Devotion 307 - the corner

It had been months since I saw her.

I rounded the corner.  The corner I despise.

The corner has never done anything to me personally.  It is the way it is sloped.  It is the lowest point on my walk.  The area where any snowfall thickens and any rain puddles.  Thus, when winter comes, it is where snow becomes the slickest and rain the most frozen.  It is also where I tend to slip and occasionally, okay, more than occasionally, it is where I have fallen.

I had decided I would change my path and not walk around this corner.  I would then not slip.  I would then not fall.  But then, I would not see my neighbor lady.

I am not sure she knows she is my neighbor lady as we live quite far apart.  I wonder what makes a neighbor, is it the distance between two houses or is it the distance between two hearts. 

I remember the first time I saw her.  She opened her garage.  It was a frosty morning.  I had rounded my corner and there she was trying to navigate down her driveway.  She looked strong and agile, although advanced in age.  I wondered what made her walk so slowly.

I looked at her legs than her feet.  It was apparent even at a distance; she was wearing a lovely peignoir set that she had drawn tightly closed with her two arms braced against the wind.  On her feet were the sweetest little slippers I had ever seen, with high heels.  For all the world, I was sure I was seeing a white headed Laura Petry.

I quickened my step wanting to help her in some way.  What could be so important to drive her out of their home in frigid air wearing pajamas?

I spotted what lay in her path, not one but three newspapers.  I yelled.  I don’t like to yell outside in the early morning hours, but I yelled.  “I am coming.”  She turned her head and stopped as if she expected me there.  I informed her I had boots and I didn't want to see her fall.  I delivered her papers and she seemed as contented as a child on Christmas morning.  It warmed me much more than my hat, gloves or boots.

We began a tradition that day.  I round the corner and in my far glance I can see the garage going up and the papers waiting for both of us.

I hadn't seen her yet this winter, I was afraid something might have happened to my friend.  Then one morning, one especially slick morning, I was determined even if the garage didn't go up, I would lay those papers by the seam of the door.  Then I saw it.

First the crack of light from the slit of the door and then the radiance of a lit garage on a cold, dark morning.  I yelled, “Let me get those!”  And I could see her sweet smile.  I wanted to say I missed her.  I didn't realize until that moment I had.  She makes my morning.  It is a strange and beautiful thing knowing one is waited upon.  I walked away, all warm inside and once again thank God for her, my neighbor.

Strange how when one intends to bless, the blessing pours back.  It douses you from head to toe and blinds you to the actual effort.   I was reminded that I should dislike my corner a little less.  It is through trial one triumphs even if it is just picking up newspapers.

I remember just three short Christmases ago.  It was three years to the day.   My husband walked in my office and said, “We have it.”  By “it”, he meant our referral.

We sat, my hands shaking as we dialed the number to our agency and waited for an eternal set of moments for her picture to appear on our computer screen.  She was there, we were here, and the eternity began.  We would have her picture for Christmas.  I remember it well.  My heart and my daughter in China.

We filled our days knowing packing and travel were now in the near future.  We sent her a box, her Christmas gifts; although we were sure Christ was not yet part of her world.  And we waited.  Another call came.  We could send homemade blankets to hers and other orphanages.  We went that night and bought fabric;  the production line began.  We mailed and waited and then waited some more.  The days were long, the nights of prayer longer.

I remember so clearly opening up my email.  The blankets had arrived.  The agency that distributes relief to the orphanages sent a thank you to us and many parents and a list of all the orphanages that were blessed.

There was a link to click on a picture.  I did thinking perhaps I could show my children our blanket around some little child.

I looked at the boxes, I looked at the blankets.  No, no fabric looked familiar, but there was a little girl in the corner.  Her face perfectly round, her eyes focused on the boxes, her lips, the shape of my daughter’s.

I quickly scratched a note off.  Could this be our orphanage and our child?

The director kindly replied with a No.  She indicated these were photos taken at another place, another time, in a different age ranged room than my daughter.

I wanted to take her at her word, but I couldn't.  My daughter is not yet 2 I insisted and there is something about her.  My heart knew.  A birth mother knows the cry of her child.  The adoptive mother knows the eyes of hers.

Moments later, an apology, she had misread the notes from China, yes, this could very well be, the little girl in the corner.  The one I was waiting for.  The picture I could have never known would be mine of her life and her friends.  And for a moment, my darling girl was just around the corner of my heart instead of a half a world away.

God had blessed my waiting and a few little blankets tied together to “bless.”  Blessings had poured back, blinding me of any effort, any cost, any time.

How extraordinary that math.

I wonder how many corners we don’t go around or look around, how many blessings we miss, because our time is too short, our eyesight too blurred and our hands too full?

Do we wait for Him Beloved or does he wait for us.  Does He wait, holding the door open to shine the light on more or do we walk passed thinking we lack the courage, or the talent or the time? He assures us He will supply all of that; will we slip, will we fall?  Yes and yes, but it is He that picks us up, and we forget the pain because we are blinded by the blessing.

 I saw the face of Jesus in a little orphan girl

She was standing in the corner

on the other side of the world

And I heard the voice of Jesus

Gently whisper to my heart

didnt you say you wanted to find me?

Well, here i am, here you are.

So what now, what will you do with this treasure you've found?

I know I may not look like what you expected

But if you remember I said I would be

You found me

"What Now" words/music by steven curtis chapman

“For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.”Romans 8:24-25, NKJV.

 "Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall, but those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."Isaiah 40:30-31, NKJVI.