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An Old Friend
By Karen Gifford
I guess I’ve always known Jesus. Though there was a length of time I lapsed in acknowledging Him, I now realize that He was there all along. And I’m sure He knew I would eventually glance over, smile and re-familiarize myself with Him. When my friends seem to forget about me for a while I often feel disappointed by their negligence, and I’m hesitant to rekindle our friendship. What kind of friend does that make me? Jesus just smiles back and says "Welcome Home" and not begrudgingly in the least. This being just one of the qualities I strive to perfect in myself. Oh there are many of these qualities, some I’m happy to say I already possess, and some we all should continually strive to achieve. Most, I’d like to point out, are qualities my mother, God rest her beautiful soul, spent her lifetime instilling in me and my siblings.
She is an inspiring woman, unselfish in her giving and caring of others. I use the word ‘is’ because in my heart and soul she still lives though her body is no longer with us. She gave her life to her family, forsaking all others and putting aside her own dreams to make us healthy, happy, and full of love. Her happiness was witnessing our happiness, her appetite fed when she provided us nourishment and saw us grow into healthy adults, her dreams were realized in our smiles. As I contemplate the similarities of the teachings of Jesus and the teachings of my mother I realize that I’ve always knows Jesus. You see, I’m pretty sure my mother was a good friend of Jesus, and she in turn introduced him to us.
I’ve had an interesting journey so far in my 43 years of life. My family and I have recently gone through the most dreaded part of life, losing our mother. This stretch of time has been the darkest period in my life so far. But those words aren’t an accurate description. This period of time was more of an absence of time, an absence of everything. The word darkness conjures up an image in my mind, but during this period after my mother’s death, there was no image, dark or otherwise, time just ceased to exist. I just ceased to exist. Everything around me ceased to exist. Life itself ceased to exist, and in turn, sadly, Jesus seemed to cease to exist. Of course I know now that was not true, He was always there, but I didn’t look up. I’m sure He was calling to me, holding my hand, trying to comfort me, but I didn’t turn my head to look in his direction. I felt neglected by him and held a grudge.
The only direction I could face was the direction from where my family’s tears were coming. All I saw was the emptiness behind my father’s eyes where there used to be life activity, and love. The color was gone. I saw the heaviness that beset him and the rest of my family crushing down upon their hollow shells. It was as if in one fell swoop something reached down and tore out our insides, leaving us all void of substance, thin layers of sadness and sorrow surrounding nothing. My family looked to me like empty delicate crusts. And it was how I felt also. There was nothing but the details now.
Time went by; we all went through the motions. I came back to my home town to live. I began a new job and was blessed with the opportunity to meet and get to know new and interesting people. My observation of this place I had so long ago left behind was that of a diminishing population of people struggling to hold on to some form of hope. Wages were low, and it seemed that as the time had passed and the industries pulled out and the businesses closed down, something had tipped the glass and hope and promise spilled slowly over the edges of life as people scrambled to get a towel. I started listening closer to the talk in the office though, and what I heard was talk of Jesus, and talk of walking with the Lord after being lost for so long. These people did have hope and promise and happiness, because they knew Jesus. And then it started to occur to me that my observations of a hopeless city were due to the fact that I wasn’t looking in the right direction. Remember that friend who I felt neglected me? I was still holding a grudge and looking the other way, and what I saw was skewed by the absence of Jesus. My perceptions were not clear, they were not truth, because I was overlooking someone who was standing right there.
Had He really been absent from my life? The more I listened to their talk of the teachings of Jesus and the way to follow His word, the more I realized that although I was not a practicing Catholic at the time, I did live by His word. Everything my coworkers reiterated from their church services sounded like common sense to me. I shared with them stories of how my mother raised us with love and laughter, with prayer and praise, with encouragement and hope, and most of all with faith. I shared with them the teachings my mother taught us in morality, and caring, and giving, and to recognize the things that are truly important in life and to try to spread this to others. As this realization awakened me I understood the life I had been given by my mother was the life that Jesus teaches. My mother was all those things, because she knew Jesus! I immediately started looking up again, my fog lifted, and a spark lit in my eyes as if with the recognition of a dear old friend; one who had been by my side through all the good times and the bad times, and who never held a grudge when I failed to acknowledge Him for any length of time. There He was. He was there all the time. I turned and smiled and He smiled back; what better friend is there? I had come back home in more ways than one. And once I was able to see Jesus again, once I acknowledged Him again, I was able to understand that I hadn’t lost my mother, nor was I ever neglected by Him. Through Him my mother lives, and through my mother He lived. I guess I have always knows Jesus.
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| Some other articles by Karen Gifford | Cookbook Keepsake
When the holidays roll around and you find yourself feeling very nostalgic you can bet you are not alone. We all long for the comfort of our past, trying to hold on to ...
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