Originally written: September 26, 2015
Today an old friend from high school came to visit. It’s been two years since I saw her last, and of course, we picked up where we left off. It was a beautiful day out—the kind where it cools your skin but warms your core, the part of you that longs for fall days where the scents cook you from the inside out. It makes me think of Camp Wakonda, the Ox Roast, the Loudonville Fair. Deep breath—bliss!
So we sat in the late afternoon coolness, right outside the garage where we could watch the kids make circles on their bikes.
My garage is a mess but I hoped she wouldn’t care. Heavens, she’s a mom!
As we went to sit down, she said, “Is that your cane??”
My what!? I thought, turning my head to see my husband’s grandmother’s old cane.
Seriously? I thought with a long, internal groan.
But I guess that could be me sooner than later. It’s moments like these that make me suddenly sit up a little straighter. Just little reminders of what’s possible.
Brian and I do a book study with some dear friends of ours, and we usually meet on Thursdays. The past few Thursday evenings I’ve left workouts, picked Brian up and we’ve hopped over to Chipotle (Chip-pottle, as Brian would pronounce it). Anyway, this past Thursday a family of three came in: a mom, a dad and a son…the couple could not have been much beyond early forties. They wheeled the mom in a wheelchair, and I asked Brian if he thought that would be me someday. I really don’t dwell here often—really, I don’t.
But it’s real, and it’s possible.
It reminds me of another song by I Am They: “Make a Way.” The song lyrics go like this:
Wherever you lead me, I know You won’t leave me
Wherever you call me, You will make a way
Wherever we’re going, I will be holding
To the promise you have made
You will make a way
You will make a way
So I ask the Lord that wherever He leads, He will prepare me for it.