You're done ladybug

This is actually a pre-blog writing I shared a year ago today. 

This past Saturday night I wanted my momma's advise on my Monday night lesson. Honestly, this isn't at all new - I frequently want my momma's advise and frequently I want it about my lesson. On the surface, there was really nothing new about what was going on. But really there was.
We live on a compound - well, l use "compound" loosely. With conjoining properties, gma, mom & dad, Brian & I and Jeff all live within "I need a roll of toilet paper now!!!" distance. I printed my lesson, slipped on my rubber boots, trekked through the lot next door, checked on our garden, and meandered my way to gma's house.
Now, to all of those people who are taken back by the idea that a 92yrs old woman lives by herself, I scoff. Why did I go to gma's? Because my momma & gma have a routine every Saturday night. Gma's not winning any marathons and honestly, her strength has decreased more than I would like to admit to myself over the past month but mom & gma's routine is for gma to be able to have a bath - as long as she wants - and to have her hair curled afterward. She's just not strong enough to do it all alone.
My plan was to have mom read my lesson and leave so that I wasn't in the way when gma got done. But the older I get, the more I realize, things don't always go the way that I have them planned in my head. Gma got done WAY earlier than I thought she would. So I sat at the kitchen table, wondering if I should leave. Then I heard my momma call me. She needed help with something that was just out of her reach. I handed it to her and resumed my place at the table, now waiting to see if there was anymore help that was needed. Another five minutes or so went by and then my gma called to me.
I walked into her room & stood at the end of her bed. All of the activity seemed to have taken the strength out of her. Over the next 30-45 minutes, I stood there in that room, soaking in EVERY SINGLE SECOND. The thought that one day it would be me on the floor, rubbing the lotion in on my momma's tired, frail feet & legs was almost too much to hold the tears back. "You're done ladybug," words that I will remember for a long time to come - even though they will mean nothing to anyone else. I watched in amazement as they had this whole routine down with the comb and the curlers and the bobbie pins. Momma knew right where every curler went. And gma remembered exactly which curlers had been a gift from my gpa. "Ok Ms Butt, you're done." I giggled at their silliness. Ms Butt, Ms Burt - ha!
It was only a silly bath & momma was only curling gma's hair like she's done every Saturday for the past year. But the humility that my gma has shown in loosing some of her independence is a testimony of her confidence in who she is. And she'll tell you - She's a child of The King.
And my momma. The gentleness and tenderness that I watched that evening - she wasn't rushed or hurried or just doing it because she had to. She was serving her momma just because she loves her. She was pouring out all of that grace and mercy on the same tired and weary feet that had carried her all those years ago.
So on a weekend when my own family had left me feeling overlooked and unappreciated, God again gave me a small glimpse of who he is....who I'm supposed to be. God is faithful and he is loving. Jesus demonstrated humility that goes beyond all human comprehension. He is gentle and he is tender. And this time, he used two of the women I hold most dear, and a bath, to show me.