Gloomy Skies

 

The predicted snow started to fall in large, fluffy flakes from a gloomy dark gray sky.  It was late morning and the pines and crusty, dry ground soaked up the moisture.  This winter scene contrasted our usual bright Arizona sunny skies.  We, and the earth, crave moisture.  It's been so dry without rain for over 150 days.

In my kitchen, my crock pot alerted me with bubbling sounds so I switched my homemade chicken soup to low.  Chocolate chip cookie dough waited on the counter for the oven to reach 175 degrees.

My cell phone notified me of a new text message and I saw my best friend's name appear at the top of the screen.  "Oh, good" I thought.  She responded.

My bestie lay in a Phoenix hospital awaiting surgery after a slew of tests.  I had sent an encouraging text with a Scripture earlier with hopes to deliver peace and quiet rest for her soul.  "No surgery tomorrow,"  she wrote.  It's cancer and they're sending me home to start Chemotherapy immediately.

My heart dropped.  I began to pray.  I asked Father God for a new pancreas from his heavenly storehouse of all kinds of body parts.  I asked the ladies from my church to pray.  I was in a fog, but I asked Alexa to play my favorite worship playlist.  Praise is a weapon in times like this even when I didn't feel like singing.

I felt frozen and memories flooded my thoughts.  We've been close friends for decades.  We're both mothers of girls and we faced widowhood together.  We have history; we know everything about each other.  We both love Jesus and enjoy uplifting, inspirational lunches together.  God blessed us with one of those unique friendships where we speak life into each other's purpose.  I can't put a price tag on such a treasure.

It was just before the holidays when we last met up for lunch and enjoyed delicious crepes in Sedona.  We talked about my trip to Tucson to be with my kids while she awaited her girls to come home with their families.  She bought a tree and a high chair for her toddler grandson.  We felt hopeful because her daughter's cancer treatment for stage four breast cancer worked well enough for her to travel home for the holidays.

Now this.

I'm incredibly sad today.  But as the song says, "Our Redeemer Lives."

The oven timer rang.  The cookies were done and I swiped one for comfort.  I noticed it stopped snowing.  The gloomy sky described my gloomy mood.  We will take each day as it comes.  We will hang on to Jesus for strength as we trust in His promises.

We will choose joy in the journey.