A Handful of Quiet

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A room filled with women, we arrived and found our table. Five women can live at our homeless shelter at any given time. We’re always full, their stories always different.

One’s had a really tough stretch of days and she rode with me.

I told her on the way over about the way I sometimes write the word “trust” on my palm. I open my hand to look at it and remember or sometimes close my fingers in towards my palm, letting my thumb lie against the place I know the word rests.

She smiled and I drove, running late as usual.

When she realized we were going to the country club for dinner, she said,”Oh, we’re going to be at the country club?!”

I answered, “Yes.” and a added a little “whoop whoop hand in the air shoulder shake”

It’s my signature move. My daughter has built a whole “Snap” story around me.

She added, laughing out loud, ” Raise the roof, Miss  Lisa!”

And then, her eyes glossy, “I laughed. This is the first time I’ve laughed this week.”

We all sat together. The women who live in our shelter, myself and another employee.

When grace was said, I opened my hands on my lap and listened.

Softly and unexpectedly,she put her hand in mine and I covered our hands together as we prayed.

The warmth of her hand was indescribable.

The thought of it still now as warm.

I spoke about our program, remembering little of what I said except “Their stories become my story. It’s only the grace of God that has kept me from the same hardship.” Because I always say that, always.

Some of the women in the fancy dining room listened, really understood. Most likely only some were brave enough to try and understand if I’m honest.

Let’s be honest, many were thinking…Well, I’d never get myself in such a mess like that.

The room was filled with wealthy women and towards the end of the night, one in particular clearly shunned me.

I felt it.

I have experience with this feeling.

I woke up remembering it and almost let it linger; but, remembered more clearly her beautiful hand in mine.

How could I minimize the beauty of the one hand by sulking over the other?

Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and chasing after the wind. Ecclesiastes 4:5

So, I prayed, “Lord thank you that my life has been less than perfect. That I’ve not had the perfect dress for every function. Lord, thank you that you’ve placed me in places that I get to hold the hands of others. Thank you, Lord that she reached for my hand, knowing I’d reach back. Thank you for reminding me to stop chasing the approval of others.

Linking up for Five Minute Friday although, I always feel certain I go over. I’m not so great rule follower at all. 🙂

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4 thoughts on “A Handful of Quiet

  1. What a beautiful post. When I finished reading, I grabbed a purple marker and wrote “trust” on my pinky finger. Every time I see it today, I’ll pray for the woman whose hand you held, that she may know many moments of peace and laughter. I’m visiting from FMF, #23.

    Patricia

    Liked by 1 person

  2. So nice to meet you, Lisanne. LOVE THIS: “Thank you, Lord that she reached for my hand, knowing I’d reach back. Thank you reminding me to stop chasing the approval of others.” Such a beautiful prayer, and such a beautiful truth. Well done for being His hands for these women. Respect.
    Shauna (your neighbour in #21)

    Liked by 1 person

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