You scratch my back…

I first heard the phrase “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours,” from my mother and at the time, I had no interest in scratching her back.  Few indulgences pleased her more than sitting on the couch, her shirt back pulled up modestly while I used her favorite brush to scratch her back.  As a twelve year old, I was beginning to grow uncomfortable with this routine, and I also knew that she knew that I didn’t want the favor returned.  When I asked her about it, she laughed and realized I was frightened of the literal outcome but what she meant was that if I did something nice for her, she’d do something nice for me.

Now we were in business.  This fed into my ‘acts of service’ love language.  I love to do things for others and am thrilled when asked and more thrilled when I’m able to come through for them.  So last week, when Pam called and needed my spinach quiche tomorrow by 9AM, I was on it.  I was honestly happy to squeeze that into my morning.

When I learned that my little loved one needed a flapper dress in two days, knowing full well I don’t have the skills to pull that off, I called my multi-talented friend Shawna for help.  The excitement in her voice said it all.  I wasn’t going to be borrowing a few measly strands of beads and a feather from her, she was envisioning glitz and glam…way beyond what I could even hope for.

I guess that’s why, when my husband came home from coffee with an older, wiser, mentor-friend and announced that his wife was praying for me, I was more than okay with it.  See, prayer has been coming hard lately and I’m old enough to know that I don’t have to stress about it.  Not only are His ways higher than mine, He knows my tangled thoughts…and is okay with it.  It’s only temporary, after all.    He knows I don’t love Him less; I’m just grappling with thoughts that feel logical but my logical mind questions that…. so, they do battle.  That’s exhausting stuff and someone else needs to take over for me and do the heavy lifting of sorting out my prayer needs.   The Holy Spirit, that great intercessor, even knew that I didn’t have the presence of mind to call that dear lady and ask her to pray on my behalf.  He arranged that for me.  Whew!  And I know that she delights in doing this for me – and others.

So, if you need a spinach quiche (or scrumptious cupcakes or a gooey pie), call me.  Something beautiful for home or body? Call Shawna.  For prayer?  you could call either of us girls, but either way, it’ll be just what you need, when you need it and with the Holy Spirit involved, way beyond what you could hope for.


Dipping my toes in

Dipping my toes in…

…to the world of blogging.  Thanks to inspiration from many women, I’ve decided to join them in this fun venture of writing, sharing thoughts, sharing our lives.