Aug
21
2020
Standing Invitation
Posted in Daily Living 6 Comments
I was walking in the parking lot.
A woman was coming towards me.
We both had our masks on, so our smiles were not apparent.
We passed each other.
Good morning, she said to me.
Good morning, I answered back.
As I passed her, I thought more about her greeting.
Thank you for saying that under your mask; it made my morning, I told her.
She smiled with her eyes.
We both had a spring in our step.
Her greeting meant everything.
Two strangers being kind to each other.
I thought of a sweet young mom I know and love.
I thought of her precious daughter, who is far wiser than her five years.
I thought of a conversation that this sweet young mother shared.
It was wonderful. It was hard. It was necessary.
She and her husband and two children were at the dinner table.
Her little son is not yet one-year-old.
He is much too little to understand the pandemic that has changed their lives.
However, her little five-year-old daughter is very much aware.
When the pandemic began, this sweet mama explained about the virus that is in the world.
Her explanation was fitting for a five-year-old.
This mama describes her little girl as a “real champ” through all of this.
Imagine having your fifth birthday right after everything shut down.
One particular night, this sweet mama started a conversation.
You know what I miss?
I miss taking you to Starbucks and talking to everyone we see.
I miss playing on the playground and making new friends, her daughter said.
It went back and forth like this for quite a while.
Her husband jumped in.
I miss taking you to get donuts every weekend.
This sweet mama looked deeply in her daughter’s eyes.
She wondered if listing the things they all missed was too hard on her.
Was it bringing to the surface all the things that have been lost and laid aside during this time?
What she saw in her daughter’s countenance surprised her.
This was not an exercise in futility.
With every grief she expressed her shoulders relaxed. Her voice filled up with eagerness. Hope. Healing…She has not brought it up again. It feels like she has not needed to because the freedom to air her grief into the room is a standing invitation. She needed to be heard and she needed us to join her in it. And we did.
What a wise mama.
A standing invitation to express grief.
Yes, little five-year-old girls grieve.
We are all grieving during this time.
I thought about the question that started the conversation.
You know what I miss?
I thought about the question as the stranger in the parking lot said, good morning, to me.
I made my own list, which is not exhaustive; not by a long shot.
I miss smiles.
I miss seeing a person’s whole face.
I miss hugs.
I miss breathing fresh air without it going through a mask first.
I miss going to coffee shops with friends, even if I never get coffee.
I miss seeing things clearly without having my glasses fog up all the time.
I miss teaching Bible study in my home.
I miss having young moms and their children over for tea.
I miss jumping in the car and running here and there without thinking.
I miss the freedom of rubbing my eyes or scratching my nose without fear.
I miss going to church inside with the entire church family.
I miss well stocked shelves in the grocery store.
I miss kindness, without reservation.
I miss casual conversations with a friend in the grocery store.
I miss stores without circles on the floor or plexiglass between me and someone else.
I miss the ordinary routines that I took for granted.
Who dares despise the day of small things… (Zechariah 4:10a)
We took ordinary things for granted.
We never realized how much we would miss the little things until the little things were gone.
Many of us are grieving in our own ways.
Perhaps, giving each other a standing invitation to voice that grief is a good idea.
So, begin.
Ask yourself the question.
Then ask someone else.
You know what I miss?
I bet your shoulders will relax.
I bet your weariness will be lifted a bit.
We all need space to say what often goes unsaid.
We all need that standing invitation.
Go ahead.
You know what I miss?
Beautifully written. So much I miss…still can’t understand why we can’t be inside a church (safely)
I know, Sherie.
So much of this does not make sense.
We press on in faith and trust.
Gina
I agree, Paula…we are so blessed in many ways
Amen, Sue!
Thank you Gina. We still believe God is good even while we grieve small losses. When my family feels losses we also say “first world problems” to acknowledge how much better off we still are than many places in the world
Paula,
This time is so hard for all of us.
Your family’s words puts much into perspective.
Gina