For
no good reason other than because He is good and crazy, God gave me opportunity
to speak in front of a couple dozen mothers of preschoolers on the topic of
simplicity. Share my journey with some precious mommas who, like me, are
desperate for any blessed moment that does not involve the whining crying
tantrums of our offspring in the cereal aisle of Kroger. Sure, why not.
And
so that’s how I found myself standing clam-palmed and rashy in front of a few
round tables of darling mommas in the middle of November.
I
don’t think it hit me that what I had been asked to do was quite unfair in all
ways until I sat at one of those round tables half-listening to their sweet tender
prayers, and the one, I’m sure her name was Claire but it might have only
started with a C, asked for prayer because that very afternoon she was going in for
an ultrasound to well, we pray, determine that a lump on her breast is no more
than just that, a lump.
And
Claire, I’m sure her name was Claire, she just won’t leave me alone in my head
because I sat next to her as she told those ladies, “I’m awesome at avoiding.
But I’m sure it’s nothing.”
And
now it was my turn to stand up and blab on and on about my journey of
simplifying life? Oh, okay, Claire might find out she has cancer today, but in
the meantime, put that Ali girl up there a few weeks before Christmas so that
she can spoil our poinsettia fundraiser and santa shopping sprees with her Grinch-ass
message about finding joy in living with less.
Because
that’s fair.
Dammit,
why was I there?
And
I don’t know. I don’t know. But I was. And I did. And I have no damn clue
whether or not it made one stinkin’ difference in the whole world. In my little
selfish insecure igloo I pray that if I see any of them out in public, at
Target with their red cart full of Christmas cheer, they won’t shoot the messenger
who was asked to speak on that topic at this time.
Because
the only thing I really care about since sitting at that table are the damn results of that
ultrasound. And Claire, I really think her name was Claire, I haven't stop praying
for ya.
*Claire update: (And yes, her name really is Claire!) She connected with me via facebook, and praise Jesus, her ultrasound gave the radiologist no concern. I am stupid dupid humbled. When I walked into that room of MOPS mommas I had no idea that I would be entering such a privileged space. Thank you, Lord.
*Claire update: (And yes, her name really is Claire!) She connected with me via facebook, and praise Jesus, her ultrasound gave the radiologist no concern. I am stupid dupid humbled. When I walked into that room of MOPS mommas I had no idea that I would be entering such a privileged space. Thank you, Lord.

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