Posted in faith, family, friendship, grace, life

Someone

I’ve been needing to write this for quite a while now. Until today, the words just wouldn’t come. The events described below occurred over the course of roughly eight years.

Have you ever been acquainted with, or even friends with, Someone who is obliviously careless in the way he or she treats people? For all intents and purposes, Someone is great — professing a love for God and people, and usually getting it right.

Until Someone gets it wrong. Repeatedly. And there seems to be no going back. No chance of recovery. Because Someone is completely oblivious to what he or she has done.

In the beginning, I thought I was at fault because I was putting too much value on things. It started with a table that I’d donated to a cause — a piece of furniture that had been in my family for decades, but for which I had no room. All seemed well, until one day I noticed the table sitting outside the building, the mid-century formica curled up by the recent rainstorm, ruined beyond repair. It made me so angry to see the table misused and cast aside — wasted. I regretted donating it, but then I told myself, “You don’t know who did this. And it’s just a THING. It’s not worth getting so angry.”

And so I tried to let it go.

A couple of years later, Someone asked if they could borrow my “old” camera to take some family portraits. It was not my primary camera any longer, but it was still a good camera, one my daughter was beginning to use. I took joy in passing it down to her, and I asked her before loaning it out, since it officially belonged to her. When the camera was returned, I didn’t think to inspect it, but the next time my daughter tried to remove the memory card, the eject button was broken and I had to pry the card out with my fingers. Upon closer inspection, I discovered the contact pins for the memory card were damaged. The camera was ruined. And Someone didn’t say anything. Again, I stifled my anger and reminded myself, “It’s just a THING. Maybe it was an accident.”

And so I tried to let it go.

Most recently, though, the carelessness has had nothing to do with things, and everything to do with people. Someone promised to be there for one of MY people. To fill a parental void left by an absentee parent. Someone made promises. Promises to go visit my person at college and to stay in touch. To step in where the absentee dad had left a void. Someone broke those promises. And my person was left yet again with a wounded heart.

It was getting harder to let it go.

Another one of MY people went through difficult times a couple of years ago. I’m glad to say my person is on the backside of those difficult times and joy fills her face more often than sorrow. But in the dark days she sought counsel from Someone she should have been able to trust. Someone broke her trust because she did not follow Someone’s timeline — she did not heal in the way, or as fast, as Someone wanted.

It was getting much harder to let it go.

Someone else claiming to be her kindred spirit, her soulmate, told her with all seriousness she was going to hell for things done in the dark days, and then turned around and did similar things, if not worse. All the while, Someone else pretended to be one thing around one group and another thing around another group. My person struggled to be transparent, to stop being all things to all people — she finally sought to discover who she is in Jesus Christ. In the discovery of who that is, she opened up her heart to forgiveness and reconciliation. Someone else gave her hope, and then snatched it away, telling her their friendship was ended, that they would never be friends again.

Suddenly all the pieces began to fit together for me. The carelessness with the things. The carelessness with the promises. The carelessness with the confidences. The carelessness with the “rules” — “it’s okay for me, but not for thee.” The carelessness with relationships.

And in that moment, it became easy to let go. To leave those someones behind, to realize that maybe these things happened for a reason because that place, those someones, were not where I (or we) belonged.

Each and every time I think of those someones, I try to ask God to help me forgive the hurts inflicted, however obliviously, on my loved ones and myself. I try to remind myself that those someones probably have no clue how their actions hurt me and mine. And I remember that I am someone, also — to make every effort to treat others with care and loving kindness.

 

Posted in faith, grace, life

The Sin of Worrying

Late August I went to the doctor because I have been aching all over and wanted to find out why. I mentioned that I had a sore spot in my groin on the left side and my doctor determined one of my lymph nodes was enlarged. So she sent me for an ultrasound and referred me to a surgeon because she expected a biopsy of some sort would be needed.

After some tests, the surgeon was concerned because the ultrasound showed a lymph node of 5 cm. Normal is between 1 and 1.5 cm. He sent me for a CT scan, but the soonest it could be done was a week later (which was last Friday). I really struggled with fear, because I lost my mom to cancer last year and I kept thinking about all the artificial sweetener I’d consumed in 44 oz Sonic and Bucees diet sodas over the years. (Probably a tanker full, at least.)

