“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness . . . ” Galatians 5:22 NIV
Love comes in all shapes and sizes. And as the story unfolds, you will understand why I say that love can even come from a humiliating event. All memories are precious, especially those of the loved ones we were forced to say goodbye to. But the children who remain give us many sweet memories to mix in with the ones that aren’t so sweet.
Some parents lose a child, making them childless for the rest of their lives. I don’t know what that is like, but I feel their pain. We can never replace the one who died. They will always have a place in our family. I am fortunate to have another child to love. He lost his brother, his best friend. He is now an only child. I have a treasured memory of him, which is a sweet one, even thought it comes from a bad situation.
I was running errands. I filled sandwich bag with orange sections, just in case I got hungry while out and about. As I turned the car toward home I reached into the bag, and ate an orange section. It tasted good and also quenched my thirst, so I ate another section and then another.
I was about halfway home by now, but my stomach seemed to have second thoughts about accepting what I had just eaten. It rumbled a little, followed quickly by the dreaded nausea.. Oh boy. This was not going well. Could I keep my mouth closed and get passed this? Nope. My stomach had the upper hand and this orange was coming back up. I was driving, remember? I had no place to pull over, so what was I going to do? This was not going to be pretty, and as I was about to discover, it was going to be swift and violent.
I don’t remember exactly what happened. When the heaves started, I probably could have set a record for velocity. When I “came to” I found my foot on the brake pedal (thankfully not the gas pedal), and I had stopped right in the middle of a lane. There were cars backed up behind me, but no one was honking impatiently.
Shakily I accelerated slowly, with my slimy hands trying to grip the steering wheel, and slowly chugged forward. A few minutes later I pulled into my own driveway. Home. Relief. What a mess! I was still too sick to deal with the upchucked orange stuff all over the steering wheel, windows, seat, floor, and my lap. But if it was allowed to dry, it would be even worse to clean up.
I entered the house. My young son was home. This was not the usual “take out the trash” request. This was huge, ugly, slimy, nasty. Would he do it? I told him I was sick and would he please clean up the car? Without a word, he disappeared outside. I peeled off my soaked clothing, tossed them into the tub to deal with later, and climbed into bed.
Hours later and feeling somewhat better, I stepped into the kitchen. My son looked up and asked, “Mom, any chance you were eating oranges when you got sick?”I had to smile. The bits of fiber stuck to everything was a dead giveaway. (In fact, I was finding “leftover” bits stuck here and there for days after.)
In spite of the nasty request, my son willingly cleaned up my mess. It wasn’t even his, but he did an act of kindness without complaint. It is a treasured memory, and proving once again that even in the worst situations, love rules.
“Love puts up with anything and everything that comes along; it trusts, hopes, and endures no matter what” (1 Corinthians 13:7 VOICE).
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. col 3:15 niv
Dear Readers, I am sure you can top this love story. Care to share one of your own?