Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Bumps, Potholes, With a Forecast of Sanity


Dear God,

It's me, your cracked pot!  “How did your son Jesus minister to all the people and stay sane?”

After spending the day today with a much younger friend going through some issues, I went to visit another friend in a nursing home.  The nursing home requires a code to get in and a code to get out.  No clear instructions on how to get in were in sight but a buzzer was . . . so . . .  I pushed it!  A resident, locked inside, pointed through the glass door to where the entry code was written!  Reminded me of a time when a prison inmate unlocked a meeting room door with a credit card!  Both a little unnerving.

Back to my friend in the nursing home, God . . . I’ve known her for 30 years but you’ve known since before she was even conceived.  She is my age, actually 5 months younger.  I found her room and spoke her name as I peeked around a curtain.  Knowing what I would see did not prepare me for the person I saw.  At 5'6" and 105 lbs, a black turban covered her head and black encircled her eyes.  She told me she will not be able to go back to her apartment but will have to go to an assisted living facility after an upcoming surgery.  Knowing her and her sister’s history and knowing that her parents are relatively healthy at ages 95 and 92, I struggle to understand.  After 40 minutes, I prayed with her . . . for your strength and comfort . . . and headed out of the nursing home.  Praise to you God!  My memory did not fail me . . . I remembered the exit code!

This evening I headed to Barnes & Noble for some respite time with a book and a non-fat caffe latte.  It was quiet in the café . . . only about 3 or 4 of us enjoying a quiet cup of something . . . a great atmosphere for reading.  But, after reading a paragraph or two in my book, I found myself surfing face book because I just could not focus.  About this time, a tall, large man walks through the café.  As he passes my table, I hear him quietly mumbling to himself with an occasional smirk and under-his-breath laugh.  He gets dessert and a drink and then sits about 3 tables behind me . . . still quietly mumbling.  Forgive me God, but my soul’s sanity was hanging by a thread and I decided to leave. 


My heart is heavy tonight, Lord, for my two friends and for the multitudes of hurting people!  

So, Father God, how did Jesus do it?

My child . . . “While it was still night, way before dawn, he got up and went out to a secluded spot and prayed.”  Mark 1:35 Message Bible

OK . . . I pray . . . but I’m still working on the “way before dawn” part!   I will continue to be there for my two friends, embracing them with your love . . . your grace . . . and your mercy.

It's been a bumpy day with potholes but a forecast of grace and mercy and sanity for tomorrow!  Sounds like a good movie or book!   

Love you back, God,


Your cracked pot . . .
 www.potterandtheclay-hiatt.blogspot.com/
in need of dirt therapy . . .
so please hurry . . . 
send sunshine and warm temps! 
Thank you :-)




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