Words aren't all they're cracked up to be...

Wow, maybe my life DOES revolve around school, even though I haven't been involved in one for almost seven years. Recently I've had a former student and a former school family (especially the father) as well as a former classmate on my mind and in my prayers a LOT. I've also had on my mind that words just aren't all they're cracked up to be. (I know my English Comp students will be shocked if they read that last sentence!) All of the wonderful words in the wide world of vocabulary (which I have extolled, of course!) fail when sharing another's grief or joy.

My brother Andy called Monday to tell me about a former student's wife passing away last Friday. So I've been remembering my friendship with him--various conversations we had, random acts of kindness with which he blessed me, how special he made me feel watching out for my safety and needs with my poor car, etc. But I was his teacher (not his mother!), and he's a grown man now, for pity's sake, so how do I properly put into words that just because the classroom years are over and we've not been in contact for a long time (although I did see him for a few minutes this past summer) doesn't mean the caring is over. He will always be in my heart--he was my student, my "kid"! Time doesn't change that. He was safe in our friendship then; he would be safe in that friendship now. Since I can't be there for him, I thought I would call and send a card. Therein is the problem: words. I can't distill into words what I have prayed, how much I care. I can cry, but I can't think of any words. Somehow though, I think if I can get past the busy signal, maybe the words will come. But I admit that every time I hear the beep - beep - beep, I sigh in relief. I've selected a card and written some of my thoughts and prayers there, but when I read it over, it doesn't say what I wanted it to say and I suddenly have a new definition for "discard." But it's my best attempt, so I send it... surely he will understand at least part of what I can't seem to say.

I've been logging in to a friend's blog several times a day over the past week or so. She's been posting updates there of her mother-in-law who was not that long ago diagnosed with cancer. Over the past 10+ years, Ken & I have shared lots of laughs and tears in our hours and hours of visiting with this family who used to be part of the school where I worked. We have often chuckled because Ken and the mom think so much alike, and I and the dad think so much alike. (It's a crazy wonderful friendship! :)) I care about each one of the family members dealing with the death of their mother/mother-in-law/grandma, but, because of the special connections we have made over the years and having lost a mother to cancer myself, I have identified especially with the dad. And I experience the same wordlessness each time I read a new update. In many ways, I've been where he is. During many inevitable late-night discussions, I've expressed a broad range of opinions, emotions and convictions. (Oh, that words were lacking then!) When I read the updates on the blog, however, I can cry, but I can't think of any words. Every day when I click to go to the blog, I know I am one day nearer to reading that her mother-in-law has gone to be with the Lord, and I already know what will happen when we see our friends: I will cry, but I won't be able to think of any words to say. Somehow tho, I hope that whether or not he (and his brother) lets me hug him and cry a little bit on his shoulder, the fact that I'm hugging them in my heart will help them understand some of what I can't seem to say.

A friend sent me a joyous email tonight. For nearly a month, I've been praying for a former classmate who has been hovering wayyy too near death. We've known each other almost our whole lives and have made many memories. Every year she has faithfully sent my first Christmas card of the season (except this past one when she was second!) in spite of the fact that I haven't sent any out in a decade. This summer we connected again and rejoiced together about God's purpose for her life. How could her situation have come to this little hope so soon?! But tonight's email announced that throughout this week, she has been experiencing gradual but definite and miraculous healing! She had been in an induced coma, on a respirator then a trache, too many physical problems to list. The doctors told the family that if she survived she would probably be bedfast. Now she is conscious and talking! Her lungs were severely damaged, but they have healed! She's ready to get up and walk as soon as she regains strength! The trache may be removed within another day or two and then she will be discharged to rehab care. God still has a purpose for her life! And it happened again as I read the email: I could cry, but I couldn't think of any words. I already have a card on my desk that I want to mail to her. Again I have attempted to convey what I feel, but it's just not there like I feel it. So I will hurry and mail it because I think once she is holding my card in her hands, she will understand a little of what I can't seem to say.