Thursday, April 30, 2020

My Phone Call to Rosa During COVID19

She calls herself my soul mother. 

As I was gathering up sticks and twigs that had fallen from the trees on our property during a violent spring storm, I picked up one of them and it took me back to a time when I was a six year old child walking back home from the neighborhood park with Rosa and my sisters. 

Rosa had taken one of Kathie's socks off her feet and used it as a tissue to wipe her snotty nose, which if I'm not mistaken, had infuriated her four year old self to the point she was pitching what Rosa dubbed a "hissy fit." 

Calmly, Rosa said, "Sandy, go get me a hickory switch for her behind." 

Rosa loves to retell this story, reminding me every time we talk that I promptly responded, "I'll get it, but you're not gonna whip her!"

I'm sad to think I was so sassy to her, but she thinks it was hilarious because she never intended to use it anyway (and she never did strike any of us) but just the mere threat was enough to reign her sometimes unruly charges into compliance.

As I held that stick in my hands yesterday I thought to myself I would save it. It was the perfect "hickory switch" to take to Rosa as a gift next time I visit her at the nursing home so we could laugh about that day so many years ago. 

But next time seems elusive, future distant, maybe never, who knows? This nasty Corona virus pandemic has changed everything.

I thought of Rosa all day and when my work ended, I called her to check and see how she was holding up.

"Hello," she answered as cheerfully as ever.

"It's me, Sandy," I said.

"Oh hey, Sandy, how are you doing? Is your mama okay? George? the children?"

She kept asking about my family when I was calling to ask about her. 

When I finally got to ask, her response was not shocking because it was typical Rosa, but it was convicting in a way that nearly brought me to tears.

She told me that she had not left her room in weeks. And when I say her room is tiny, it is TINY. It is a small space divided into three equal parts, first a bathroom, then a sitting room, next a sleeping area just big enough for a twin sized bed. She has a small dresser and one chair in addition to her wheelchair that she sits in all day when she is up from bed.

They bring her meals to the room and she eats alone because no visitors are allowed. So there she is, confined and isolated like many others today due to this pandemic, but her attitude was as positive and joy filled as humanly possible. 

"It's really not been bad at all. I'm not all that able to roam around much anyway and I have God. I have a lot of time to pray and I pray for you every day. I pray for our President and all the people with this virus and all the people I love."

Mic drop. Not one shred of discontentment or self pity. Instead, true joy.

If anyone could find a reason to complain these days, we might give her and those like her a legitimate pass. 

But I have never heard one single word of self pity, or complaining, or bemoaning of anything or any circumstance uttered by this woman of faith.

Her example sobers me. I hope by God's grace that someday, somewhere, somehow, someone might say of me, I never hear that woman complain. She is content and joyful no matter what, and she gives glory to The Lord in all things.

I think this is what true and genuine faith yields, and until we attain it, we have surely missed so much of the wondrous peace and rapturous joy that is our inheritance in Christ. 

She calls herself my soul mother. 

I call her one of this world's finest examples of enduring faith, godly character, and Christian love and I wanna be just like her. By God's grace alone. 

1 comment:

  1. How blessed you both are to have each other. Wonderful story.