"...Heal her infirmaties..."

We visited one of our daughters recently. We attended Church services with her. At her congregation a young woman, in her twenties I assume, spoke. It became apparent that there were some physical limitations. Her speech was slow and labored, somewhat slurred at times. She walked with difficulty. I noticed she was with child, she sat down after her comments next to a man in his late 20's/early 30's, I assume her husband. At the conclusion of the meeting, she was asked to give the benediction. She returned to the the front of the chapel and began taking steps up to the podium area when I noticed she stumbled and nearly feel. She caught herself somehow, regained her balance, and proceeded to offer the closing prayer. I can't remember a word she said. I just felt so ashamed for taking for granted my health, my ability to run and walk without difficulty, my ability to talk and converse and carry myself. I watched her return to her husband there after, she made it down the stairs without problems, but again, her hands/arms were extended to help her get her balance. Her blond hair, tied back in a ponytail, she dressed not in Nordstrom's fine attire, but in a clean and comely dress, and seemed genuinely happy, not embarrassed nor upset by her condition. I remember somewhere in all of this thinking, "I wish the Savior could heal her infirmaties now." I've seen movies where He is portrayed healing the blind and those with infirmaties. And I desired this for her. Now. But I've had to tell myself that this isn't my call. Only God sees all. I trust Him. Paul spoke about praying 3 different times in his life to have the "thorn in his flesh" removed. It wasn't. There was a reason why God allowed it to remain. Perhaps the same thing can be said of this young lady. I don't know. I felt like I knew her from somewhere. It can't be. She lived in Phoenix before living in Western Colorado. But she's made an impression on me. My prayers may or may not be "Heal her infirmaties..." But I'll ask "Help me to remember her and the graceful, humble way she goes about her life, and help me be more like that." Maybe that's how we're to live our lives: with grace and humility regardless the afflictions and infirmaties we live with in mortality. I think so. I hope I don't forget her nor her radiant face. Instead of "...but for the grace of God, go I there..." I think I'll say, "...with the grace of God perhaps I can carry on as she does with gratitude and humility."

Having said that, with the end of summer came putting my garden beds to bed for the winter. It's taken a lot of time getting the soil cleaned of summer roots, then tilling both garden spot as well as large and small pots for spring planting. But it's done. My greenhouse now becomes my winter reading spot. And I'm surrounded by soil that is ready for spring planting. I washed the greenhouse windows to allow maximum sunlight so that sitting in my Adirondack chair anytime between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m., on Saturday's or Sundays, while it's 20 or 30 degrees outside, I can read and write in temperatures of 70's or maybe 80's. I've planted about 50 different spring bulbs in there too so that when last spring frosts kill my outdoor tulips, I'll still have "indoor" ones that give color and help fight off that white-knuckled grip that winter holds year after year.
Be well, do good...