I am missing Grama right now. The feisty Frances Hughes of old. The one that would yell one minute and insist on a hug the next. The Grama who had enough patience to teach montessori school, but couldn't stand the sound of children shuffling of feet. The one who would want you to sit and watch Wheel of Fortune with her only so she could be completely irritated with you if you beat her to the punchline. The one who would embarrass you like none other and then encourage you in your walk with Christ.
I've been thinking of prayer lately. and when I say lately... I really mean the last few years. Prayer is an amazing thing, answered or not. Makes me think about how God works differently with each person, unique as each relationship is. I've been thinking about how He compels me to pray with people. Makes my heart race with excitement, I'm sure my ears turn red, or at least they feel like they do, feel pretty much like the biggest yahoo and then I approach whomever it is. I ask if I may pray with said person(s), don't think I've ever been turned down. After all is said and done... there's a peace (for me anyway). God's peace.
When it comes down to it... I never stopped to consider that God may be using me in this capacity. Like my cooking for NS- which is self evident, is this another expression of Him? So often, in my lows, I wonder how He can use me. What do I have to offer when I'm such an incredible mess? When it comes down to it, no matter a mess or not, my heart truly is His... and He can use this dysfunctional being. hmmmmm.....
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