Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Remembering those who have helped me along the way...

My dear sister-friend, Mair, has done it again.
Read this when you get the chance.
In the meantime, enjoy this small piece of her powerful post.

Who are the people who spread their cloak around you and covered you when you were most vulnerable? Who were the souls on your personal underground railroad who made haste to steal you away to freedom in the night? Maybe some are long gone from your life, or even from this world. Pour their names out of your mouth like a libation. Give thanks for them, and after you've done that, take a moment to remember those who are still bound, even if that person is you. And pray once again.



When I think of the phone calls from Jen G when my daughter was in the hospital,
and the conversations with Lisa about shared marital and maternal concerns,
and the cups of coffee and gales of laughter and paint spills with Heather,

when I recall Karen's visit last November and how she forced me to eat and sleep when I didn't want to do either, and look at photos of Eduardo and Leticia and Marta and Manolo and Ester and Antonio and recall how they have welcomed me and fed me and taken me to so many beautiful, quiet, prayerful, lovely places in Spain,

whenever I use Itiel's sweet smelling goodies to nourish my skin and my spirit and look at the peace flags from Ohio on my study wall and burn incense from India, when I look at the jewelry and journals and candles and pens given to me by people who thought about me when they were someplace else and decided to bring me home a gift,

when I reread text messages from dear and distant friends, and print Jena's emails and blog posts so I can reread them in the thick, dark nights of parenting, read Karen Maezen's wise words on gentle, mindful parenting,

when I recall professors and doctors and nurses and midwives and dining hall workers and librarians and bus drivers and coaches and pilots and the countless souls whose names I never knew, but who have taught me and cared for me and fed me and been patient with my questions and transported me during this journey that is my life...

and tonight as I ponder the Greensboro Four - the four freshmen from North Carolina A&T State University, who 50 years ago right now were involved in the Woolworth's lunch counter sit-in in Greensboro, North Carolina (the sit-ins in Greensboro began on Feb 1, 1960 and ended late in July of the same year) - the four men whose history Kristiana and I learned about today at a newly inaugurated museum in that city - I remember the thousands of African-Americans and their allies who risked their lives and the dozens who lost their lives, so that I can live the amazing life I live here in Charlotte, North Carolina. Humbling. Sobering. Saddening. Challenging. Empowering.

Thank you, all of you. Thank you, each of you. Thank you, all of you whose names are not listed here, but who have loved me* and supported me* and cooked for me* and written to me* and called me* and thought of me* and prayed for me* and wept with me* and for me,* all of you who have invited me to share your lives with you. Your love for me* does not go unnoticed, nor is it taken for granted. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

(* and by "me," I  mean me and my family...)

With so much floating through my heart and mind tonight, I am deeply and profoundly grateful. Grateful, grateful, grateful, grateful.


Thank you yet again, Mair, for reminding me to think about the goodness of the Lord and give Him thanks.

4 comments:

Lisa said...

This is beautiful!

You are most welcome.

It is an honor, privilege, and blessing to be your friend.

A million hugs of gratitude back to you, dear Gail. :)

Lisa said...

This is beautiful!

You are most welcome.

It is an honor, privilege, and blessing to be your friend.

A million hugs of gratitude back to you, dear Gail. :)

lulliloo said...

This is good Gail...and timely. Thank you for sharing and remembering what has both bound and liberated you...thank you for celebrating those who have stood by you, with you, on the truth that rescue is indeed possible.

You and yours, are indeed lovely.

jena strong said...

What Lisa said.