A Gentle Reminder

A Gentle Reminder


As I have been laying here trying to close the windows of my mind for yet another night I am gently embraced by the thoughts of how humility makes its presence known in a world of multicolored personalities rushed by the counting of days.
I am tickled by the rose colored cheeks I seem to see beyond the color of my own skin. I am gently caressed by the beauty of such souls in the world.
I can not but wonder the lesson, although many, I am to learn. But I remain steadfast in thought daily by the tender mercies I have witness by such a humble individualized set of people I have had the greatest pleasure of sharing my penned in time.
I wonder with amazement just how busy is my schedule, or just how consistent I am, or just how organized I have become, or even just how sick I really am. One other is the thought of just how open is open for me and why is that I have become so private. What in my life is so private that I must be the closed book of untapped integrity?
For through my organized hurried eyes, I have been brought to a slow crawl this night.
I am not sulking with shame, nor am I guilt ridden for I believe that some things needed to be said by our Lord are subtle and without launch power. Just gentle enough for one to embrace or even just to look again and think not about the bigness of one’s own world but also the bigness of another’s.
Elementary things muddle me, where as it is the Harvard things which become, at times, relaxed for me. This is neither to me.
How busy is my schedule. Every day I am in need of knowing how all aspects of my life are for that day. I fret upon cancellation.
I place a toe in the life of a woman I met while “she” speaks to me. Though home, job, and clothed…..never do I hear her talk about her schedule in life. Surgery has not taken her job… to her job must take her time.
How consistent am I?
I watch, as though through the eyes of a child, in amazement how the rivers of faces light up to see me. As though I were a great person I am welcomed as though I were somebody. To me I become small with shame for not being consistent because my boxed in schedule seemed to need more tending to all seven days of the week. But yet “he” tells me he’s been waiting for me to come back and hasn’t missed one Sunday. I am shamed by the thought that I am not as consistent as he.
How organized am I? I do not carry a bag though I should carry something so as to not have to empty my pockets upon every return home. I leave home and do not think about pen nor paper, only my cell phone and a crease in my pants. I am asked a question to which pen to paper are needed. As usual I pat myself down knowing full well I have neither. Then stop mid-stream while watching “her” undo the life and home on which she carries on her back, go through the tunnel that she knows so well to get to the pen she knows she has. Then turns the bag to the left and shifts it a little then a little more just enough to know that the paper will slide into her hand. It is many years old and many weathers later, but she knows and is organized. To me I would classify it as an organized mess but to her it is her home. She hands me the pen and paper.

Yet again I am faced with the thoughts each week of getting enough rest in order to work, run and play. Some days I stay in bed just because I “feel” I want to and because “the doctor told me to”. I use the signed paper from my doctor to verify this to myself. But then I am brought down to a humble mercy cry unto the Lord. I am faced to face with a smile with that pierces through even the hardest of hearts. The water lines of tears you hope do not fall on to deaf ears. I stand and stare waiting for something I am use to hearing…”how are you today”. Instead I am looked at then smiled at, then told how the surgery went just days before and how the rule of thumb was not to move for several weeks but instead how she couldn’t and didn’t want to miss work, also that she had to practice because she was part of a team that needed her in a competition. Then to top it all off…….she couldn’t not come because she wanted to be here today to see me. The pain she hid, the days she greeted with reverence, the streets she tended to, yet her health was the last of her worries. She daily puts herself last for fear she will not be there.
I have no words only tears to shed in awe.
Words are as powerful as you sound them out to be. This day I am on top of the world because I have just finished memorizing a verse from the bible that took me all week to memorize. I meant to spend the time but just couldn’t find it. I hand over a cup of coffee and as though I needed recompense for it I was halted by the air suddenly becoming a picture as I was given a poem. In my prideful head I felt that that was nice…until I was chopped of my high horse and brought to even ground. I was sought out and another thought of poetry gently caressed my ears. This time I listen and found that these where not out of any book but out of the heart of one who found a way to share each memory in the chapter of life for them. I explained how these should be put into a book, whereas the book was immediately handed to me. Many hands, eyes, and ears have been graced by this book it was plain to see. My heart asked God what was it that I was to do. The book has a hardier cover but the words remain the same as does the love behind the words.

We know that the good thing to do is to love the way we wish to be loved. Let’s look at ourselves and honestly ask what it is that we are missing, wish to be loved.
Let’s look at ourselves and honestly ask what it is that we are missing or wanting or even needing. Is it wishing to share with someone who would have enough time to really sit down and listen to our inner most unbridled even elementary thoughts or even to have someone to make us not feel alone no matter how packed the world we live in is?
Give it a thought, you are not the only one in the world who is thinking the same way you are and that we are all alike with different agenda’s but we all share the universal thing called “need”. Invest in something that has growth ability, sow into something that has a harvest so rich. If you need it chances are there is someone out there that needs the same thing. Whether it is a chance in life or just a quarter to call someone who cares!

God tells us to love with the love of God. These words are God in action. These words a not empty but truth abounding in creating in us a clean heart and renewing a right spirit within us all. There is no way to spend time with such a diverse, knowledgeable, and beautiful arena of people without touching the cross that shed blood so that we may live and know who God is.

I realized that if God where to come to earth before I would not have recognized him nor offered him bread. I am ashamed of whom I was but I humbly accept who God is making me into…HIS IMAGE.

If you still have a question on your breath, just ask yourself this:

W.W.J.D?