staci_stallings@hotmail.com

Often in this life we make judgments about how things are. We look at
someone else and think, "Well, of course they're happy. Everything is
wonderful for them." However, many times we don't really know the whole
story. Knowing the whole story might help us understand that to truly
"do unto others" we need in every moment to realize that they might
actually be hurting much more than it appears on the outside.

Recently this lesson was driven home to me in a rather roundabout way.
I was at a family party that was not limited to the immediate family.  There
was a lady there whom I regard as a good friend although we don't spend more
than 20 minutes a year together.  The time we have spent together has been
in deep conversation. Chit-chat for us is nearly non-existent.

Just weeks prior to this party this young woman had experienced the
ultimate tragedy-she had lost her sister to cancer, been asked to take care of
the sister's children, and then little by little realized that with the
father still in the picture and adamant about keeping her out of the picture,
there was precious little she could actually do to help without his blessing or
consent.  It was a tough situation.

In the process she had begun to blame her other brothers and sisters
for living. To her, it was unthinkable that they could have a party much
less even enjoy themselves and their children while members of their family
were struggling to make it to the next minute emotionally.  Not to say that
this family had been unsupportive.  They had gone to the hilt to help this
family through the tragedy; however, the reality is that life goes on.  At
least it did for everyone except her.

While at the party my son who was only about six months old at the time
became fussy, so I went out into the beautiful backyard where it was
cooler and quieter to see if he would go to sleep.  As I walked around the
sidewalk under the trees, I sang to him and cuddled him closer-thanking God for
the precious, beautiful little gift He had given me.

On the third or fourth pass around, I noticed that my friend had come
out to
sit on the porch swing and smoke.  I kept walking, knowing that she was
having a hard time being around people, and figuring that she just
wanted
some alone time. Then on the fifth or sixth pass, she called out to me,
"Hey, would you quit walking and get over here and talk to me."

I did as commanded.  We sat in the swing and talked for quite awhile
about the state of her life and how angry she was at everyone for "just
forgetting."  I tried to console her, but she would hear none of it. 
She was angry, and in her mind, she had every right to be because everyone
else just didn't understand and therefore must really not care at all.  Then
the bombshell.  She looked at me and said, "I'm even angry at you for being
out here just walking around with your baby like everything is wonderful.
Of course, it is... for you."

It took me too long to recover to think of a suitable answer, and by the time I did, the party was over and we'd all gone home.  However, what I later realized is that in her pain she had never considered that my idyllic walk could be anything but. You see, what she didn't know was that my young son had a heart condition, a VSD. Translation:  a massive hole in his heart. The doctors had made no promises that the healthy track he seemed to be on would continue for the next month, much less the next minute.

We were to be on the lookout at all times for such things as if he were
to suddenly stop breathing or to go to sleep while he was eating because
these could be signs that major intervention might have to occur.  His heart
beat so loud at times that I could feel it by holding him under his arms. 
While I walked, I was grateful for the six months God had already given me
with him, and I was praying that He would see fit to extend that time
indefinitely.

Now, I didn't go around bewailing this point, but it was still in my
heart and on my mind quite often.  When she sat on that swing and judged
those around her as not grieving enough, what she couldn't see was that by
wasting the time that she could have been spending with them, there were others
in that house that she might be mourning tomorrow or the next day.

None of us has a guarantee of tomorrow, so it's imperative to spend the
time we have with them here NOW.  Judging and being angry is a great way to
miss the time we have.

A group of friends one time asked me how I had gotten through my first
daughter being born three months early.  They asked, "Weren't you
scared and angry?" With no hesitation, I replied, "I didn't have time to be.  She
might only be with me for an hour, and I wanted to spend that hour loving her
not regretting and feeling guilty about that situation."

I thank God for guiding me to walk that night. I thank God for bringing
my friend out there.  She is still in pain, and I pray for her to let it
go and to love those who are still here. It is a lesson I will forever be
grateful for learning because you just never know.

Copyright, Staci Stallings 2004