by Tami Watts, author of The Wyoming Try
Yesterday, I came upon a charming little story about a mailman delivering mail on a water route in coastal Alabama. Here is a snippet of it told by the mailman’s son:
One day Dad was busy picking out mail with one hand and steering the boat with his other hand. When he reached over to put the mail in the mailbox, he mistakenly put it in the yawning mouth of a sleepy alligator! Needless to say, they were both surprised.
The startled alligator bit down on the mail, but Dad was able to pull it back out. That day the Myrick family received mail that was a little chewed and torn. Dad wrote a quick note to the Myricks explaining the chewed-up mail and said he was sorry. After the mail was in the box, both Dad and the alligator slunk off sheepishly in opposite directions.
A Special Discovery
Have you heard of this incident? I had not until yesterday when I was going through my husband Randy’s medical binder where he kept a record of his frequent blood counts, tracked his miles to and from the oncology center, and wrote the days of the week in Spanish because he wanted to learn that language with our daughter. Tucked inside his binder was this little scenario. It was part of the book project Randy had hinted about to our children and me.
I wish he had finished the story before he took his last breath in the Denver ICU room six short months ago. Not only did we wish to know how the story turned out and find out why the mailman’s son and Eddy the Bear still needed to help Kenny the Koala find his houseboat, but the kids and I longed to be a loving family with him.
Impacted
Last week my son John (20) expressed that being without Dad is like being without a thumb; the loss is impactful, and it will require more time to adapt.
How true. I am yet to slip into bed and not think that the other side is “Randy’s side” where he enjoyed reading children’s detective stories by booklight, so he would not disturb my sleep. Without him, something is missing, and it is larger than one of the characters in my late husband’s story, Kenny, missing his houseboat.
Kenny, Eddy, and the Alligator
Kenny is our son John’s koala who joined our family years ago one Christmas when Randy was undergoing his first bone marrow transplant in Denver. Randy loved hearing me use my special voice for this koala, the attention-seeking, lovable “bear”. Now I know why Randy had a twinkle in his eye when he mentioned his book project The Case of the Missing House. He wanted to make Kenny a special character in his book.
Now I too know why Randy insisted on our daughter, Marcelle, (22) having an Eddy the Bear and an alligator for her seventeenth birthday. Eddy was to be the boy’s assistant detective and the alligator, well, you know the alligator’s part (from the story above).
Benefits of Being Childlike
I had prayed to have a “Mr. Rogers” for a husband, someone who was calm, childlike, and accepting of my “talking” for animals. God sent me Randy who allowed me to remain a child at heart as he was that way himself.
Little did I know how much our childlike approach to life would help my family and me be happy, peaceful, and trusting through fourteen years of Randy’s demanding leukemia. As Randy’s medical binder reflects, our lives were influenced by his never-ending blood tests and ongoing treatments both in and out of state.
Now that the kids and I are without him, it is important that we remain childlike. As being childlike helped us have a good life in spite of Randy having cancer, it will help us continue to get through the predictable and unpredictable times of grief.
Lavished With Love
When Randy and I were newlyweds, thirty-plus years ago, I had memorized
1 John 3:1. With my slight modification, it goes like this: “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called children of God, and that is who we are.”
This verse became a greeting I gave to a mail lady who handled the mail where I attended college and worked as a secretary for five years. (Hope she didn’t have any alligator issues.) Saying it so often to her, she began to say it with me. It became our “high five”.
Satisfied
Last night my son John played a song for me, Psalm 90 (Satisfy Us with Your Love) by Shane & Shane. As the words washed over me, this line stood out: “Before our hearts forget all your goodness, satisfy us with your love.”
Being one who likes to study root words, I thought of the root meaning for satisfy; it means enough. To me, that seems measured rather than lavishly supplied. So, why does our Heavenly Father lavish His love on us when He could measure it out? I believe it is because God knows we are prone to forget about His goodness when we are facing trials.
The Power of Love
In the past nine months, I have not only lost my husband but also five other family members. This year I have experienced immense sadness and anger. In these times, I have been grateful that God’s love has been more powerful than these emotions. God’s love reminded me of His goodness and rescued me from the stronghold of devastation.
Are you going through a trial? Has grief been visiting you? If so, I encourage you to be childlike and responsive to the Heavenly Father‘s love. He and His love are real.
“High Five” to you.
