There are six of us in the hotel room, a motley crew, these women. Introverts and extroverts, farm girls and city dwellers, and even one who has a love affair with tweezers. And it’s late and there might be a bottle of wine (or two) on the nightstand and us, who love words and breathe stories, we are a-tellin’ them with raucous laughter and every now and then a hushed moment between Christ-followers.
Four of the crowd are mothers or wives of special needs people. I should just say special people … I know it, they know it … but I have to spell it out to tell you the whole story. And these women, let me tell you, they know Jesus the way the bleeding, afflicted woman knows Jesus, grasping at the tattered edge of His dusty robe in desperation. And healing swirls in the dust of the crowd and mingles with the blood and tears, the sleepless nights, and the academic fights.
I’m in awe a little, of how they know my Jesus.
And I don’t believe in pedestals because it’s just a little farther to fall, these dizzy heights of expectations and false idols.
But there is holy in this hotel room, holy when I get a little brave and ask her if I can ask the un-askable. And she says yes and I ask her if she loves him, and she says, “I love him … sometimes I don’t like him very much.” She speaks truth unguarded, no waste of words here.
Him being the man she promised to herself some odd years ago, who then suffered a brain injury that has made him not himself.
Then … we are speechless as her voice gains intensity and she folds herself unconsciously into the posture she assumes nightly as she takes her wheelchair-bound husband’s socks and shoes off. Holy when she tells us with rising passion how every night she bends down at his feet like the Savior who saves her, who washed the dust of a hard-traveled road from the cracked feet of His disciples.
And if this … this caring for the least of these – a lifetime of serving his father – will teach her son to cling to Jesus … if caring for their uncle will carry her nieces and nephews through the throng to a Savior who heals in the chaos of the crowds …
Then she will do it gladly.
Tears are dripping off my chin, I can’t look anywhere but at her face ablaze with the knowing of my Jesus, of her Jesus.
It is hushed, and it is holy in this hotel room.
This is my Allume. {Seems washing feet was a theme for me.} The holy in the hotel rooms. Getting to know these women. The privilege of being their friend. It’s not easy the life they live, and they wear it with such grace, although they would argue that point-us always having the knowledge of how broken we truly are. So they are not on pedestals, these ladies, maybe just bowed and bended at the feet of our Savior and I am changed for having met them there.
~M.
{Linking up with my soul-sisters at Imperfect Prose and #TellHisStory. And can I just say I got meet both of these women IRL this weekend and it was a joy.}
I had no idea there were 6 of you in the room…plus a baby! 🙂
No we weren’t all sleeping there, we were just hanging out on Saturday night.:) That would have been rough!
Molly. I loved this. And so thankful that I got that hug. Shine on, Sister.
Awesome Molly! Watching people cling to Jesus….watching people who really LOVE Him…is amazing…
You just shine so bright, Molly girl. What a privilege to have met you, and what a joy that you are my friend. xo
Y’all are in the holy trenches and will see the face of God more than the rest of us, I think. And you make me want to be better.
I love you, Molly.
Just beautiful. So glad I got to meet you and sweet Jack. I’ll be praying for you in the months ahead.
Hi Molly, we’re neighbors at the Allume link-up and I enjoyed reading your insights from the conference. The platform messages were excellent, but I must confess that those small hotel room conversations spoke more life into me.
Press on, sister!
Susan in VA 🙂
So grateful to be finding your words here, Molly. Such a gift to meet you. My heart resonates here – thanks for sharing, Molly.
It was so nice to meet you! Amazing how we all shared with one another last weekend.
It was a holy night… in laughter and tears.
Best bed buddy ever.
I carry you in my heart.
This is so beautiful and precious… and honoring and yes, holy!