THE NAMELESS WOMAN


Grab yourself a cup of coffee, find a cozy chair, and sit back and enjoy this one!  I give you yet another amazing post from my daughter, Jessica.  This is one of my favorites!  Beautiful!   Enjoy…anita
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Curled beneath a heavy, woolen blanket, her flesh pressed hard against the cool wall; listening to the drops fall against the pane, she inhales as much as her frail lungs will allow, savoring the sweet aroma.  Clinching the blanket tighter against her chest… she remembers…remembers days gone by.  Dark clouds hover with sadness.  Foreboding spirits take residence within.  As tears fall from the heavens… tears fall from her pale, worn face…saturating the blanket wrapped around her corpse like frame.  “Does He see me?”  She wonders.  Fear and doubt rage within her soul.  Skin covered bone slowly reaches for the cup of tea by her side.  I wince as she presses it to her lips; such agony.  How long must she suffer?  With eyes tightly clinched – engulfed in this torment – hope seems lost.  Then she hears…birds chirping their praises to her Savior.  An empty heart begins to flutter as she lifts her voice to join the sparrow choir.  Reaching out for hope she creaks open the tattered pages of life.  Eyes black as night, spill, as she drinks words from the page.  Fear and doubt surrender and peace takes their place.  “It won’t be long now,”  she whispers.  I watch in amazement as a smile spreads her face and deep sunken eyes twinkle with a glimmer of hope.  Rays  of sunlight dance upon her now smooth head.  She wasn’t always like this.  She was once beautiful…adorned with long chestnut locks…radiant, chocolate, brown eyes that ran deep with compassion and love.  Busy, independent and successful she rushed through the moments of life.  Only in her twenties – she had plenty of time.  Or so she thought.  Cancer had done it’s best to destroy: stretching it’s death fingers through every inch of flesh, ripping away at her soul.  Stripping her of everything – or so it tried, but the ONE who lives in her would not allow.  For in her weakness, her soul shone brighter than ever before.  Others watch in awe as she trusts Him through this storm.  A faith rarely seen – even the most religious stop to consider their hearts.  Her frame back-dropped by the landscape…lit.. as brilliant hues stretch the sky.  God’s promise.  I smile.  For I have seen this promise too.

At least this is how I imagine her to be…

Two years ago, my husband bought a storage shed to resell and make some extra money.  Inside were the contents of this woman’s life.  There was no name.  Only a face gracing pictures.  Memories discarded.  As I carried one box after another into my kitchen…rummaging through her belongings, I was overwhelmed with emotion, my heart grew heavy.  Sitting on my kitchen floor I spread her things before me.  I wanted to see, to understand, who this young lady is or was.  Her future looked bleak.  Unfolding memories one after the other – I stop.  I wonder – when my time comes will anyone care to find out who I was?  Smiley faces drawn by my children, love notes, a picture that only Jesus and I know the meaning of – will it speak of who I was or will it all be swept away without any thought.  What legacy will I leave?  Those who have crossed my path: are they better for the threads I have woven through their lives, or will they be joyful at my passing?

I don’t know why her memory haunts me so.  I do not know if she overcame the illness that ravished her body with excruciating pain…or if she walked through the valley of shadow and death.  I do know that God used this woman’s life to make an impact on my own.  A reminder to not take the simple treasures of life for granted, for we do not know what the next moment holds.  I wish my heart would hold onto this truth, like it did that day cross-legged on my kitchen floor but my heart is foolish.  How many days are filled with my agenda stomping upon those dearest to me.  Humbled by this thought – I ask for forgiveness once again.  As long as I draw breath I will be plagued with this selfish heart but I pray that God would mold it each day to be more like His.  That I would never stop learning, listening, even if the lesson comes through the discarded belongings of a soul never met.  I think of her at times.  I wonder her end.  I pray for her and her family.  I pray for my family and all of you.  Other times I forget the lesson…

Today, words of death penetrated the heart of my Jonah.  Words spilled from my own lips.  Filled with impatience and anger I became a fool.  As the earth drank… the house still…and I, wiping up messes from ‘careless’ children… her memory welled within my soul…my heart grew heavy and I could not forget.  It was I, that had been careless.  Instead of dirty counter-tops I must now wipe the bleeding wounds that I have caused.  The simple words “I’m sorry” don’t seem enough when you look into the wounded eyes of your child but it is all I can offer.  For once a word is spoken it can not be taken back no matter how my heart aches to do that very thing.  My only hope is God’s grace and forgiveness, to guard my mouth and heal the wounds that I have selfishly inflicted.

I was reminded today – and I humbly remind you – to love life right where you are – messes and all…

An unexpected woman entered my home a few years ago…I do not know her name…I do not know her end.  But God used her life to teach me priceless lessons that I must not forget.

Until then…

Jessie
By:  Jessica Lutz

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