Would you?

Would you like a chair? No, thank you.

Can I get the door for you? No, thanks. I’ve got it.

Let me get that for you. No thanks, I can get it.

I’m doing it again, and i didn’t realize it until this morning.

It’s been pointed out by friends who know and love me that I’m NOT all about the cane.

And if I want to be valued for being more than what I am limited by, then I should consider the possibility that a man might not even see my acrylic accessory.  He might just see a woman that he wants to hold a door open for.  Wow.

The cane gets in my way, and gets in my head only when I allow it.  It isn’t in my smile, my laugh, or how I love.

Regarding its value, a cane at my age is a great sifter, frankly.  Sifts out the riff-raff.  Sifts out those that must have perfect (I never cared for perfect, myself.).  Sifts out surface versus depth

But that cane can be a shield, too.  It’s just great for me keeping you at arm’s length.  It’s great to blame for loneliness.  Willingly takes responsibility for the world’s incivility and rudeness.  Easy target, but not the responsible one.

I am the responsible party.  It’s my responsibility to see and communicate who I am clearly to my circle, my world.  If I am more than my cane, more than what I can’t do, then I need to remember to say “thank you” .

Because it’s lovely to have a door held open.

Gently Held

I have a new friend.  She is amazing.  Depth and wisdom from pain, loss and gritty faith.  A million miles of desert on her way to freedom. She has a way about her that just invites confiding.  I find myself doing just that, which is surprising.

All that longing to be able  to lay aside my walls of protection snuck up on me in answered prayer.

God is so like that.  Quiet, whispered nudges are my favorite answers.

Believe me, I’ve had my share of shouts over the years.  Refusing to listen, stubbornly going my own way, viewing everything from my position of Want.  But when prayer becomes response, the wise of women would recognize it.

So I was talking with my new friend, when I suddenly shared something quite protected, not something I normally say. But very revealing of what I think and feel. She held it so gently.

Saying something out loud takes away its power.

Given air, it’s out of hiding.  Can”t protect me any longer.  Can’t pretend it’s not there.

And God heals.

Wise woman indeed.