elane

gray. her hair was gray.

and she liked to wear purple. and elephants.

her heart danced in a way that that her swollen feet could not. her smile, her laugh, her song. joy emitted beneath a body ridden with age and diabetes. her hands were soft and small, and yet their wrinkles shouted strength, weathered from years of powdered milk and food stamps. and three young boys to raise.

she always wore pink on her lips and topaz on her ears. and her necklaces always jingled the same exact tune. a creature of habit, i had assumed. now i wonder if she was merely physically, emotionally or mentally incapable of picking anything else.

her eyes shone, bright despite the past pains. long gone struggles. nights wondering where the next meal to come. days alone, while her husband tried to make ends meet.

i know her eyes shone. i can see it in the pictures and i know it my head. i try to tell myself over and over. because i know it to be true. over and over. her eyes. they shone. sparkled. lustrous. brilliant. tiny spheres of happiness.

but, in my heart, i can only see her haunting, lifeless eyes. dark and blank, like her mind. only those eyes are what i see. in every memory. in every dream.

because, for some reason, all i really remember are the days she began to slip away.

remembrances...

"I have one desire now-to live a life of reckless abandon for the Lord, putting all my energy and strength into it,”

- Ed McCully, in a letter to Jim Elliot immediately after leaving law school to pursue mission work. September 22,1950

Fifty four years ago, today, he and four others recklessly abandoned their lives for the Lord.

for venetta

i needed a word today. an inspiration. a line

i needed God today. so much so that it made me hurt inside. i could literally feel myself longing for Him with an ever present desire and strength, filled with angst and pain. i could not escape the question that had been raking my mind for days now: "where is He?"

and then i thought of venetta sweet sweet venetta, whose name i wasn't even sure how to spell. (yes, i actually looked it up on google.)

she isn't directly related to me, actually. she is my mom's sister's mother-in-law, but i do not remember a time when she wasn't in my life. i saw her on random occasions, mostly my cousins' graduations, but in some ways she was somewhat of a third grandma to me. i had always appreciated her words of kindness, and i admired her deep and grounded love for the Lord.

venetta is old. almost ninety, in fact. and her struggle with osteoporosis has caused her to bend at an almost ninety degree angle. once a lady of strong, tall stature, she is now frail and petite, having shuffle along with effort if she wants to go anywhere. her voice shakes so badly that it is hard to understand her words when she is talking to you, and often, she forgets what she wanted to say next. she is no longer independent and lives in a nursing home near her daughter. it was a hard move for, i am sure, but she is firm in her faith and knows that God can use her wherever he chooses.

and yet, this lady amazes me. she loves, no... adores the Lord. even after her husband died years ago. even when she sees friend after friend pass away. even as she is so often overlooked and misunderstood, she loves the Lord. and that love still impacts those around her, including myself.

i saw her last weekend, while up visiting my grandparents and i told her, somewhat, of the struggle i have been feeling for so long. she looked up at me, with her pale blue eyes, and smiled such a kind smile that i knew she understood. "isn't it hard," she said. "when the Lord decides to put you through that?" i had to agree. she continued. "He tries and tries to get your attention, and finally puts you through something that makes you land on your knees. but you know, He is there. all the time. He is there."

i looked at her. amazed. how did she know? i asked. "because. He loves us," came the reply. so simple.

as i left the next day, she pulled me aside and hurried me to her room. (hurried is, of course, a completely relevant word.) she gave me a worn out copy of streams in the desert by Mrs. Chas E. Cowman. she told me that she thought it would help me. "i have dozens" she said, smiling. "i hope it helps you as it helped me."

and so i picked it up today, on a whim of desperation and i turned to the page titled "november 11" because it seemed so fitting.

and venetta. it helped.

you have shown me God

“When across the heart deep waves of sorrow
Break, as on a dry and barren shore;
When hope glistens with no bright tomorrow,
And the storm seems sweeping evermore;

“When the cup of every earthly gladness
Bears no taste of the life-giving stream;
And high hopes, as though to mock our sadness,
Fade and die as in some fitful dream,

“Who shall hush the weary spirit’s chiding?
Who the aching void within shall fill?
Who shall whisper of a peace abiding,
And each surging billow calmly still?

“Only He whose wounded heart was broken
With the bitter cross and thorny crown;
Whose dear love glad words of Joy had spoken,
Who His life for us laid meekly down.

“Blessed Healer, all our burdens lighten;
Give us peace, Thine own sweet peace, we pray!
Keep us near Thee till the morn shall brighten,
And all the mists and shadows flee away!”