What’s the best thing you’ve ever found randomly on the street?
Not myself, but my oldest daughter.
She was at her grandma’s house one day, and there was a couple in the middle of the street arguing.
The guy took off his belt for some weird reason, and threw it to the ground.
It was a really cool Superman belt with a silver buckle, and my daughter really liked Superman. So, when the couple left – arguing all the way down the street – she went and picked up this belt from the middle of the street.
I wasn’t there, but when I went to pick her up and found out about it, she showed me the belt. I told her to put it back in case they came back looking for it, but she laughed and said that famous line:
“Finders – Keepers! Losers – Weepers!”.
She indeed kept that belt and it still makes us giggle as a memory today now that she’s no longer with us. 😕
She loved that belt and whenever someone asked where she got it from, she loved that story that came with it.
From the streets.
When my daughter passed, my brother wanted something of hers, and he loves Superman just as much as my Tiffie (Jordan) did, so I gave him the belt.
The only thing I requested – was that he put it somewhere safe and cherish it for life because it became a part of her, and a funny memory came with it.
We were there at his place recently, and my other kids were pretty upset that the belt was very much discolored, faded, and not in the best shape like it was when I gave it to him.
He had let his kids play with it and they used it for their belt to hold their toys and play tools on.
It looks beat up and old now, and I confronted him about that. About how he didn’t cherish it and put it somewhere safe like I asked him to.
My youngest daughter took it back.
She said it’s not something to play with.
So, she has it now and she cherishes it. ❤️
I will say my nephews have no fault in it.
They didn’t know where it came from, the funny story behind it, or the way we gave it to their dad to cherish, but yes – that was something that was (kind of) randomly found in the street that we still hold close to us today, especially now that Tiffie (Jordan) is gone.
………….
With that being said….
Life has been kicking my ass lately. Bad.
So, I did something I haven’t done in such a long time.
I went to church.
I’ve just been dealing with some situations that have me in this funk I can’t get out of, and I have no idea where to turn.
My mother always said church helped her feel better.
So……I needed someone to help me through this.
My mom’s pastor where she went to church a few years ago – is Carlos. He and his wife are such good people and they try their best to be there for others.
So, the last few weeks have had me feeling disconnected from God. Had me feeling like he wasn’t listening to any of my prayers, and had me feeling like I was losing faith.
My mom loved Carlos and his wife, and we all know she absolutely loved church and believed in God, so she used to tell me all of the time that I should go to Carlos’s church with her, and that if I ever felt like I was losing faith or hope – to go to Carlos and his wife.
For years, I didn’t take her advice and I wish I would have gone to church with her all the times she wanted me to go, but these last few weeks broke me. Drained me. Hurt me. Angered me. Showed me the true colors of certain people in my life, and I wondered where God was in all of this.
I pray. I pray a lot and my kids joke that God is tired of hearing my voice because I pray so much, but these past few weeks, my voice has been silent.
I found myself not wanting to pray.
Not wanting to believe in God anymore.
Losing hope and faith.
One day, in a restaurant bathroom – where I broke down in tears because I just couldn’t hold it anymore – I messaged Carlos.
I’ve had his number in my phone for the longest, but I never used it until that day.
I told him I was broken, losing faith, and everything else I was feeling. 💔 I told him everything that was going on in my life at the moment, and how lost I’ve been feeling. I asked him – from a pastor’s perspective – where God is when I need him the most.
Why isn’t he answering my prayers?
Carlos called me. He listened to me. He told me how the Bible says that even if we don’t see it – God has a plan and he’s working on it. He told me we may not see him doing anything good in our lives at the moment, but everything happens for a reason, and eventually – I’ll figure that out and with faith – good things will start happening.
He shared how this could be a test of my faith and how I’ll keep praying and praising him – no matter what I’m going through, and how everything always works out.
He tried. He really did try to encourage me, rebuild my faith and hope, and help me feel better.
He prayed with me over the phone and asked God to let me see the miracles he can do, and to allow the angels to wrap their arms around me and pull me back into his love and faithfulness. 💜
We chatted about a few other things, and he invited me to church and a church picnic after – that was taking place Sunday, so – I went. I needed to go.
This church was a huge part of my mother’s life for the last few years of her life and she loved it. She loved Carlos and his wife and promised me if I needed to feel better – that was the place to be, and after all the times she invited me to this new church she had started going to – and I never went – I was finally there.
I was finally giving it a chance.
