Just as the children of Israel set stones as memorials to remind them of the mighty things the Lord had done for them, we put tangible items into our Memorial Box, to represent and remind us, of the many times the Lord has moved on our behalf. And just as the Israelites passed down the stories of God's provision to their children, and their children's children--we will use our Memorial Box to remind our children of God's great faithfulness to our family, and His personal love for us!
Memorial Box Monday: I Won! A Friend!
A story in which the Memorial Box, became it's very own memorial . . .
In the summer of 2009 my friend Linny, over at A Place Called Simplicity, announced that she was going to be doing a little Memorial Box giveaway. I had been faithfully reading Linny's Memorial Box Monday stories, and was delighted about being given the chance to win a Memorial Box for our family. I happily entered the giveaway . . . along with 155 other people. Me and
one hundred and fifty-five others, did you catch that? Not very good odds with one entry, but Linny had a plan up her sleeve, and turns out God had an even bigger plan up His. (God's sleeves are
big, take my word for it.)
August 23, 2009, the day arrived for
Linny to announce the winner of the Memorial Box, but . . . as often is the case with Linny, there was a twist! Unbeknownst to her readers Linny had done a little shopping (or a lot)-- and instead of one Memorial Box winner, Linny announced ten! With my heart going thumpety thump I scrolled down Linny's "drumroll please" to read the 10th place winner's name, and then scrolled down to see the 9th place winner . . . thump thump. . . then 8th . . . scroll . . . . . 7th . . . not me . . .6th . . . .thump thump . . . 5th . . . scroll . . . 4th . . . now holding my breath . . . 3rd . . . still not me . . . 2nd . . . not me . . . oh come on . . . pleeeeeaaaase . . . and low and behold when I got down to First Place, there was my name!
My very own name! If I remember right I shouted
very LOUDLY and scared my entire family! I was so stinkin' excited, and because I had won first place I got first pick of the boxes! How fun is that?
My newly arrived box!
After I'd caught my breath I sat back down to leave Linny a comment, thanking her for my wonderful surprise! At some point I went back and read through the comments left by others on Linny's post--and as I did so I clicked on a couple of the other winner's blogs. The fifth place winner was someone named "PINK". I blog-hopped over to check out PINK, only to realize that she was also in Texas. I don't remember what it was that she'd shared, but as I read through her posts I was quite sure that Pink and I were in the same city. I believe I left her a comment, introducing myself and telling her of our new Memorial Box "connection".
As I remember it "Pink" and I began to get to know one another a bit through our blogs. A few months later we became Facebook friends, and we kept up with one another a little more frequently through Facebook. What did I know about Pink? Pink's
real name was Terry. She was single, lived in an apartment on the opposite side of the city from me, and she shared her space with a four-legged, long bodied companion, named "Cooper"--her beloved dachshund.
And at age 40, Terry was a
two time breast cancer survivor-- having undergone her first cancer related surgery on her 32nd birthday.
"Pink" . . . . it all made sense. As we began to get to know one another I learned that Terry had suffered much loss in her lifetime and had no immediate family left to lean on to.
Life had not been easy for my new friend.
One evening, about 18 months or so into our virtual friendship, Terry instant messaged me on Facebook. This was the first time we'd ever "chatted". It wasn't long before Terry shared that she'd received devastating news that week. The cancer had returned. This time rearing its ugly head in her right lung and in her liver. I sat at the keyboard stunned, heart aching, praying for words of comfort to share with a friend I'd still never "met". Two days earlier Bryan and I had learned that we were going to be doing a military transfer across town--to a base on Terry's side of the city. What was now a forty minute drive between us (in crazy traffic), would become about fifteen. As I shared the news of our impending move with Terry, I was sure that God was up to something.
The moving van came a few weeks later. It was now April of 2011. As soon as our new home was semi-settled Terry and I made arrangements to meet at a Mexican restaurant for lunch. This would be just the beginning of many Mexican lunch dates, late night phone conversations, and text messages that if published would now fill
volumes.
Sometime the Lord uses us in unexpected ways . . . Terry already had a best friend. Kay was and still is, her "bestie". Terry and Kay, and Kay's sweet family, share life. It was apparent to me from the beginning, that my purpose was different from Kay's. Kay's heart was already deeply invested in Terry-- emotions ruled, as well they should in a best friend relationship . . . but emotions can be strong and hard to get past when you are trying to "sort through" life. My purpose, to listen and encourage, was different. The dynamics were different. Never underestimate the Lord's ability to use you in a situation that may feel awkward, or in a situation that you may not understand. His ways are higher (and His ways have now given me another new friend, in Kay).
Kay, Terry, me and my Taye, celebrating my birthday
As spring quickly turned to summer this new season would bring . . .
a blossoming friendship that shared the joy of laughter, and trust, and chocolate, and late nights of long soul-baring conversations . . . and sometimes tears . . .
A friendship where Terry would confess repeatedly, "I never share my heart with people like this, not even people I've known for a
long time." To which I would reply, "Well then I guess you should call me Esther, because I think I've been sent
for such a time as this."
Ours was a friendship in which I would all too soon (and all too well) become familiar with the dark, ugly face of cancer . . .
A friendship that would find me in desperate middle of the night struggles to defend and comfort my sweet friend against chemo's hair robbing, gut wrenching, body-quaking pain. Praying.
And then praying some more.
A friendship of tears. And of silent moments, where there are just
no words, when shared silence is all you can do to help.
A friendship where our only hope was
and is in our Healer Lord-- the very One who brought us together in the first place.
Terry's fight continues. Her life rests in God's hands, as do all of ours. For now we do our best to get through the hard stuff, and for Terry-- the painful stuff, and we make the best of the time we are given. We laugh. We cry.
It's love, and it's life
at its rawest form--where you learn to find joy in the little stuff.
And we carry on.
Thank you Linny, for your giving heart. Thank you Lord, for providing a boat load of Memorial Boxes for Linny so that Your perfect plan for friendship could come to fruition. You are Good.
Into our Memorial Box will go a copy of the comments from Linny's
"And The Winner Is . . . " post-- for this is where it all began.
To Terry, my beautiful "friendy" --thank you for allowing me to be your Esther. Thank you for letting me in, even when it was so darn hard. Thank you for your honesty, and for trusting me with your weary heart. Thank you for showing me what true courage looks like. Thank you for believing me when I told you that you didn't need to be strong, that He was strong enough for the both of you.
He is. Never forget that you are His worthy one,
the beloved daughter of the most High King. To the moon friendy . . .
Blessings from my nest ~
Tina
