Texts: (between a friend & me)

Friend:  Dinner planned already?  Event at Chick-fil-A tonight.

Me:  Sounds fun, but we’re heading to my parents.

 

My Reflections:

We’re heading to Nana & Papa’s tonight & I offered to bring dinner.  Salmon cakes will make their shining debut (think crab cakes, but with salmon), fitting the “easy to chew” bill for Papa.

The plan is to make dinner, pack everything up, and have everything & everyone ready to roll as soon as J gets home from work.

Easy-peasy.

Except the dinner prep is taking longer than expected (salmon from a can looks far less appetizing than I’d imagined – there’s bones and goosh, and do you sort through it all or just dump it in?).  Little M is still sleeping and the other two are vying for my attention and the kitchen is a disaster and it’s obvious everything and everyone will NOT  be ready to roll anytime soon.  But the clock is ticking and we need to be ready to roll.  SOON.

And in the middle of the rush and mess, as squishy salmon cakes are being fried up and I’m stressing that there’s not enough time, J calls:

He’s going to be late, very much late; pressing matters at work that can’t be helped.  By the time he’ll get home and we travel the not-so-short distance to Nana’s & Papa’s there will barely be time to eat before we need to turn around and head home to get the boys to bed at a semi-reasonable hour.

Argh!

Big SIGH….

I could round up the boys and food and head there myself, but in this moment, that prospect seems no less than daunting.

I call Nana who lets Papa know and he says not to worry about it, we can do it another night.  But between their schedule and our’s we won’t be able to make it work for several nights from now.  I can hear Papa in the background saying something to the gist of No worries, it’s ok, and I know he’s being sincere; he & Nana understand and it truly is ok with them.

But inwardly, it’s not all ok for me.  It just seems like yet another good-intentioned attempt gone awry, yet another something out of my control.  After I get off the phone with Nana, the tears well up and I leave the boys to their cartoons and the kitchen to its mess.  I head out to the deck for a moment of sanity, to breathe and get some perspective.  And get my crap in order.

As I take my self-induced time-out, I check my email via my phone, and right there, like that, is an email waiting for me from a friend.  As I read it, the tears spill down my cheeks.  This couldn’t have come at a better time.

How did she know?

 

Email: (from a friend to me)

Hey Kari,

I know that you are going through so much right now, and I was praying about a way to bless you.  So, God put in my heart to buy you a massage from groupon.

I emailed J, cause I wanted to have it all set up for you, but I figured that it may be easier to coordinate with you, since you know your schedule best.

I offered to watch Little M too, while J has the two [big] boys.

Either you can make the appointment, or let me know what day/time works, and I can do it.

I pray that this blesses you, because you are an amazingly strong and beautiful woman, and you deserve a break.  xoxo

Love [your friend]

 

Email: (my response)

Oh my goodness – thank you!!!!  Seriously, you brought tears to my eyes w/ your sweetness.

I’ll figure out a time to go soon (yay!) and will let you know if we’ll need help w/ Little M (I’m sure J can manage, but I’ll leave that up to him.)

So looking forward to my massage time!  Words cannot express my thanks – so very, very nice of you!

Love, Kari

 

There’s no denying that a massage sounds heavenly right now, but it’s really not the prospect of a massage that means so much to me in this moment.  More than that, it’s the gesture; it’s all about the gesture.  This dear friend was thinking of me, praying for me, and had it on her heart to bless me, and then she did something about it; and God truly used her thoughtfulness in the very moment I was needing it.  She followed God’s lead and I was truly blessed, my heart encouraged, because of it.

With crap now pulled together, I head back inside.  Soon salmon cakes are eaten, kitchen is put back in order.  J eventually arrives home, boys get tucked in bed, another day is done, with rest to begin yet another.

We’ll have dinner with Papa another day.

It will be ok.