All of you know that our family has recently moved from Ohio back to Indiana. I have struggled with the move as much, if not more, than the kids. I LOVED our community, church, and the incredible friends that God blessed us with there. However, Chris and I really felt sure that we were meant to move back to Indiana after the loss of his dad. Sometimes doing the right thing doesn't FEEL like the right thing.
I still long to walk down the hall at church and hear someone say, "Here come the Grandstaffs!" There is something to be said for that sort of familiarity. (This is a picture of our MOPS Steering team - it includes some of the cool ladies I'm talking about here.) The friendships I developed there with core group of ladies was like something I've only been blessed with a few times in my life. It wasn't that superficial stuff - you know, the hi, how are you? oh fine. good sort of thing. I mean if you felt like, crying, there was someone to cry with you and grap the kleenex. If you were so happy you would burst - there was definitely more than one person who would celebrate until it was old with you. There was even that period when I was suffering from post partum depression and I stopped answering my phone. I let my kids fend for themselves because I could get up off the floor. I felt like I had tapped out my friends with all of my needs near the end of my pregnancy with Riley and I couldn't ask for more help. Do you know what they did? They banged on my door. Yep. They showed up because they knew there was something wrong and when I answered the door in my four-day old outfit, funky hair, and tear streaked face - they picked up the pieces and showed me that there was no such thing as "tapped out" when it came to love.
There were a few times when one of our children was either critically ill, in need of stitches, or various other emergencies, and there were multiple people I could and did call. All I needed to say was I need you...and they would be on their way to pick up the rest of the kids. Not only did they take them, but they fed, played with, and truly loved them while they had them! And then at least one of the "circle" of friends (usually many more than one) would show up at the hospital to sit with us or bring us chocolate and caffiene. Do you know how good it was to have someone sit with my sick newborn long enough for me to take a shower, and not have to rush? Or what it was like to have the pastor of our large church come and take charge with the desk nurse so that we could get seen quicker in the ER? Or how about the lady from our church who worked at the Children's Hospital and checked on us twice each shift to make sure that we didn't need anything. And that friend who would frequently stop by the house just to grab a hug, or would leave a bag of food on the porch, or a treat for the kids. That is what a servant looks like. Friendship with workboots on.
I'm so thankful for those people. We are blessed beyond measure to be sure. I hope I can do more than think back kindly on that sort of love, but also begin to give that to the new people I meet here in my new home.
I still long to walk down the hall at church and hear someone say, "Here come the Grandstaffs!" There is something to be said for that sort of familiarity. (This is a picture of our MOPS Steering team - it includes some of the cool ladies I'm talking about here.) The friendships I developed there with core group of ladies was like something I've only been blessed with a few times in my life. It wasn't that superficial stuff - you know, the hi, how are you? oh fine. good sort of thing. I mean if you felt like, crying, there was someone to cry with you and grap the kleenex. If you were so happy you would burst - there was definitely more than one person who would celebrate until it was old with you. There was even that period when I was suffering from post partum depression and I stopped answering my phone. I let my kids fend for themselves because I could get up off the floor. I felt like I had tapped out my friends with all of my needs near the end of my pregnancy with Riley and I couldn't ask for more help. Do you know what they did? They banged on my door. Yep. They showed up because they knew there was something wrong and when I answered the door in my four-day old outfit, funky hair, and tear streaked face - they picked up the pieces and showed me that there was no such thing as "tapped out" when it came to love.
There were a few times when one of our children was either critically ill, in need of stitches, or various other emergencies, and there were multiple people I could and did call. All I needed to say was I need you...and they would be on their way to pick up the rest of the kids. Not only did they take them, but they fed, played with, and truly loved them while they had them! And then at least one of the "circle" of friends (usually many more than one) would show up at the hospital to sit with us or bring us chocolate and caffiene. Do you know how good it was to have someone sit with my sick newborn long enough for me to take a shower, and not have to rush? Or what it was like to have the pastor of our large church come and take charge with the desk nurse so that we could get seen quicker in the ER? Or how about the lady from our church who worked at the Children's Hospital and checked on us twice each shift to make sure that we didn't need anything. And that friend who would frequently stop by the house just to grab a hug, or would leave a bag of food on the porch, or a treat for the kids. That is what a servant looks like. Friendship with workboots on.
I'm so thankful for those people. We are blessed beyond measure to be sure. I hope I can do more than think back kindly on that sort of love, but also begin to give that to the new people I meet here in my new home.
1 comment:
Christina,
I read this with tears running down my face. You are that friend who is the whole package. I miss you terribly!
Love,
B
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