Hello Hatters,
Last weekend, I was quite weepy. On Sunday morning, I woke up with marshmallow eyes. Puffy is a good look for a marshmallow on a s’more, but not for this writer’s face! When I sob with my whole body, the only residual effect shows up in my eyes. I wasn't in any shape to go and be with other people, so I stayed home from church. I’m normally eager to be with my friends, engage in the lessons, and take notes during the sermon. But I gave myself a pass. I needed grace to just be. And I really craved some warm food, so I went to a place down the street.
It was late for breakfast, but early for lunch. The first area of the restaurant was completely empty. The second area had only one other person. I sat down and ordered my favorite soup and entree. The soup smelled good and tasted yummy. I only finished a little of my entree, so I asked for a box. For this writer who wears many hats just like you, I’m not cooking much, so I like leftovers.
A feeling in my spirit prompted me speak to the other person. I said hI and that I hoped he was having a good day. He smiled and said it was ok. Father’s Day, yes? He nodded. I shared that this Father’s Day was hard since our family had just lost my husband. He acknowledged the hardship as he had lost his dad a couple of years ago. This morning, he said he just wanted some comforting noodles to sooth his soul. I told him I get it. I shared how puzzled I felt because just three days ago, I had delivered a speech on resilience. Today, I just wasn’t feeling it. He was so kind; this young man said to me, “Sometimes you just have to speak it into being before it happens. May God bless you and your family.” I thanked him and offered the same blessing back to him.
We talked a bit more and I told him that I write a blog. He asked me for the website. I didn't bring any of my business cards with me, so I borrowed a pen from the restaurant staff and I wrote it down for him. I handed him the piece of paper and told him to be sure to read the post on marbles. He smiled again and said, “God bless you.” I walked out and somehow my spirits were lifted. I had first spoken to offer a friendly hello. He blessed me with understanding, listening, and encouragement.
I shared a moment with someone else dealing with grief on Father’s Day. Honestly, I felt like a messenger crossed my path. I am blessed. I’m not alone. My Lord took my puffy marshmallow eyes for a meal and my soul was touched by a young person’s words. Nourishment comes in different forms. I was grateful for the encounter. He could have said he was fine and ended the conversation. But he shared his heart about his dad. Everyone has lost someone. While every grief path is different, empathy creates a common space for caring. My mellow met warm noodles. I was better.
Never underestimate vulnerability and kindness. It breaks the silence.
MT Penny