We returned from our spring break in the mountains Sunday evening. I must tell you that I was not too happy about having to return. When we left the week before, we left a yellow dusty haze making blue skies look dirty and far from clear. The pollen we left was whirling like nothing I can remember. When we drove away that Easter day (my dad’s birthday), I was excited to be leaving the pollen behind!
In comparison, there was very little of the yellow invasive allergen-ridden dust in the mountains. It arrived while we were there. I kind of felt like we must have brought it with us on our car and spread it around my favorite mountain community of Highlands, NC. Even so, we were able to leave doors and windows open without being overcome by the effects, the amount was so sparse. Then, with a day of rain, it washed almost all of it away.
Well, upon arriving home and exiting the car, my tires were yellow just from the driveway. It was as if someone has spray painted my tires with “overcooked egg yolk yellow”, if that were a real color that Crayola or OPI nail lacquer were to coin for their own purposes.
We came indoors and immediately Rob went out the back to tend to the porch, which was smothered in the above mentioned unmarketable color. “Yuck” and “disgusting” were words I was thinking and speaking. I even thought, “Why’d we have to come home to THIS?! Ew!”
Rob whipped out the water hose and began washing the stuff away. As he would remove items from the porch tables, each table was left with the placements of items clear and clean while the surrounding area was covered in pollen. With a bit of gentle pressure on the water coming out and a good aim, his work was going well.
I decided to check out the front porch and as I opened the door and looked, my nose could even pick up the scent of the stuff and my hands felt dirty even though I had touched none of it. Rob had forbidden me from helping him in the task. I did not mind submitting to his command in this moment, not at all!
But, I was bummed by all the grit, dust, smell, and feel of it all. As I turned to come back in, I noticed a bag hanging on the door handle. I had not noticed it upon exiting the door. I was intrigued.
I unhooked the bag and brought it indoors and saw a note inside indicating the recipient along with the actual contents (seven clear cellophane bags filled with varying colors of tissue paper and tied with ribbons and cards indicating the contents of each bag). I was the recipient of these bags that several friends had sneakily compiled and delivered. By the way, there was no pollen in or on the bag, so they must have placed it there shortly before we returned.
Well, that’s all.
HA! Fooled you! You, like me that day, are now wondering what was in the bags. Well, I’ll tell you! Inside six of them were six sets of varying styles and colors of necklaces and earrings. Inside the seventh were four pairs of earrings, also in varying styles and colors.
These gals had determined that a new do would need some new bling and they “brought it”! Now my wardrobe has been enhanced even further with these baubles, bangles, and bright shiny beads! I hope I don’t get so excited to put on a new set that I walk out forgetting to finish the outfit with “Delilah” or a hat!
I decided to open the bags as a reward for unpacking. So, after unpacking my clothes, books, cosmetics, and head coverings, I settled cozily in my bed and opened the bags one by one and was overwhelmed with yet one more way He has blessed me during this time and in a way I would have never expected by people who didn’t have to do a thing yet felt compelled to minister to my heart and soul (ears and neck, too).
Then on Monday as the mailman dropped off all the mail, card after card poured out with index cards in so many with verses from friends written on them for me to add to my “off I go to chemo tote”.
My sister is working on projects to keep her busy in Tennessee and to bless me as she tries to imagine my head swathed in her creations. She knows I’m picky about what I will wear on my head. She may have to FROG a project (that means she knits some, tries it, then has to “rip-it”, “rip-it” and reuse in a better idea). She taught me that. I am not a knitter. How else would I know this?
My husband prays for me and with me each day as we conclude our simultaneous quiet times over coffee (which I smell more than drink these days).
My boys bless me with texts through the day of, “How are you Mom?”
Friends and family call to check in or email me. Facebook has been a gathering spot of encouragement to me and testimony to God in all this.
Meals are brought by so many on Mondays and Thursdays, thanks to another friend who set us up at www.takethemameal.com.
It just all adds up to too much goodness and I just get so overwhelmed by the genuine kindness, love, and care of so many. I also get convicted by my tendency to overlook so many in times of need.
So many, even some I will not meet this side of heaven, pray fervently for me and my family.
What am I to tell all of you for extending such grand love, grace, and mercy to me (to us)?
Thank you. I truly thank you and pray God’s blessings on you for stepping into our lives and ministering to US. Thank you!