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Palette of Light
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I WRITE TO HONOR FEISTY MARRIAGES. “Honor” might be a bit strong, but let us get it straight from the beginning: a zesty relationship is the highlight of my life. I understand that not everyone feels the same, . . .

from "In Honor of Feisty Marriages: The Story of a Remodel"
by Kylie Nielson Turley

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Promises . . .

Today we have another great guest post from Lori, of Hearts and Hands. Thanks Lori!

Ours was a friendship that, over the years, dissolved into what could be termed as a mere acquaintanceship. I left the neighborhood we both lived in and vowed to return to see Julie as often as I could. She was going to become a real estate agent. Regrettably, I don’t know if she ever got her license.

Through the grapevine, I heard she moved into an apartment across town. I didn’t think of her again until I opened the local newspaper; the story said her young son had been injured in an accident and, after several months, had lost his battle to live.

A little voice told me I should go see Julie, give my condolences, and try to be of support. It wasn’t just the kind of fleeting worry that makes you wonder if you should return home to check and see if the stove is still on — and you do and its not. It was the kind of voice that shouted, “Go home. The house is going to burn down!” But time was short, my life busy.

I ignored the prompting.

The following Wednesday, the paper came again. That same little voice, as if in a reprimand, told me to turn to the obituaries. There she was — Julie — her life over, my chance at keeping my promise to remain her friend snuffed out. I trembled with remorse.

What years ago brought us together were the differences and similarities that eventually kept us apart. We were strong minded women with individual goals we were working hard to attain. However, we both yearned for a relationship with our Lord and Savior and happiness and stability for our children. In the beginning, I set out to be an example Julie would be proud to emulate, a supposedly solid friend in whom she could trust. In the end, I was so busy trying to be a good person in the eyes of the world that I forgot the world is comprised of individuals.

Could I have made a difference if I kept my promise to return and see her? Would it have mattered if I paid my respects when her son died? Put my arms around her, giving her all she once looked to me for? My mind tells me I can’t know for certain, yet my heart whispers the truth.

It can be argued that it is not humanly possible to keep track of all the people who come and go in our lives. But the spirit will never fail to guide us to where we are truly needed, if we will but heed the call. Yesterday is over but I have today”¦today when I will search my heart and all the faces I pass by. I want to remember my other Julie’s. I pray I will never forget them again.

8 Comments

  1.  Maryanne :: 6 May 2008 @ 10:11 am ::

    I was so busy trying to be a good person in the eyes of the world that I forgot the world is comprised of individuals.

    I cannot tell you how important this was for me to read today. Thank you.

  2.  Marisa :: 6 May 2008 @ 10:53 am ::

    Oh. How sobering. I’m so sorry. Thank you for sharing your story.

  3.  Nancy R. :: 6 May 2008 @ 12:03 pm ::

    It is unlikely that a single contact would have changed the course of this woman’s life, but surely it would have helped her.

    We all have these moments of regret. Yes, we could have done better. No, someone else’s tragedy did not likely come about solely because we failed to intervene/do something differently. Next time, we’ll do more to listen to those promptings.

  4.  Justine :: 6 May 2008 @ 3:11 pm ::

    Oh, Lori, I know there are so many things I regret. Thank you for sharing this tender experience to remind me that I’m not the only one that sometimes doesn’t listen to what I know I should.

    Forgetting — and remembering — seem to be so central to our lives here. If we could just remember…

  5.  Maralise :: 6 May 2008 @ 3:16 pm ::

    Thank you so much for sharing.

  6.  chronicler :: 7 May 2008 @ 8:35 am ::

    This lesson was one I learned in much the same way. However, I was a busy mom! I had work, husband and children to juggle. We were in the middle of deciding to return to college and a myriad of decisions had to be made. I was expecting my thrid child. The prompting came. I filed it. Made the effort to bring it forward later in the week. The day after I re-filed the prompting, the phone rang…

    I have learned by difficult experiences to listen to the spirit. No matter how inconvenient it is. Still, there are times, in this imperfect life I have, the spirit has to scream out loud.

    Lori, I like your descriptive: “Go home. The house is going to burn down!” Thank you for sharing your story, and allowing mine.

  7.  Wendy :: 7 May 2008 @ 8:49 am ::

    Thank you for sharing this. Your thoughts are beautifully written.

  8.  Jennifer B. :: 7 May 2008 @ 1:32 pm ::

    Beautiful Lori. Thank you for sharing this story.

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Detail of painting "Morning Paper" by Sharon Furner, Featured Artist of the Summer 2008 issue

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Tuesday, 6 May 2008

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