Dorothy Joan Egan

Fondest memories of my grandma: 
-Slumber parties at her house when we were little. I remember one time we woke up really early and decorated her kitchen in crate paper and balloons and signs, just for fun.  She was tickled and proud of us, always.  
-Measuring ourselves on the back door of her laundry room as we grew up
-The night I called her when I was in college (the first time), and my phone had a bad connection, and she thought I had been kidnapped and was speaking in code trying to see if I was in trouble. 
-Wearing her earrings on my wedding day
-Two days after having Jeffrey, her saying, "you still look pregnant"
-lunches at Lyons, Marie Calendars, Red Robin, and Saint Mary's cafeteria
-Her pink volunteer uniform from the hospital
-Her giddiness when she would buy loud annoying Christmas toys for us that would drive my dad crazy.
-quotes like, "yoo-hoo!", "hey, friend" "so, whatcha know?" 
-Jeffrey pushing her in her wheelchair
-Her letting me drop her off at work and use her car when I first had my license. 
-Her hatred of nail polish any time I wore it. 
-Everyone calling her the nutty nut lady during the holidays when she would go around selling nuts. 

She was very stoic, and never bared her soul to anyone. Never in my life did I hear her complain. Not once. She was wonderfully stubborn and blunt. She was the strongest woman I know.  I had the blessing of praying very quietly in her ear a couple hours before she passed and told her how much she was loved and how thankful we were for her, what a wonderful blessing she has been in our lives. I told her that Jesus loved her and was waiting for her, and even though her eyes were closed her eyebrows raised at the mention of His name, it was a precious moment that I will never forget. 
Even though it's been almost a year since I've posted the Irish Blessing, here it is again for you, Grandma:  

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

I love you. 

It Only Takes One

It takes as little as one person to make another feel small, unimportant, stupid, or insignificant.  It's something that always stings, but penetrates deeply when it comes from someone you love.  We've all done it. We've hurt people with our words, our actions, our judgement, our silence, our lack of interest. 
Proverbs 18:21 says that the tongue has the power of life and death. 
Yikes...that IS powerful. LIFE. AND. DEATH.
Am I speaking life or death into others' lives? There are ONLY those two choices. My prayer is: that God would continue to convict me when I speak death of any kind to any person, and that He would continue to be merciful to me when I blow it and hurt someone with my words that would cause them to feel as if they are anything less than wonderful.  I want to be a LIFE speaker when my mouth opens. 

On the flip side, it only takes ONE person to make another feel full, very important, smart, and wonderfully significant.  I think there are people who are naturally gifted in this area.  They don't have to try very hard.  They give their words, their actions, their time and their money all with no strings attached or ulterior motives in order to edify someone else on a regular basis. Others don't have that natural gift, but instead choose to be selfless often enough that it becomes a part of who they are. I am blessed to have both types in my life and hope that I can grow more and more in those areas. 

My shout out this week goes to Peggy Udvare. Because of who you are in words and actions I was able to feel God's love.  It was as if he used you to whisper to my heart, "Erin, I see you, I see what you're doing, I love you and I'm proud of you". I don't care how old you are, we ALL need that sometimes.

TENDER HEART

I was trying to stay warm under my covers for a few minutes longer this morning while Molly was in my bathroom blow drying her hair.  It was still dark, 6:30 ish. In comes Ellie to my room, crying from deep inside her little body and crawls under my covers with me.  She said she had a terrible dream and just her saying those words made her start crying even harder.  I held her tightly, stroking her hair and kissing her cheeks, and asked her if she wanted to tell me about it.  She cried slower and calmed herself down enough to say, "we were all at a big family dinner and this boy walked up and wanted to play ball with Jeffrey, while they were playing ball, the boy was hit with the ball and he died" as the last couple words came out her gut wrenching sobs began all over again. After hugging her tightly, rocking her and talking it through, she calmed down. As I sat there cuddling with her, my mind wandered to the other night when she and I were having another conversation. She had asked questions about children in Africa, and what their lives were like and how we were going to help them while we are there.  I told her how different their lives were from ours, but was not graphic or harsh.  This too, brought her to tears. She was even embarrassed that she was crying and didn't think that I noticed that she had completely shifted her body and her eyes to finish the conversation.   Then I remembered back a couple years to when we had taken Ellie to talk to a counselor because she had been experiencing some health issues that had no end result or diagnosis and we wanted to make sure there wasn't more going on that we were overlooking. After she met with Ellie,  I remember the counselor saying to me, 'Ellie is extremely sensitive to the world around her. She cares deeply for people she doesn't even know, children sick in hospitals, people who are hungry, etc. She thinks about them and worries about them'.   I know children can be sensitive, but usually by definition that means they get their feelings hurt easily, are easily offended, or prone to tantrums. ( I have these other types of sensitive children). My heart melts knowing that Ellie has a different kind of sensitivity in her. It has been born into her for a purpose.  It humbles me to a place where I crave that type of sensitivity; the kind that doesn't see self, but sees others.  I am praying to have a tender heart like hers, for my heart to break for the same things that break God's heart.