Carlos’s wife came over to greet me right away, gave me a hug and I cried. I said I wasn’t going to, but I just fell into her arms, and she welcomed me with open arms.
She told me, “Come on! We have a seat for you”, and she had some guys bring over a table. (The service was outdoors at a forest preserve), and the weather was breezy and beautiful.
I felt so bad because I didn’t know how far it was from where I was coming from, so I caught the end of the service, but Carlos came over to greet me, we chatted for a few, and for the little bit of time I was there, I enjoyed it.
Carlos said a lot of the church members loved and remembered my mom. ❤️ I smiled – knowing she would’ve been proud that I was there.
I met some great women.
During the picnic, the kids and I got our food, and I giggled when one of the women kept insisting I try her Potato salad. (It was delicious by the way!). I can’t just eat any ol’ Potato salad. It has to be made just right, and this one – definitely was!
I met Carlos’s mother, and I admired the way she looked so happy, and made sure everyone ate and was so taken care of. She carried herself with grace and class.
One of the women the kids and I were sitting next to, started asking if it was my first time there, and I told her about my mom and how she tried to get me to come with her to church many times, but yes – it was my first time.
She asked who my mother was, and when I said (Diane), she said she knows her and then said, “Your mom is that lady sitting over there, isn’t she?”. 👀
(lol)
I looked sideways to where she was pointing, and I told her my mom passed years ago, but if she sees her sitting there….. Let me know, because it would make me feel so much better knowing she’s with me right now. 🤣 We both had a good laugh about it, but she did apologize and say that the lady sitting on the other side – is named Diane – as well.
I watched my little dude take a turn at the Pinata, and he wanted to go play soccer with the men and boys, but for some reason – he changed his mind.
We stayed for a while, and eventually – we said our goodbyes, but Carlos’s mother found out whose daughter I was, and she and I talked for a bit about my mother and brother.
Listen. When I tell you I’m going through it right now – I’m going through it.
When the mother told me to keep praying and having faith, I tried to hold back tears but your girl is a big baby right now and I’m dealing with a lot, so I started crying again and told her I’m really trying.
She saw how broken I am. She saw how hurt I was. She saw how drained I am, and it broke her heart.
She took me in her arms and started to talk to God for me. She prayed for me and over me, and told me there was a time when she didn’t want to believe in God anymore, either.
I’m glad I went.
Having Carlos invite me there – his wife telling me stories she remembers about my mother, the ladies I met, Carlos’s mother taking the time to pray and just hugging me so tight ……..truly a blessing.
I know my mother was probably up there smiling because I went. At least, that’s my hope.
I needed Sunday.
Did it make me feel better? Not really. However – just for a few hours, I didn’t feel so alone in what I was dealing with right now.
They invited me to keep coming to church, and once I get settled and get everything else settled, I probably will keep going. We’ll see.
Life has really dragged me to hell lately, and I guess when you’re at rock bottom – the only way to go – is up, isn’t it?
Still, while church and the picnic didn’t make me feel much better unfortunately, it was good to be in a place I know my mom loved, surrounded by people who knew and loved her and she loved right back, and it was good to hear memories about her – from those who remember her.
When I was younger – and even into my adult years when I had my own kids, we always went to another church and my mom made sure we went almost every Sunday and especially on holidays.
Memories of my mom Sunday – did make me feel good because it reminded me of all of the church memories I have of her growing up and into my adult years. 😊
So, let me make you giggle.
There were so many times that my best friend came to church with us, and we’d be laughing so much (silently of course), that my mother would have to lean over and ask, “Am I going to have to separate you two?”. That would only make us laugh more.
There was another time when the pastor was preaching, the entire church was quiet and my brother held up a church bulletin – with Hangman drawn on it. On the bottom, it said: “Wanna play?”. I laughed. My brother laughed. My mom was NOT happy, but when he held up the paper – she saw what was on it, and she had to cover her mouth, so she didn’t laugh. 😁
Another time – my two older kids were teenagers, and we went to church with my mother.
She handed us the booklet to sign in saying we were there, and my older son wrote (Francisco Smith). Not his real last name by the way.
My mother was so mad, and he made her laugh when he asked her, “What is the pastor going to do? Come looking for a Francisco Smith?”.
My mother was such a great woman, and I was so happy to hear the memories and recall some of my own of her and church.
As for me – I know I have to:
So, I’m going to try to start praying again.
Start having faith again.
Start believing in him again.
Start opening and reading my Bible again.
And maybe – things will start looking up.
Love y’all.
❤️Shel❤️