Soothing Words

Soothing Words

I love honey! I love not only the sweet taste, but also the consistency. When I go to a specialty store, I always look to see what kinds of honey blends they have. Recently, I found a delicious combination that blends my favorite fragrance, lavender, with honey. I don’t know how they did it but it’s really, really good.

The Bible speaks of honey often in Old Testament stories. Like in Proverbs where honey is likened to the words we speak. Proverbs 16:24 says, “Pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the bones.”

I have been spoken to with words that felt like honey on my soul. I remember my grandmother soothing me after a certain trying situation. I will never forget the tenor of her voice and the calming words she said.

Other times I have been the recipient of the bee sting of words that pricked my soul. Those words hurt and pummeled me with accusation to the point of making me want to run away. I remember thinking I would never forgive that person for saying those words to me. Thank goodness I learned about forgiveness from my Savior. In my pride, I think that I’ll never use piercing words with anyone, but in reality I know I have.

God, wash my mouth out with the sweetness of words like you say to me so that I can say words that heal others. Help me not to use words of accusation as swords that hurt others. Keep my tongue from becoming a tool of retribution and pride. Create in me a clean heart (Psalm 51) and renew a right spirit in me. And may my actions and words be those that soothe and heal. Amen!

There Are No Orphans of God

As a 65-year-old, I became an orphan this month. Both of my parents died within 13 days of each other. It was hard to watch and even harder to experience.

There were some days I had never felt more alone and others when I had never felt more loved. I received so many sympathy cards from friends and extended family; they filled my dining room table and peppered my living room end tables.

During my parents’ last few days, my kids were at the hospital with me regularly. While this helped tremendously and calmed me, there was this nagging sensation in my soul that marked the end of something great. I believe it was the finality of the relationships I had with my parents.

Growing up, I was not the closest with my mom. It’s a long, long story, but one I hope to write about someday. As she grew older and dementia set in, I no longer felt tension when I spent time with her. I only felt pity for a short time and then forgiveness. The forgiveness was freeing for me as I saw her with God’s eyes. A helpless, lonely, little old lady who pushed those away she loved. It was difficult seeing her digress so quickly into not knowing who I was. Then, watching as her body gave in to the disease, and she refused to eat or drink.

On the other hand, my dad was a tall, lanky guy with a sharp wit and intelligence. I loved to take him for rides to places he’d never been. My kids came to see him and would bring him his favorite chocolate malt or chocolate kisses. I loved that man with a passion. He always represented silent strength to me. Watching him go from that to a stroke victim with a broken leg overnight was devastating. He could no longer talk; he could only communicate with us by squeezing my hand in response to yes or no questions. After three days, that ability was gone, too.

Losing both parents in a short amount of time left me feeling that I’d been deserted or orphaned. Oh, I know I have many around me to comfort me, cheer me up, and soothe those feelings. But I’m praying God heals this section that feels like a hole has been unplugged and a part of me is seeping out.

There are no strangers, there are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but Hallelujah
There are no orphans of God
(Lyrics from Avalon)