Shirley

There is a woman I think about a lot, especially when I am waivering in my faith.  Well, I don't waiver in my faith of God.  I know that is true.  I waiver in my faith with the feeling that 'I'm not in the family' so to speak.  You know, the 'it works for everyone but me' whine that I know I can get into when I'm feeling frustrated or when I get too caught up in what's not working out instead of all that is working well.

Her name was Shirley.  When we moved to Alabama, she lived across the street from us.  She was one of the first people to welcome us into the neighborhood.  Her wide, enthusiastic smile is always the first part of her face that materialized in my memory of her.  She would leave secret presents for my children on Christmas and Easter.  Little trinkets that were like gold to them.  Mysterious, generous, gifts.  She always had a wave across the street when she saw me in the yard.  There was never an uncomfortable, awkwardness about conversation with her.  She was always direct but sincere. 

When we decided on a church to start attending regularly, I was pleasantly surprised that Shirley was a member.  She was a greeter the first Sunday we went.  Her bright smile and warm embrace on the steps of the church solidified in my mind that I had chosen the right place.  I made some very good and lasting friends there.  It was through those friends that I learned Shirley's story.

At one time she had been married.  She had two sons.  One had muscular dystrophy and one was a track star in high school.  The boys were two years apart.  Because of his illness, her younger son eventually died.  Two years after his death, her older son, the handsome, athlete with a promising future, was killed in a car accident.  Some time after that, her husband left her.  None of this horrific past was evident in Shirley's attitude toward life.  She was always among friends.  Was always positive.  Was always putting God first.  I never heard a grumble or complaint from her. 

After we moved a friend of mine called me to tell me that Shirley had contracted breast cancer.  During her fight, she was never critical or complaining.  In fact, on several occasions, she spoke at church confessing to everyone how blessed she was and how good God had been to her.  Until her last breath, she was faithful to her place with God. 

I so admire that strong confidence in a relationship with God. Not arrogant or cocky, but someone who is secure in the knowledge that God is a loving god.  That when the imperfections of life create such huge and gaping wholes, God is wanting and able to mend the hurt and hold us close.  I find that when I stop fighting God, and just let go of my fears, I begin to feel that closeness.  It's hard, though, letting go of anger and resentment and the, 'why me' attitude.  So, I think of Shirley.  Her kindness, her enthusiasm.  Her sincere love of God. Her forgiveness. 

Merry Christmas and a Joyful New Year to everyone.  My prayer is that we all can find the same kind of relationship and comfort in our lives that allows us to forgive and move forward into a wonderfully blessed future.