Did I Eat a Rotten Grape?

Feeling too poorly to go to church was what she told me.

Hmmm.  I saw her yesterday.  She looked good; she looked – well - actually beautiful.  Her conversation revealed some family/friend issues, painful to me as I listened.  But it was nothing her strong personality had not dealt with over the years.  The good woman lived a life ever faithful to holding high standards.   She seemed to encourage habits in others that would help them have happy, prosperous lives.  I’m thinking, though, life’s imperfections affect each of us in different ways.  The truth is if you don’t bend, you will break – sooner or later.

This morning she volunteered no other excuse; simply sounded depressed about not coming to church.   

“Are you going to be okay,” I asked?

Then the words spilled out, telling me how blessed it was she didn't oversleep.  The dogs barking had her awake after 7 am but well before 8.  Expecting one of the others in the house would respond and answer their pets, she snuggled in for a bit more sleep.  The incessant barking continued.  The dogs obviously needed something.  (Why? O why didn’t someone help them?) She loved those four-legged friends.  Up she got. Downstairs she went – let the dogs out – turned off the lights that had been on in every room throughout the night (why? O why, she wondered?) – put coffee on – let the dogs back in – fed them – let one out and in again.  Finally with chilled grapes and a mug of coffee returned upstairs, 8 am, to get ready for church.   She wouldn’t stop her punishing thoughts.  Everyone else peacefully slept.  Munching the grapes, sipping her coffee, she thanked God for getting her up to be on her way.  But, she was emotionally and physically exhausted.  Be good to you was the message no one uttered, but she heard.  She would relax for a while.  Not feeling better soon enough, feeling frail, no longer able, she had to miss the fellowship of church.

She wondered, she said, “Did I eat a rotten grape?”