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Cynth'ya Lewis Reed, click here
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We cannot be strangers if we open up our minds to find uncommon lessons in the things we all observe everyday.
Ever hear the explanation that a coincidence is God choosing to be anonymous on your behalf? Well, God stepped in and taught me a lesson about how unplanned inconvenience can make one more appreciative of others.
As a few of you know, when it comes to male members of the family, whenver they disagree it''s best as a mother to sometimes just stay out of the way. After 30 years of marriage, even the most buddy-buddy fathers and son relationships can suffer from an overabundance of pride and testosterone gone wild.
The college kid says: I''m grown Dad. And what does Dad do? Reminds the "child" whose roof he is living beneath. And of course in turn the grown child rears his aura of independence because not only is he in college but working a part time job that allows him to put at least $5.00 worth of gasoline in the car that YOU, the mother, gave up so he''s have reliable transportation. Besides, you don''t want your son, regardless of how old he is, running around in a piece of abstract art that poses as "a real car".
(Like any typical old fashioned mom born in the mid-1950s, you sacrifice because you saw Wally and The Beev''s" mother do that on television on your favorite tv show. No way could you see that milk of human kindness stuff between Bugs Bunny and Yosemite Sam.)
But as the males continue hurling words of defiance in your home that recently forsook the designation of ''empty nest'', your own interference gets not only your feelings bruised, but your little finger on your left hand. The finger that all writers never miss until they look to see it now looks like it was a genetic defect that looks perfect on one of the Smurfs.
You chill your little smurfette of a digit. You wait, and pray. You''re too busy for medical care--others to take care of take priority, you know?
But at least your home is quite because the way you handle strife--remember, you''re a writer now-- is to write it out.
Not for one or two hours, but for four hours and fifteen minutes! You finger is aching but your heart hurts worse and you could care less. . . until you feel the pounding from your hand after your typing tirade has ceased.
Did you plan this? No. Does your insurance company want to pay for another x-ray (those of us lucky enough to have a quarter dollar''s worth). Of course not! But even in times of unexpected medical visits on yucky days where the sky is filled with hurricane residue-gone-Hoosier, there is still something to smile about.
The receptionist, Sarah, also a college student (but she''s a girl and more logical!) greeted me at the imaging center with a smile that the sun refused to provide that day. Then I met the woman who filed the exam with my insurance. She saw my name, and unknown to me at the time as to why, struck up a kinship like conversation.
There was typical "stranger" talk about injuries, the weather, perscriptions as we age, and maybe even might have had a mini-summit on gas prices and kids if we had more time.
She asked, "does it still look awful outside?" I replied, after thinking for a moment, "well, the view is great if you look beyond the clouds." She smiled at this oddball remark from what she may have then viewed as the atypical grouchy patient.
Well, as bladders do tend to fill for those of us in midlife at the most inopportune time, I asked where the restroom was located. She directed me to the place of peace.
(Admit it my sisters and brothers--men use toilets as target practice--for us, they become prayer closets and secret getaways.)
For the brief time I was in eliminatory solace, the inspiration for this piece (unknown to me at the time that I could type so well with 9 digits) came to me quickly. Clear as a bell the Spirit spoke and said:
"One cannot fully appreciate life''s beauty until one has fully experienced life''s unexpected pains." 11:28 a.m.( 08/26/05)
I told the woman behind the registration desk about my little revelation. She smiled back, finished having me sign the papers that would surely take the vacation bonus away from some insurance CEO for the month, and told me her first name.
Her last name was Templeton. Kind of like "solace in the temple." No wonder we had so much in common. Imagine that among total strangers on a cloudy day.
Ain''t it great how God works in mysterious ways in our cloudy everyday lives?
© 2005 cynth''ya lewis reed (born Cynthia Kaye Lewis).
All rights reserved.
(Story inspired by a wonderful medical professional I met today: Her full name?. . . . Cynthia Kaye Templeton -- Her first two names are spelled exactly the same as my birthname. Great image for an Imaging Center experience.)
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peace and love, Carole
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :D
Love Tinka