It didn’t happen overnight

Rarely does a new thing develop overnight.

In 2014, my dear man who had already been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease sorrowfully broke the news to me that he was about to be unemployed.

It was July, and on one particular day, the new buyers of my dear man’s employer arrived at the office and took control of operations. Stressful is an understatement.

The day arrived when the sale of the business would be finalized and employees would be released. All cell phones were off. My dear man forewarned me, “You won’t be able to reach me at all today. We will talk when I get home.”

On that very same day when he was unreachable, his Mom suffered a massive stroke. I received the phone call from his oldest brother. I had to explain the work situation and the fact that his baby brother could not be reached.

I tried obsessively anyway. I called every land line… just in case. And after several hours, finally got a message to someone who could deliver my message to call home. My dear man was granted 5 minutes. This was a heart wrenching conversation.

He had to go…

Once my dear man arrived home, he was able to call his brother. The update was slightly hopeful, but still everyone felt it would be wise for us to get to Ohio as soon as possible. We left Atlanta the next day and made our way up 75 North into Dayton.

Not knowing if we had 5 minutes or days or months we made it to the hospital. We got to visit with Mom B and pray with her. She seemed to recognize us and understand we were all present with her. We huddled together as family.

The job stuff was blurred into the background at least for the moment.

So, where am I going with this story? You might be wondering. But interestingly, as only Gods timing can be, it was around this place on the timeline that my dad asked me a seemingly odd question. He wanted to know if I would like to learn how to weave cane.

I answered that I would think about it. Dad handed me a dvd set of weaving tutorials. I placed the dvd set in a safe place.

Life had been a bit overwhelming as of late. Learning to live with PD. Job loss. MomB in hospice care. Travel back and forth – Georgia to Ohio. Job search. Neurologists. Uncertainty loomed large.

Three years later, MomB received her welcome into heaven.

Three years of unfruitful job search, my dear man began to call himself semi-retired.

Another year later, I resigned my job and came home.

I had not forgotten my dad’s invitation to learn how to weave cane. Suddenly, I had time. I could learn something new.

I found the dvds. With the intent to watch and learn, I loaded the first dvd class. She was speaking English-the instructor- but I couldn’t understand her instructions. The weaving language was foreign to me. I had too many questions.

Feeling totally overwhelmed, I packed up all the dvds in my car and headed for a visit with my dad. Dads have answers, right?

He did have answers. He had courage too. Dad was confident. He was certain that weaving cane was a totally doable venture. And dad just happened to have a couple of antique chairs needing some new cane seats.

In true dad fashion, he said, “Let’s just try it. If it doesn’t work out… no big deal!”

At that particular time in life, this was an offer I couldn’t refuse. Dad was encouraging. He was inspirational. I needed a project, and couldn’t ask for a better mentor.

With the storm clouds swirling over my life, I had found an opportunity to create beauty out of ashes. Broken chairs would be restored to form and function. I didn’t have to figure everything out. I could (at least for a few hours) let go of the grown up angst of life and simply play.

My dad, “Let’s just try it. What do we have to lose?” I was sold. We became weaving buddies.

Repair and Restore.

It didn’t happen overnight.

Neither can we repair and restore alone.

We need God. And we need each other.

Isaiah 58:11-12

“The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.”

Eyes on Jesus and Shine,

~Lisa