Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Part That Won't Be Taken Away

Between bites of pizza, we were talking about Charlie getting skin cancer cut off his face. "He's not going to have any face left if they keep on."

Charlie, 80, had told me of growing up on an Arkansas farm, riding on the back of a tractor every summer long - barebacked, hatless, and sunscreen-free.


Martha pointed to the bump on her nose where she'd had a spot removed. "Now they can do a skin graft. It would look better, but I don't care. There was a time when it mattered, but not anymore," she said with her usual dignified grace. The golf course had its way with Martha's skin, she who must have once been a stunning beauty.


Our prayer list included a family who put their healthy 22 month old baby to bed one night and buried him days later: bacterial meningitus. The other twin keeps asking where he is.


A child, a spouse, a parent, savings, a job, our reputation, romance, vigor, beauty, health, friendship, any person or thing we value - all are in the category of "can be taken away". Sometimes it happens slowly, even imperceptibly. Other times it's sudden and shocking.
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The older sister liked getting things done; she took pride in opening her home to friends, feeding them well. Efficient, capable, and resourceful, she enjoyed the satisfaction of doing things the right way.

Not so with the younger sister. She only pretended to be interested when her sister rattled on about some new way to cook beans, that she'd almost saved enough money for new curtains. The younger sister did her chores as she should, but absentmindedly, wondering how her sister could be satisfied with such a life.

Both sisters were in agreement, however, about their new friend. How blessed they were to have grown so close. All the town was talking about him, trying to get next to him, but he was coming to THEIR home for dinner.

But they weren't prepared for as many guests as he brought with them. Martha ran next door to borrow some more plates and some bread, promising to repay the next day. She said a quick prayer that there would be enough food, that the stew would still taste good after she stretched it with some water.

When she returned, she saw her sister where she'd left her, sitting there doing nothing, acting like a guest instead of a hostess. Her irritation spilled out with, "Jesus! While Mary sits there listening to you, I'm left to get all this work done by myself. Tell her to help me."

He turned the tables on Martha, declaring her priorities wrong and her sister's right. He did it gently, though. "Martha, Martha, you're much too distracted and bothered. But really, there's only one thing that matters and Mary has learned what that is. And that won't be taken from her."