This morning I began a Bible study that my daughter has been encouraging me to do. In the course of reading the lesson, I flipped open my Bible to a scripture, but along the way (and only one page over) I saw a sidebar with a topical commentary on “worry” and I read it, because I have been worrying greatly over all this.

Worry is paralyzed faith. Worry is telling God he can’t handle things, that I have to take care of them. Worry is a sin.

Needless to say, I felt conviction immediately. I asked the Lord to forgive me for worrying, because no matter what happened — I belong to him and I trust him with my life, however much of it may remain.

Five minutes later the surgeon’s office called to say the results were in and could I be there at 2:45 pm to discuss them?

For a split second I felt that fear, that worry try to creep back up, but I resisted, reminding myself of what I’d read and how God has me in the palm of his hand. I told them I’d be there, and then I called my guy and asked him to meet me there after his workout.

And here’s the good news: the lymph node has shrunk. It has gone from 5 cm down to 2 cm! Almost normal. My surgeon believes it was responding to a small spot I had on my calf (that was removed by the dermatologist and came back non-cancerous from pathology) that had become inflamed, and most likely infected.

I am so grateful to the Lord for such good news. In addition, the CT scan revealed that all other organs (liver, pancreas, all that good stuff) is fine — no weird things to be concerned about. Praise the Lord!  

Posted in business, grace, life

Grace

I’ve been in business for almost seventeen years. In that time, I’ve put thousands of window blinds, shades, and shutters in the windows of homes throughout Brazoria County. I’ve only partly joked that each project is almost like a pregnancy: I never feel completely at ease until each “baby” is delivered safely and satisfactorily into its new home. It’s always been very important to me to provide quality products, excellent customer service, and the promise that if my clients ever have a need, all they have to do is call me.

Every so often, though, there’s a hiccup. A speed bump, a hitch. This particular hiccup occurred because we’ve gone through a rough patch as a family, with illness hampering already stressful, but normal transitions. Without the illness, without the stressful transitions, I would have been on top of my game a bit better and the ordering, delivery, and installation of a single blind would not have been delayed.

Let me preface by saying this: we provided the entire house of blinds, but the opening where this single blind will reside had not yet been completed when I took the original set of measurements. It was unknown when the window sill would be installed, and it was unknown if tile would wrap inside the opening — requiring cut outs on each side for a truly custom fit. So the client paid for all the blinds and I made it clear that I would not be able to order the single blind until the window was finished.

At one point I called to find out if the opening was finished and was told, “yes.” I took time out of my day to drive over to get the measurements to discover that the window was NOT finished. (The house was still in the last stages of construction and when I arrived the door was open and no one was to be found.)

So I had to go back a second time to get the measurements, when the window was finally finished. I was a little disappointed to see that they had, in fact, put tile around the inside of the opening, requiring the cut outs, the wholesale cost of which is more than a standard blind. Cost that I had not included in my sales price, since I never charge clients for something “just in case” — and I don’t go back and increase prices after the fact, after the quote is delivered.

Between the time I got the measurements and ordered the blind, my daughter became very ill with pneumonia the week she was supposed to move to the University of Houston. Obviously, I was a little distracted, being worried about her illness in general, and how it would affect her first days at the university. Everything is okay now, but the last eleven days have been rough, what with worrying about her and trying to get things back on track in general.

Thus my reason for thinking about “grace.” This afternoon my client called to ask about the blind and in a conversation that started out pleasantly enough, I was told that if the blind wasn’t installed by Tuesday, the order would be cancelled. The order that clearly states “no cancellations” right above the place where the client signs to initiate the order. I explained that I was not at home, but working on another project and that I would check to see if the blind had arrived as soon as I got home. I explained that I was pretty sure the blind should be arriving any day, and that we’d had these health issues in the midst of trying to move our daughter to Houston.

I was reminded of “how many referrals” had been sent my way through this client, and then I was told that my daughter had been off at college for two weeks. I can only guess this was an assumption based on when other college kids left for school. However, I’m the one (along with her dad) who took her furniture to Houston while she rested here at home. I’m the one that fought with the apartment complex when we discovered the apartment had not been made ready, and stank like a litter box because of cat urine soaked carpet. I’m the one who lovingly bullied my exhausted daughter into moving to the apartment four days later than her roommates, and starting class the third day of the semester so she would have a little more time to recover. Basically, I was shamed for being human, having illness in my family, and not keeping it all together for a single blind.

Today. Today I was in serious need of a little grace.