Footprints in the Sand and A Wise Old Owl

I am very sad...but Jesus is carrying me at the moment.

I am sure most of you are familiar with the "Footprints" story. It has made its way on to numerous plaques, chachki's (I am certain that spelling is wrong; a little gift store gizmo item...) and postcards. If you are not familiar with it, it is basically a story of two sets of footprints in the sand. One for a man who dreamed this story, and one for the Lord. The story unfolds, but at the end there is only one set of footprints. When the man questioned why, the Lord answered, "During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."

My dad gave me this postcard on January 28th when I went to the fabulous dinner with him.

I am being carried.


There are several other touches of grace (of course, with every drop of grace comes a kick in the you know what, but then that means the kicker is behind me as it should be. You know, get behind me Satan...)

Another touch of grace I received was from a childhood friend, the same friend who joined me in CA when I went to visit my other childhood friend with cancer. She *happened* to be in NYC this weekend...and we met, totally unplanned, a spontaneous spirit driven event...way too long a story to write here, but amazing. Amazing grace.

At any rate, she reminded me of a childhood saying that our teacher had often presented us with:

"A wise old owl sat in an oak; the more he heard, the less he spoke. The more he spoke, the less he heard. Why can't we be like this wise old bird."

May I be granted much wisdom in the days ahead.

If there is someone you need to let them know you love them, please go do it now. They are the last words I spoke with my dad.

Peace.

Two Celebrations of Life

Today I was privileged to participate in two celebrations of life.

One celebrated the life of Paul Thomas in a Memorial Service of his life. Paul was 65 and the father of my dear friend and babysitter extraordinaire, Abby. Abby was also a faithful pray-er for me, long before I appreciated her efforts. She would say to me, "Kathy I am praying for you" and well, it just made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't realize what a gift she was imprting.

Yes, there were many tears and also grief in his passing from this life to the next. But there was also hope; hope that through the bond of faith the family will be reunited in the time and space of eternity. That is the hope the family will hold close that through the bond of Christ this is a temporary separation. We listened to the song by Mercy Me, "I Can Only Imagine" and as I listened I closed my eyes to try to imagine just a glimpse of what that time in a place called Heaven will be like. And how I long to share that with the people I care about.

My dad came with me. He is here for a couple of doctor appointments. It is his turn for health crisis. He has a horrible rash, I mean omigosh red...all over that he had assumed was hives, stress or an allergic reaction to medication. His dermatologist (not Howie) didn't think it was any of them, but was reluctant to venture a guess without biopsy results.

The funeral was tough for him, because he is at an age (80) where he is losing friends. It starts to hit really close to home and brings thoughts of "What am I here for?" "Have I accomplished what I was supposed to in this life?""Where do I go next?" But it also brought connection through contemplation and discussion of these haunting questions, haunting because there is uncertainty in the answers...And also close to home because now he has health issues, and he is scared. But he believes in God, and that is a wonderful connection point for discussion.

The other celebrated my friend Janis' victory over breast cancer. Janis invited several of her friends and supporters through her illness to a high tea. It was just a wonderful event of delectable finger foods, feeling special and celebrating life.

Janis is the last person on the right. So many of her friends from different spheres of her life were there to join her in this victorious celebration.

Now here is something really bizarre. I was talking to a friend of mine seated at this table, while facing the woman in pink. As I was speaking to my friend, I kept staring at this woman, while feeling somewhat confused and disoriented. I was so distracted I couldn't pay attention to my friend I was speaking to. We locked eyes and both came to the same stunning realization at the same time. We were both at Paul's service earlier today. She entered the chapel at the same time we did and sat directly in front of us. It gave me chills. I had to excuse myself from my conversation and get a handle on how we both could be at two such different yet similar events miles (about 50) apart in the course of the same day, celebrating the lives of two special people.

And this is Betty, Janis' mother, who I first met at a writer's conference several years ago. She also recently experienced a serious health scare and the fact that she was here today sharing in this celebration was nothing short of miraculous.

What a blessing to celebrate and support friends in their grief and joy, in their searching for answers and gratitude. For together being a part of God's family