Guest Column: Seasons of life

I was Hattiebelle’s certified home health aide and part of the Hospice team. I had known her less than a month but she had already found a permanent place in my heart.

I turned to say “thank you” but she was sleeping again. I wondered if she would still be alive when I arrived for work the following day. She was so tired.

The chill of evening had settled in as I unlocked the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. I was looking forward to home and the aroma of chili cooking in the crock pot. I pulled out of my parking space and up to the top of the hill. There I was greeted by the serpentine swirl of the smog as it drifted across the face of the sun. It was eerily beautiful and rather peaceful appearing. The scene brought to mind a few words of a song I had learned as a child: “Day is dying in the west; heaven is touching earth with rest.”

As I drove along, my thoughts drifted back to this morning. Before work I had forced myself out of bed into a sweatsuit and on to the park for a walk. The baby pink and blue on the eastern horizon announced the birth of the day. The air was clear and crisp. The snap-crackle of the leaves as they crunched underfoot counted cadence to my steps and heralded the approach of fall. It seemed as if it was just yesterday when the trees were bursting with blossoms. The fall leaves of autumn reminded me that winter would follow close behind.

Could it be that I am in the fall of life with winter fast approaching? An icy finger traced my spine while tears blurred my vision. So many dreams had blossomed. Will I have the time to see them fulfilled?

Feeling like the barren branches of winter, I suddenly realized I was home. I pressed the garage door opener and pulled into the garage. The welcoming aroma of chili greeted me even before I walked into the house. The phone was ringing, a quivery voice wept, “Hattiebelle died shortly after you left. She had a smile on her face and was the picture of peace. Thank you for loving her. God bless you.”

Hanging up the phone, I let the tears flood my face like warm rains of spring. Hattiebelle’s winter had brought a beautiful blossom of love into my life.

Her sweet goodbye kiss felt like a special touch of God’s tender love. Is that what it means in God’s word in Romans 8:28 when it says, “All things work together for good if we love God and are called according to his purpose”? I believe through all the painful experiences of life, he has a purpose for us. I began to experience the “all things” that the verse speaks of. Through Hattiebelle’s tender goodbye kiss and her peaceful death I realized that Jesus’ love covers all things — even the walk through the valley of death. I am in the later years of my life and have experienced crunched dreams and also joyful times. The lord was with me through all of them. After all, wasn’t it a barren cross on which the savior stretched out his arms with love and died? Wasn’t it his tears of sorrow that watered the fertile ground of human hearts and brought forth hope for the “all things?”

Though feeling weary and deeply saddened, I was warmed by the friendly feel of home, the taste of well-seasoned chili and the thoughts of rest. I shall always remember the day that I experienced Hattiebelle’s sweet kiss that reminded me of God’s everlasting love. In Roman’s 8:32 we are told, “He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him freely give us all things.”

Tomorrow I will pull on my sweats and crunch a few leaves. On the eastern horizon God will give birth to a new day. Maybe the angels will wrap it in pink and blue clouds, a gift to use as we choose. No matter what season of life we may be in, the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ gives us new life, and suddenly it feels like spring.

-- Sharon Lamb is a member of the Porterville Evangelical Free Church.