What I have

My widowed grandmother came to live with my family before I was born.  Indeed, she had already been widowed for twelve tough years, working incredibly hard as a single mom to literally keep bread on the table. 

Those visible needs stirred up not despair, but immense currents of creativity in her.  I can remember many times as a young girl my grandmother taking what little she found in the fridge and a few cans from the pantry and serving a wonderful meal to unexpected --and unsuspecting --guests.

With her, it was never "I don't have enough,"  or "I can't afford that," but "what else can I do with that? How can I make it work?"  whether the fine art of creating casseroles or re-purposing worn out and outgrown clothing.  She did not just recognize need, but opportunity.  She knew how to respond to it, because she had already navigated a lot deeper turbulent waters than what was before her.

She was not paralyzed by what she did not have, but stirred to life by what she did.

When she came to live with us, she had virtually nothing monetarily to live on, she struggled daily with the deep physical pain of rheumatoid arthritis, but oh, what a blessing she brought to each of us.  What I remember most about her were her gifts of time and kindness.  As busy as she was, no matter how busy she was, even in the middle of some task, she set things aside to listen and respond.  She did not have money to lavish on the four kids in our family, but she had time -- she made time -- and always boatloads of kind and loving words.  She was available, not because she had nothing better to do, but because she knew the deep and enduring significance of being ready and present.

It has been so many incredible decades ago, but I can still hear her voice responding to me, "Well, darling, sometimes you just have to trust the LORD about that."  And over the years, how many times that truth has come almost audibly to the surface of my thoughts in times of need.  I witnessed the faithfulness of God lived out in her quiet selfless life.

Whereas all other childhood things and toys have been discarded or fallen apart, her gift of time and loving words continue to resonate in my life.   Her life was largely invisible to the outside world, but she invested generously in the relationships around her, no matter who it was.

Even confined to the house, she had a box of cards to send out an encouragement when she heard about someone struggling.  I think about how much she would have taken advantage of texting sunshine to others at a moment's notice. 

"I cannot do everything, but I can do something," says author Steven Garber in his book Visions of Vocation.

And indeed, she did.  On so many levels.  In word and deed and countless prayers.

What is on my radar today,
who has God placed on my heart,
       what can I do?

But Peter said,
"I have no silver and gold,
but I give you what I have;
in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,
                           walk."

                                   Acts 3. 6

The unexpected and proximate
     is sometimes the most profound.