There are times in my life, when I feel overwhelmed. And I let the overwhelming feeling seep into so many parts of me. It consumes me with self-pity, doubt, anger, resentment, nasty words, laziness. I can feel it wrapped around me, pulling me deeper. I get to a point where I am barely going through the motions to get by. My body moves as a marionette, being pulled and lifted, manipulated without my consent. But I’ve lost all effort to give consent. I’m watching from within as the world outside exists.
Then something kicks me. It tells me that this isn’t right, it isn’t what I want, it’s not what I need. It’s no good for anyone I come in contact with. I, myself, want to push the blame elsewhere. Coheres myself into accusing others for where I have allowed myself to go.
But it’s not like that anymore. My head doesn’t fill with nonsense of lies. It only tells me one thing. My head whispers it. My heart beats it. My body aches for it. The Holy Spirit moves me.
In all things. At all times. In every place.
Praise Him for changing me. Praise Him for fighting for our lives.
This past week, an old family friend of ours passed away. Her husband and her were close with my grandparents. Our extended families have stayed in each others lives throughout the years. Her grandkids and I went to youth group events & summer camps together. My sister and one of the granddaughters were even roommates for a while during college. When *Ruby passed, it was a loss to all who knew her. Thankfully, we all knew how ready she was to be with her Lord and how she truly spent a life loving others through Christ.
On Wednesday, my parents attended her funeral in Dallas. Later that day, my dad was telling me all sorts of great stories that everyone shared. He even shared a quite humorous one that he recalled, that I will someday share with her grandkids. But as he continued, the first story he told remained in my mind. I haven’t been able to forget it. To me, this was everything that embodied Ruby.
A few years ago, Ruby had a stroke and everyone wondered if she would make it. But she was a feisty lil one and refused to quite, fighting to regain her life back. Ruby had to relearn how to do many basic functions, in particular, speak. In her moments of frustration or tire from trying over and over, Ruby would struggle to get out one word. Four letters would come from her toilsome lips:
L – O – V – E
Love. She knew that when her mouth couldn’t do the work, when her hands were too shaky to write it, when everything she could manage was not enough — the one thing she knew to express… was Love. I can only hope to live a life of love as such a great woman as Ruby.
“Say love, say for me: Love”
*Names changed for privacy.