“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones” (Proverbs 17:22)
My third son, the one I call the Freshness after the Storm, the one with the Joy of the Lord, came by the house a few weeks ago. Somehow we got on the topic about where his dad and I would be buried. I had pretty much come to the conclusion that it couldn’t be in his hometown or mine. Four out of five sons had been born in this little Tennessee town. We’ve been here over 24 years.
The banter in this conversation continued. It wasn’t a serious conversation. I guess they’ve learned by now that there’s no telling what their mom will bring up. Each is always relieved that it’s just not about the day they were born. Those stories can clear a room in less than 5 seconds.
I told my son about a cemetery I’d found out in the country on a drive I’d taken. It was beautiful, out in the middle of nowhere with real head-stones – not plaques. It had character.
He told me he knew where it was. “It’s out there by Crazy George’s Bridge, Mom. I don’t know if I’d come out there to see you if you’re by Crazy George’s Bridge. It’s pretty creepy at night.”
At which point, I laughed and said, “Well, I wouldn’t want you to come visit me at night. That would be pretty creepy. Just come visit in the day time.”
Laughter is good medicine. I’ve laughed over that awhile. Yes, my boys recognize my humor is sometimes a bit awkward, but it is my humor. I find my own kind of joy in it.
This has been a year where I’ve needed to laugh. I’ve needed to strengthen my body, to heal from the pneumonia and the hysterectomy. To find the passion for the next 50 years.
I remember lying in my bed, the day before being admitted to the hospital, looking around, thinking, “I need to get rid of some of this stuff or my boys won’t know what’s important, what to keep” if something happened to me.
God didn’t let me dwell there. He kept reminding me of my mission statement he’d put on my heart a long time ago, “to show my boys how to grow old loving the Lord.” This mothering gig wasn’t over yet. I wasn’t to give up. This is one of the greatest gifts I can give my children.
(Five Minute Mark – but I just can’t stop there)
This same boy came by a few weeks later. He’d just moved out. I looked at him and said, “It doesn’t matter that you don’t know what you want to do with your life. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t found ‘the girl.’ None of that stuff matters if you pursue God. When you pursue God passionately, you will find yourself living what you are passionate about. Pursue God.”
Every time, I see him now, I say those words. The other day, I looked at him and said, “What am I going to say?”
“If you pursue God passionately, you will find yourself living what you are passionate about. Pursue God,” he answered, giving me a little saucy smile.
Soul healing comes from seed planting, whether it’s planting zinnia seeds, tomato and pepper seeds – or God seeds. While things like zinnia seed planting harvests blessing, planting the seeds of God things heals the body and soul so that we can fulfill the mission statement God gives us – and, in the fulfilling of it, God allows us our moments of our own little God-designed brand of humor.
(It’s been a while since I’ve sat long and written much, so thank you for reading to the end. Won’t you join me over at Kate’s Place for 5 Minute Friday? Sit down, pull over a cup of Wild Apple Ginger Tea, and see what everybody else is writing about the word . . . Heal.”