Don’t know about the rest of you, but I took great pleasure in kicking 2009 to the curb a few weeks ago! It was a hard year no matter how you slice it, and 2010 has been a welcome relief on many levels. For starters, The Ladies at the Powell Butte Christian Church are back from their Christmas hiatus, and that fact alone makes everything right in my world again because those ladies can pray like nobody’s business! And I’m here to testify that if you should find yourself in the cross hares of their mountain-moving prayer chain, you might want to get yourself saved, and be quick about it.
These, God-expectant, God-ready women are just like you and me, except for their halos. You know them too because there’s at least one on every street. And like the kindly ones in your neighborhood, these saints decided some years ago to do away with the man-made shackles of religiosity and approach the Throne of Grace with transparency and tenacity. And, while they were at it, why not do it together; discovering somewhere along the way that God-hungry lives are everywhere just waiting to be invited in. And, lo and behold, what splendid friends those searching souls become!
I’m not the only Mama who relaxes the moment I arrive, and even on the days when life is throwing up every road block to keep me away, I’m never sorry I knocked and entered in to huddle under the umbrella of warmth these truth-seeking women throw open to the weak and weary, the numb and angry, the hopeful and the hopeless. Others come with babies in tow and dark circles under their eyes, barely able to stifle a yawn during the hymn and announcements. But, true to their reputation, everyone leaves just a little more whole than when we walked in - a little prayer and Word-study, a song or two, lots of laughter and general whooping-it-up with the grannies. Well, not all The Ladies are grannies, but enough of them are to make me want to sit up straight and not use cuss words when I request prayer for my sub-par mothering skills or my terrible fear of all things medical. Not that they would care, but they make me want to grow up to be a steadfast mentor instead of a whiner and a grouch.
When those ladies prayed my Sister-in-Law through her cancer ordeal, all I could think to say was, “Hot d@*%, she’s cancer free!” I mean, “Hot diggity!” See? I just want to be like them! Help me to be like them Lord, all strong and suffused with grace. I bet they never yelled hysterically at their kids while driving a car and scowling into the rearview mirror…or maybe they did...
And maybe, if I hang around The Ladies long enough, their hard-earned tenderness will rub off on me, too. Because, let’s face it, none of us are getting off this life path without some difficulty and suffering, and it will absolutely change us all. We’ll either become bitter or better.
So, I’ll never stop running, like a woman with her hair on fire, to be with The Ladies at the church! In hopes that I, too, can one day be available to a living heart that simply longs to be touched by the better angels of our nature. And if that young Mother shares her deepest, most humiliating parenting faux pas, I’ll just smile and let her think that I, too, probably never ever acted like a complete idiot in all my mothering days either. And then, I’ll casually adjust my crooked halo when she’s not looking.
