"Grief is strong medicine, life loves on." - (page 133, The Sacred Bridge by Anne Hillerman)
Sitting in the beauty shop waiting my turn, I spoke with the
lady sitting by me. She said, “you look
nice but sad." When I told her that I
am a recent widow, she smiled and asked, “Do you have a church?”, I replied, “Yes, Eastridge Presbyterian
Church for the past 50 years." Her reply
was “Then you know Jesus."
My answer
was not on the tip of my tongue and luckily my hairdresser was ready for
me. But, I thought, Do I Know
Jesus? I have learned of his life, his
teachings. He loved the little children, he turned water into wine, he fed the multitudes with loaves and fishes, he
healed the bleeding woman, he raised his friend from the dead, he helped the
blind to see and as a child, he talked to the priests in the temple. He also died on the cross and was risen from
the dead.
I could
have told that very nice and concerned lady all of this, but my faith is
mine. Sometimes, I find it hard to
understand, hard to define. As a widow
beginning to walk the lonely path, I feel his presence. I am reminded of the old hymn “In the
Garden”. He walks with me and he talks
with me and he tells me, I am his own.
Yes, maybe I can’t claim to know him, but he and I are friends. He, his
Father and the Holy Ghost.
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