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Topic: Endurance (03/22/04)
TITLE: Mustard Seed verses Mountain By LINDA GERMAIN 03/26/04 |
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Aunt Martha had intelligence and godly wisdom, but she was still young enough to teach me some important kid type lessons, like how to pop chewing gum, pin curl your hair, and sing country music with a twang. There was a sweetness in her core that flowed right out through infectious giggles. This was pure tonic.
At nineteen, I was privileged to spend some time in the old-fashioned boarding house like home where she and her family lived with Granny. The dishes never seemed to match but there was always good garden food and an open invitation to one and all to "grab a plate and sit down."
She was the first to laugh at her own imperfections, which made others unafraid to expose human flaws. Even though she did not subscribe to gossip or mean spiritedness, it was still wise to remember when you agreed to an outing with her that you were at risk for at least one "Lucy and Ethel" moment.
One morning, as I meandered into the kitchen wearing an old robe which wrapped around me about twice, she dashed by with her keys and yelled, " Hey, come on and keep me company while I take the kids to school."
I looked down at my red furry slippers and then out at a beginning snow and started to object, but was persuaded in quick order. She told me to take her husband's heavy jacket off the peg and jump in the car. "We won't be gone but just a few minutes."
"Want to go for a ride?" I asked my new kitten as I scooped him up on the way out the door.
Like a comedy sketch writing itself, events were clicking into position, needing only a Rube Goldberg nudge to begin a chain reaction. We did not have to wait long for that script.
Our mission accomplished, the old, stubborn mule of a car heaved an uncooperative sigh and refused to budge. The two miles back home might as well have been a hundred! This was before cell phones. There was only one choice.
Both of our early morning garbs were glaring examples of the "don't list" in a famous fashion magazine. The unexpected parade down that white covered road seemed endless. Snow stuck to our hair and eyelashes, but it did not make us what we wanted most to be: invisible. Naturally, like ecstatic escapees from the funny farm, we were laughing hysterically.
Poor kitty insisted on sticking his head out above the jacket zipper. That was probably so he could get a first hand view of startled drivers. We were glad he couldn't talk. Finally, the embarrassing hike ended back in the warmth and safety of the kitchen where we collapsed in heaps of freezing wet giggles and meows.
Fast forward to 1995. We were about to find out the true depth and width of my mother's baby sister. A strange lump discovered in her neck was the epitome of rain falling on the just and the unjust. She had Lymphoma. The periodic hundred mile trips for cancer treatment were tedious, and those debilitating procedures caused horrific sickness. She never murmured or complained. At a family reunion that October, relatives from all parts of the country came, hoping this was not a farewell event in her honor.
Though not a great fan of worldly possessions, she did have a decided weakness for pretty shoes and did not want to wear comfortable slip-ons to the official gathering of the relatives .She insisted on donning her gorgeous new pumps. Shrouded in pain and fever from chemotherapy blistering and with a white blood count almost too low to be compatible with life, she could not stand up, so what would it hurt?
Our queen of endurance, shod like a thoroughbred, and crowned with her new wig, held court from her recliner throne. Loved ones took turns sitting by her side, holding a fragile bruised hand and sharing fond remembrances. No one expected her to live until Christmas.No one but the lady-in-waiting, the patient herself!
Her Christian physician began to lose hope when the x-rays clearly showed evidence of cancer in her liver and bones. There was nothing else medicine could offer. In humbleness and obedience she continued to bathe in God's Word and to praise our Lord and Savior. " I do not say the disease is NOT there. I do say I reject it. Jesus said by his stripes we were healed. I stand on that as a promise." In her weakness, she was strong,
This painfully thin, bald, extremely ill, shadow of a woman, bravely swimming through excruciating suffering, was a miracle in progress. She had an awesome perseverance provided by the Holy Spirit. She believed. She simply believed.
We left the reunion, so sad about her condition, yet uplifted by her attitude. In a few months the big city doctor was totally stunned by her new test results. Amazingly, he could find no evidence of cancer in bones, liver, or anywhere else. He seemed perfectly happy to call her his "miracle woman." She gave God the glory and got back to the business of life.
This past October, she and the cute ex-soldier who still loves her madly, drove 500 miles to visit us. Arrayed in her usual joy, she was a beautiful picture of radiant health. Her tender heart remains filled with love for God and her family and she continues to stumble into amusing adventures.
Sunday, I sat beside her in church, wishing we lived closer and remembering her inspirational triumph. Suddenly, she leaned over and whispered to me, "I love your shoes."