I Wait Tables Sometimes...

I wait tables sometimes...

As I approached the table I noticed a sweet gray haired woman and across from her sat her daughter, going over the menu with her. As the beautiful mother slowly gave me her order, the daughter looked at her lovingly and helped her with her remember her "usual". She was kind and patient and soft with her. 

For the next hour I watched their interaction, how they seemed to enjoy their time in these small moments. 

I noticed a lump in my throat as I envied them in this moment, and I wished I had one more lunch with gwennie ... I wanted to ask her if she asked her mom the questions I put off asking mine. I thought there was plenty of time to learn to make her fudge, and I didn't need to know cuz she would always be here to make it...more questions about her childhood ;her loves and her losses, how she just was love and forgiveness; her secret for being spunky and strong yet  amazingly compassionate; how she saw the good in everyone and loved unconditionally, how life's trials didn't leave her bitter... How she was soft and sweet yet fiercely protected and loved her family (and the Jazz). Most importantly I hope she asked her mom how to go on without her here, how life would ever be ok again, how to put one foot in front of the other with her head held high in a world where the person who holds your feet to the earth and holds you up is gone. 

Instead as I handed them boxes, I swallowed and took a deep breath and with tears in my eyes I said... I'm gonna say this quick so I don't cry, I lost my mom 3 years ago and you coming in today blessed me to see the sweet relationship you have... Thanks for bringing your mom to lunch today so I could witness this love again. The daughters eyes teared up and we shared knowing looks ... I am blessed in these little moments,  like when I think I'm just serving pizza, that I see the miracles the sparks of love  of this life. 

His Dream is bigger than my own...

As I sip chicken noodle soup for what feels like the umteenth time in almost 3 weeks, I feel frustrated and tired. As I've sat on my pity pot through the coughing and crying... I give myself this one last day to mourn my sickness...

Then I realize... looking around at Kleenex's, water bottles, oils and tea cups... I must need this time to rest, to gather my strength because great, beautiful things are coming...

I feel it in my soul, I smell it in the air, I hear it in the angel whispers in my ear...

The call of my purpose rings clear, at times the dream feels too big, too much... 

But as I sit here in the moment reserving the little energy I have... I breathe a deep breath, I soak it in, the realization that I'm ready... That I surrender, I will show up as Big as God needs me to... that I lean into being the woman I was meant to be...I embrace the work I was meant to do... that God's dream for me is more than I can  ever dream alone... As I rest, I close my eyes and dream...knowing when I awake the dream becomes my purpose, my work, my destiny.