Monday Motivation: Identical

Friends

When we lose loved ones, they are never really lost, because they live on in our memories. It’s been ten years since we lost my sweet Aunt Tina, yet I can still see her big brown eyes and her beautiful smile. I can hear the sweet melody of her gentle voice. Those things are etched on the walls of my mind, and when I consider them, I never fail to smile.

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“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”

Colossians 3:12 – NIV

It was just a plain round oak table, four simple chairs, nothing fancy. From one of those chairs, you could view the pleasant back yard out the bay window or follow the goings-on in the cooking side of the kitchen, and there was usually some tasty meal or scrumptious dessert being prepared there. One thing you could always count on at that kitchen table was a large glass of sweet tea.

To a homesick teenage girl, a glass of tea sounded really good. It was well worth the trip, because the sweet tea was good, but the woman who served it was even sweeter.

I didn’t have to travel far to get the tea, just down the road a few miles from my current residence, the five-room mill house that had been my Granny’s home for nearly fifty years. I was glad to be with my Granny, but I was missing my real home, the home that was wherever my Mama and Daddy called home. For the past eighteen months, the three of us had made a new home in the Upstate of South Carolina, but that had all changed with a phone call and the job interview that followed.

When my father had left the Army in 1975, our nuclear family had moved back to the family farm temporarily before buying a house about 20 miles away. Being home with our extended family was our collective dream. My father landed a teaching job at the local community college, and I enrolled in my fourth and final high school, or so I thought. My mother was finishing up her college degree, and the three of us settled into our new house to build a new life near our loved ones.

But then the phone rang. From the other end of the line came a job offer for my father that we hadn’t counted on, a civil service job with significantly more salary, excellent benefits, and a substantial retirement plan. It was a windfall for my father, and it was also in Richmond, Virginia. We called a family meeting, and bounced around the pros and cons. My parents were so concerned about moving me again to yet another school, but I knew this was an exceptional opportunity for my dad.

I recall the certain nudge of the Holy Spirit as we sat at our kitchen table discussing the offer. In that moment, I knew we had to go, and I said so. After all, what’s one more school when you’ve been to 24, might as well make it an even 25!

That’s how my 16-year-old self ended up living at Granny’s house to finish out my junior year of high school. That’s why I was homesick for my parents, because they moved to Richmond a few months ahead of me. That’s why I was sipping sweet tea at that round oak kitchen table. That’s why I needed to talk to my Aunt Tina, because talking to my Aunt Tina was exactly like talking with my Mama.

There was a softness in her big, brown eyes that was so familiar, a tenderness in her sweet smile that I knew well. I knew how she would ask her questions, how she would respond to my comments. I knew how her hug would feel. I knew i would feel better just being in her presence. I knew these things, because knowing Aunt Tina was like knowing my mother. They were sisters, but more than that, they were identical twins.

During those few months in the Spring of 1977, I made a lot of trips to sit at Aunt Tina’s round kitchen table. I drank a lot of sweet tea with her. I don’t recall the specifics of a single conversation, but I remember the feeling of being welcomed, of being loved.

As the mother of two fine sons, one older and one younger than me, she didn’t have a girl of her own. I was the only daughter of her beloved sister, and I became “her girl.” She and I chatted about “girl stuff,” and I think she loved it. I’m quite sure she had no idea how much those little chats meant to me, but they helped my homesickness in a way I couldn’t quite put into words.

I am continually fascinated with how God puts people in our paths to help us, in the perfect way, at the perfect time. Aunt Tina was a beacon of light all my life, but she was especially so in those few months in the spring of 1977. She had a divine appointment then, and she fulfilled it beautifully, just like she did so many others throughout her life.

Friends, let this story be a gentle reminder to not miss our divine appointments. Don’t miss the chance to connect, to offer encouragement, to provide a listening ear. Welcome those conversations that may seem mundane to you, but may be the comfort that another is searching for. Sometimes what a person needs from you is not earth shattering. Sometimes it’s not mountain moving. Often, it’s just being present. Perhaps it’s as simple glass of sweet tea offered with a sweet smile and sipped at a cozy kitchen table.

By the way, it’s a good thing my father accepted that job offer. Not only was it a fabulous career opportunity, it set him up for a long and comfortable retirement. It

May have been my 25th school, but I was meant to be there. For on the first day of my senior year in my fifth high school, I met a handsome football player in the school corridor. His hazel eyes and mischevious grin made me cast a second glance in his direction. A few days later, he invited me to a new movie called “Star Wars,” and as they say, the rest is history!

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“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Romans 8:28 – NIV

PRAYER

O Lord God, thank You for the beautiful people You put in our paths to help us. Thank You for the way our loved ones lighten our loads and bring joy into our lives. Lord, You orchestrate our circumstances in ways we could never imagine. When we look back over our lives, we see Your gentle hands at work, bringing hope out of despair, joy out of sorrow, good out of hardship. Lord, You are always working, even when we don’t see it, even when we don’t feel it. Let us learn to trust You in every situation, secure in the certainty that You can, and will, work all things together for good.

In the Gracious Name of Jesus, we pray,

Amen

Blessings,

Anita

-APS 11/6/2023