She did not physically resemble the Hazel portrayed by Shirley Booth in the 1960‘s television series other than wearing a pull-over apron each day, but my Hazel did have qualities similar to the beloved sitcom character that made all of my friends envy my good fortune of having an “almost” live-in housekeeper. She was a woman who knew how to show love and affection to a brood of noisy children with down home cooking, childhood stories of riding cows, and the use of a well-timed switching or two. My real-life Hazel spent most of her waking hours in our home, taking care of my four older siblings and me while my parents worked long hours.
Cooking, light cleaning, and laundry were not the only jobs that she was assigned. Besides those necessary chores, Hazel embraced the challenge of nurturing and instructing the charges left in her care with total devotion! We were five rambunctious, busy, scuffling kids who required constant dedication that was above and beyond any run-of-the-mill babysitter. Because of her undaunted commitment to our physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being, we grew up feeling secure and confident.
Since she cared for me from the time that I was a babe in arms, we developed an especially close relationship that would rival any mother-daughter bond. The fragrance of Jesus wafted around her as she loved me like her own child. She made me feel like I was her “favorite” by hiding fresh peanut butter cookies for me, teaching me how to sing folk songs and hand sew sock dolls, taking evening strolls around the block, grimacing while I did upside down acrobatics on the swing set, and leisurely playing rummy with me at the kitchen table. According to Hazel, the lilacs bloomed just for my enjoyment and the morning song birds were chirping my name!
When I was ten my dad got laid off from his job. Hazel, now seventy one years old, was relieved of her duties since dad would be available. Besides, her baby was now a decade old and no longer needed a babysitter . I was truly sorrowful that my beloved Hazel was not going to be at my house every day. As Providence would have it, she eventually ended up going to the same church as me, so I got to sit with her, lean on her, trace the veins and age spots on her hands, and worship by her side.
Throughout my teenage years, I would visit her, spend the night, and have long phone conversations with her. The vast age difference did not matter; she was my best friend.
When I was nineteen and she eighty, I visited her for the last time as she lay in a hospital bed with eyes glistening with tears and unable to talk. I squeezed her hand and told her I loved her. As I walked to another part of the hospital where my terminally ill mother was rooming, I knew I would never see Hazel again. She was going to be with “our Jesus”. Two days later that is what she did.
I am eternally grateful for the lessons of life and love taught to me by an angel in disguise, my Hazel.
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.
Eccl 3:1 (ESV)
After wrapping my dripping hair in the towel and quickly throwing on my clothes, I walked into the kitchen to see how the little ones were doing in my temporary absence. My oldest daughter was getting ready to leave for work, leaving my granddaughters with me for the day as planned. My morning had already been full of morning rituals. Breakfast, diaper changes, duplo building, coffee sipping. All of these normal activities that seem to cause the minutes on the clock to tick by so very quickly. My daughter, walking out the door, commented that her watch said that it was after 10:00, whereas the clock on the wall said 8:55. I had just glanced at it a minute before and had thought to myself, "Wow, we're making good time today. It's earlier than it feels." Dead battery.
So as I have continued through my day, I've reflected on how much the tick, tick, ticking of the clock dictates what I do, how fast I move, and how much I allow myself to feel guilty because I'm not doing "something else" or accomplishing more. How different would I live my life if time stood still like it did for me this morning? Would I feel free to sit and sip that cup of java at a much more leisurely pace, while I lounged on the floor and constructed towers from plastic blocks with the wide-eyed toddlers that surround me? Would I bask a little longer in the soothing hot shower without feeling like I needed to get on with more important and productive things? Would my children notice that I no longer tried to impatiently rush them through their story telling so that I could get on with our Math lesson? I wonder if I would embrace the freedom to breathe in more deeply the beauty of the yellow bean fields that are lining my street right now while I take my morning walk without being constrained to hurry back in order to get the housework started or the bills paid.
I am striving (and have been for countless years it seems!) to be "all there" in the moments of life. Because that's really all we have. When we reflect on the past, don't we just remember moments? Snippets of time. Here and gone. My favorite read of this year was "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voscamp. It's really a masterpiece in my eyes. Below is a quote from her book.
"Time is a relentless river. It rages on, a respecter of no one. And this, this is the only way to slow time: When I finally enter time's swift current, enter into the current moment with the weight of all my attention,I slow the torrent by being all here. I only live the full life when I live fully in the moment. And when I'm always looking for the next glimpse of glory, I slow and enter. And time slows. Weigh down this moment in time with attention full, and the whole of time's river slows, slows, slows."
I imagine Heaven being a place where we carry no guilt about what we "should" be doing or about how long something is taking. I see myself bathing in beauty around me, perhaps reading timeless books, laughing with loved ones, working with joy and purpose. No regrets, no second guessing, no comparing myself with others, no what ifs.
I may not truly be able to make time stand still. And I may not be in Heaven yet. But I can and will keep giving my best efforts at seeing the moments in each day as meaningful and blessed. For now, I won't even give in to that twinge of guilt that is trying to make me feel bad for taking the time to write this blog! Live fully. Live well. Live gratefully.
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