Little Did I
Know
Theology in the Trenches
By Kathleen Kjolhaug
“Can
you bring some soup?” asked the church lady on the other end of the line. “We
need two gallons of vegetable, chili, or potato.” With phone up to ear, I walk
to the fridge, and open the top freezer. I spy one huge bag of stir fry
vegetables, unopened. That’ll work, I
thought, and along with that came my answer.
“Yes.”
Knowing
full well I hadn’t been to the grocery store for quite some time, I had forgotten
the bag was there…apparently awaiting for such a time as this. Little did I
know that when I purchased that very package, it would be used to make some
homemade vegetable soup for Debbie’s funeral, and I began to wonder.
Little
did she know that today would be the day she would get to see her youngest son,
Michael, who’d gone before her some time ago. It was hard on Debbie. Perhaps
the hardest pain any mama is called to endure is the loss of a child. Endure
she did with dignity and love poured out on each of his classmates as if they
were her own. She turned her energy towards others with her laughter and her
love.
She
kept home fires burning on behalf of Michael’s siblings, and created an ambience
that welcomed them to home base as needed. She loved, gave, and lived love with
each step taken on behalf of others…because she believed. She believed in the
fine young men she was called to raise and desired so much for each one. She
was proud of everything and anything they did. All around town people would
find out just how deeply she loved as she would tell of the latest job, the
latest military commitment, or the latest one to come home for just a little
respite as life called.
She
was everybody’s Debbie. She was Debbie on the playground conversing with the
little ones through various stages as they struggled to find their footing. She
was Debbie at Vacation Bible School plopping her three young ones in the pews
to learn a few fundamentals. She was Debbie mama who provided popcorn, candles,
and movies mid-winter to secure the hatch from the cold winds blowing outside.
She was Debbie creating a little house into a home with some of Grandma Clara’s
favorite items. She was Debbie tree planter at school helping the other little
people cope with the death of her Michael. She was prom committee volunteer
seeing Michael’s class through this right-of-passage. She was Debbie who
chortled laughter unabashed throughout the grocery store as she enlisted
conversation to others around. She was Debbie who hand stitched sets of dish towels
for many a newlywed couple, for many a shower, for many a day. She was our lady
in town who will be dearly missed.
You
touched lives Debbie. Thank you for giving so much of yourself to so many. To
God be the glory. May you enjoy every single second of running your fingers
through Michael’s blonde hair as only a mama can do…as you spend eternity
together…forever. Tell your dad “hello” and that the winter is mild. Blessings
until we meet again. Amen.
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