I'm glad I don't have to do this alone.
This morning when a little dandruff was tickling my scalp, I was reminded of my friend Shelli. That doesn't sound flattering, but allow me to ellaborate. It was Shelli who confirmed my icky fears last December when the lice invaded. She hung around, picking for nits, and when desparation descended it was Shelli who delivered clippers for the great lice eviction.
On Friday morning (Ken's readmission), it was Shelli (and Esther :) that I scooped off the street to rush over to my house and run the circus. They watched and fed the kids. They finished my four zucchini nut loaves, they even canned my infamous salsa!
Tuesday morning, all I squeezed out of my twisted face over the phone was-- "Shelli- I CAN'T DO THIS!". She came right over.
She was there when I got the phone call.
Shelli knows what its like to lose a brother. She knows that a person continues to eat, to laugh, to cry.
She knows how to say "yes" and be Jesus with skin on.
* just a note: there are many others who loved extravagantly. But today, its Shelli's turn.