Greater Love.

My grandmother Taylor has had five babies, lived on pennies, and survived 88? texas summers so yeah, she's strong. David and Lucy watched her daughters, sons-in-law, and husband mourn over the news of inevitable life threatening surgery while G ate a plateful of enchiladas and tacos. To die is gain for her. My grandfather gets quiet when he's sad. We all wear our emotions on our sleeve, its a family trait. Wrapped in his zebra robe, cuddled on his favorite brown recliner, the night before the surgery I thought he might weep. In the quiet of his room under the bamboo blanket he may have. Did it seem like ages to him before the doctor announced the outcome? She made it through even better than expected. Later that evening, David Lucy and I came to visit. Grandaddy T sat hunched in the quiet waiting room with his rangers cap and cane. "Were you nervous?" I asked him. "Yes, but I had a dream last night that the cancer was benign so I figure that is God telling me everything would be alright." The next day we came again and sat next to her hospital bed. She's so tall she had to scrunch up her legs to fit. Her eyes brightened when she saw Lucy. One day a long time ago, she looked at my baby eyes the same way. She told me she wanted to die. I thought about the moment that Lucy came out. There was this slimy, hairy, yellow thing that was the reward of twenty two hours of labor. G wanted her reward too. The day before, she sat in the shade of the patio awning with her husband of sixty years. All around her were his projects, a disassembled lawn mower, the church folding tables that needed repair, his next art project that he would make for all the grandkids. "I can't leave him", she thought. "What will happen to the house if I leave? What will happen to him if I leave?"

John 15:13

What it feels like when your baby cries uncontrollably!

For the 2nd time, Lucy cried without us being able to calm her quickly. We were driving back from Austin with our friends, Enrique and Lizeth Morris. Lucy had been in and out of the car seat the whole weekend and was tired of it. She loves to sit up and stand up so it was restricting her from her normal activity. We got her to sleep and she was doing good. She woke up, realized she was still in the car seat, and started wailing. Thinking back on it now, I laugh when I picture her face. Her entire face gets red except at the creases it gets bright white. Her eyes are forced shut by all the tears. Her mouth spreads as wide as she can get it which is pretty big. I didn't stop to think about the sound she makes but as I remember its like a fire alarm in intensity. David was driving and started to pull over. he said, let's get her out and play a bit and get her out! but all I heard was "get her out" and thought that he was mad at me so I started crying too! We stopped by these beautiful rows of corn and the sun was just setting. As soon as I put her over my shoulder she relaxed and started the shoulder hiccuping that always happens after a good cry. her face became splotchy red and we took turns looking at each other and crying. Then, out came the smiles! We danced and sang and examined the corn husks. There was one more cry later before she crashed for the night but it was this moment that I realized we had made it through. I realized that I had not prayed in so long. In this time of desperation, I was leaning against the car seat praying for Jesus to come soothe her. How long had it been since we had talked and now I cry out in need?
We offered to let Enrique and Lizeth go on without us and have our parents pick us up. I'm not sure I've ever experienced friendship quite like theirs. They said, they were with us, we are a unit, we are together for this trip. They both were concerned for Lucy and my tears and not their own fatigue and the prospect of a really late night unpacking and getting ready for work the next morning. They radiate the beauty and compassion of Christ.

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