
restoring hope in my soul with the sighting of a small blue bird. His Presence
manifested in my present, painting
a day in the life of His daughter to help me on my way to “artful living.” To
think that the Ruler of the Universe would create such an event, seemingly
trivial, yet so significant in my heart…Yes, Abilene changed me.
When Jann died in childbirth at age
22, my parents had flown her body from St. Petersburg, Florida where she had
lived with her husband, Ken. There had been services there with his family and
friends and again in Munday with our family, but there was no additional
memorial with our south Texas community where Dad’s career had moved the
family. Mom and Dad were so grief-stricken at her sudden death and felt they
could not endure another emotional service. So, her high school and college
chums really never had the closure they needed. To many friends, she had just
moved away and never came home again.
Now after 43 years, Linda had traveled to
this small rural community to mourn and pay her final respects to her matron of
honor. I can only imagine her grief since I had carried my own unsaid good-byes
for the same years, but I'd had many opportunities to lay them down at the
monument when I visited the family plot. My friend, Nancy and I had prayed that
the trip to the cemetery would bring a complete healing to this chapter in
Linda’s soul.
It brought a different balm to mine to see how
beautiful the bouquets were on the headstones. I had ordered the flowers to be
placed for the occasion and I was indeed thankful for God’s artful gift to
"grace the moment" through a local talented florist. The enemy of my
soul would have me blind and barren in that west Texas wilderness, but I am
grateful the Lord gave me a desire to “dress up” the monuments. It was such a
simple thing to call ahead and order the flowers, but through the colorful
bouquets, the Great Physician gave me a fresh vision and prescribed a new mental
picture for my chart in life!
I had not realized when I heard the question, “How did Guatemala
change you?” that I would soon use its inspiration to help me write
another family eulogy. Three weeks after my trip to Abilene and Munday, I made
two trips to Harlingen where my brother is buried. His sudden death two years
ago left his wife a widow at age 49. She was unable to overcome her grief at
“Sorrow’s Monument.”
In the days that followed, I
pondered the question for myself. I hadn’t been on any international mission
trips, but I had just returned from a family visit to north Texas. “How had Abilene and Munday changed me?”
My cousins had also planned a
short day trip to our small hometown. The agenda included a driving tour to see
cotton crops, the former homesteads, and a family meal with relatives at the
local Dairy Queen. It was scheduled after a visit to Johnson Memorial Cemetery
where my parents, my sister, and her infant son, are buried. It had been
three years since I had last visited the cemetery when my mother’s oldest
brother was laid to rest in the family plot. But today, this visit to “Sorrow’s
Monument” was different. I was with Linda, one of my sister’s best friends. It
was just by coincidence that we would be there together to embrace the moment
of change in both our lives.
I discovered that this is the
power of a simple photograph,
a documentary of times to remember, people we love, places we have been, and
things we cherish. All of these are evidence “we have lived, loved and been
loved.” A photograph is a tangible mental
picture held in my hand that proves I am fully alive to embrace life in the
“then and now.” My memories still carry vivid colors and my artist’s
imagination instantly transports me to places and times right along with them.
I can close my eyes and visit “Sorrow” or “Dress Up with Joy.” I can continually replay the video of
my painful losses and carry them laden with a heavy heart or I can choose to
see Life showing off its divinely artful bouquet. Yes, Munday changed me.
In preparing for her
memorial, I asked myself, “How did knowing her
change me? How had her life and her untimely death, her struggles,
her failures and her accomplishments…how did her life lessons change me?
How had our relationship and conversations, the prayers and scriptures we
shared, how had the Lord used these events to affect change in me?”
Yes, now I can say that Harlingen
did, indeed,
change me. I gave her eulogy and I, too, stand at “Sorrow’s Monument”
again. It is still painful and vivid at times, but now, when the memories come,
I choose to revisit that wilderness with visions of blue birds and colorful
bouquets.
Come
quickly, “Dress up with Joy!” We have some artful living to do!
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