Wind beneath my Wings

Mother's Day reminds me of my very favorite person in the whole wide world. My Grandma Monica was a treasure in my life. She blessed me everytime we saw eachother. She always had a good word, an encouraging hug, an uplifting thought for me. We never had enough time together. She spited my sports time and study time and anything that kept us from being able to go over to her house. We sat around her death bed, unwittingly and she encouraged me to take posession of this marriage on her behalf. Don't miss this ride, her eyes seemed to say. She said, I told Gloria the same thing with Milton. Don't you dare, not marry that man, she encouraged. I thought I wouldn't make it, because she died three days before the wedding. I didn't understand that she didn't have a marriage and that was why she was so descriptive and deliberate to us of what we should do. We just went on with the plans, as she encouraged us to do. She said, I love Bethel, because you have 2 aisles to walk down, so you can take the picture coming in the door and then get to your seat before the bride, she spoke to Aunt Lorraine. I had almost forgotten that she had gone on before us, until I saw Aunt Lorraine standing there taking the picture. As she ran to her seat, I started sobbing. People probably thought it was a shotgun wedding how we carried on. Sister Paris encouraged me to smile and I enjoyed the beauty of the moment, in spite of my initial sob. We were grabbing the ring on the merry-go-round that my Grandma had missed so sorely in her life. Weeks later, I was still crying that I hadn't gotten to sing Wind beneath my Wings to my Grandma on her deathbed. So, I was sitting in the car crying about that loss and the Holy Spirit spoke to my soul and transformed that song into this one and turned my mourning through that Evvy song, right then and there. Everytime I hear that song, I imagine my Grandma and me dancing at the Wedding of the Lamb, which we both would have missed, had it not been for the sacrifice of a perfect Savior. Halleluia!

Bumping your head against Heaven

Often I have thought of falling to my knees in prayer in relationship to my short volleyball season. Falling on the knees over and over, to get in the proper position to hit the ball. The knees are always the humble position to be in. This morning, though I think of the jump. I think of the awe that was ours to see our coach leap and hover in the air, as though he had wings. He taught us to hover, somewhat. For the spike and for the aggressive points in Volleyball, most of those points are hit with feet off of the ground. Sometimes, we hit our head against the ball, inadvertantly. Sometimes, I believe that we hit our head against Heaven, in prayer and in purpose for God. The aggressive stances of the Church militant, may be with feet in the air. When we hit our head against Heaven, though, it may not knock us out, it may just wake us up. :)