Monday, April 7, 2014

You never know who you are talking to

The other night, I went to a visitation for the daughter of a friend of mine. I worked with Janet at the newspaper for several years. Her daughter Jeanae was just 34 when an aneurysm took her the other day. I remember when Jeanae was on the flag team in high school and at Northwest. I remember when she got married. I knew she had two small boys. 

Janet had left the newspaper and moved to Missouri, but she came to my house when Lauren died. I never forgot that. I felt it was my duty to go and see her. 

The funeral home was really crowded and the line to get in was really long. (And it was pouring down rain.) 

 I struck up a conversation with a young lady next to me. We began to talk about how we knew Jeanae. She told me that she was the sister-in-law of Jenae's brother, Jeffrey. I mentioned that Janet had come when my daughter died. She told me that she had lost her two-year-old son to a drunk driver. Both of our children died 10 years ago. We shared a bit of our journey with each other, and said our goodbyes when we got inside the funeral home. 

The next morning my friend Sybil, who is the director of the Foundation at our college, emailed to say there was a family coming in to talk about starting a scholarship (like the one we have for Lauren). My director decided she would interview them because she felt it would be hard for me, since they had lost their son to a drunk driver. (I am so lucky to have the folks I work with. They are so thoughtful of me!)

When Sarah, my director came back, she started to tell me about the couple she had interviewed. She had shared my story with them in an effort to reassure them that the scholarship really is invaluable. She said the young woman's face changed when she realized she had been talking to me on Friday night!

My face changed too, when she recounted the story to me. I had never met this woman before. I was talking to her when I was in line to comfort yet another friend who had lost a child. I never mentioned my scholarship, which is odd, because I always talk to people about it. 

I can only chalk this up to God and his plans. Plans we don't understand, and we don't need to understand. We just need to be open to those plans. Lord, make me a vessel. 

"But we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us." 2 Cor 4:7

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