Love Thy Neighbor.

Last week I had a post dedicated to the fact that the AG and I are packing up the family band and moving back to Texas. It's not an easy decision, but one that was prayerfully considered and is now looked at with great expectation.

Just ask Remi. I told her we were moving to Texas to which she replied, "How about the zoo?" Which I can tell you doesn't mean "how about we move to the zoo" but rather, "how about you take me to the zoo and quit your yappin'."

Some of you were so kind to email me, leave me a post, give me a call or just throw an arm around my neck at church. Thank you. Others of you didn't do any of the above even though we've known each other for a coon's age. That's okay...as my Granny so famously says, "Don't make no difference to me - we're all gonna go to heaven happy." Amen.

One of the things I wrote about in that post was this...

And one more thing...would you pray specifically for this? About twelve miles from my house here in TN is a beautiful cemetery that holds the memory of our son. The thought of moving 700 miles away from it makes me physically sick. I cannot imagine how I will feel the day I drive away as I can barely stand to think of it over 10 seconds at a time now. I could use some special comfort in this area. God is good, I know this.

Now, I'll tell you right now - I have never been much for the "victim" mentality. And by that I mean I've never been big on poor, poor, pitiful me. I share my grievances and the depth of my heartbreak with very few people. So for me to write those words last week were quite a big deal for me. The reason being is that the pain of knowing I am leaving that grave has racked me with both guilt and absolute panic. What may seem silly to you makes me physically sick. I cannot fathom the moment that we load up in the car and pull out of town. And it will not be because of the friends we've made or the church we call home (though leaving those things can hurt a bit, too).

It's because as of now I have the ability to go stand beside something every time it snows...to check on him...to make sure it's not too cold.

It's because, if I want to, I can drive by there on a Tuesday afternoon with an ice cream cone and tell him how beautiful the weather is and something funny Remi said.

It's because every time there is a thunderstorm I go the next day to make sure his flowers are okay - and there are no leaves on his headstone.

It's because whenever I get the notion I put Rocco in the car and take him up there and tell him all about his big brother who is patiently waiting to play some flag football in heaven.

Those are the things that will make leaving beyond painful.

I suppose all of us, if we were honest, could agree that there are those scriptures that we've heard a thousand times over. And they still. Mean. Nothing. Not because we don't count them important - we do. But because we've never had to apply them. Only when words become tangible do words truly become meaningful. When words come alive they make their biggest change.

For instance, remember this one?

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments. (Matthew 19)

Two days after I wrote the post on us moving I received an email. It was from a former neighbor of mine. I don't go to church with her, I never see her in the grocery store, our children don't attend the same schools and our husbands don't work together. She was my neighbor years ago - later she became my friend. And it was her email that said this...

I want you to know that the first thing that came to my mind when I read the first sentence that you were leaving was having to leave Elisha. I know that is breaking your heart to move away from him. Please know that for some reason that feels more powerful than just sympathy for a friend, you, David and Elisha are never far from my mind. I am so thankful for the blessing of Remi and Rocco in your lives. I know we are not best friends but I feel that God is calling me to offer this to you – I would be honored to do whatever you wished concerning Elisha in your place. I don’t know how often you visit his grave or place flowers or talk to him there, but if you would like to know that someone is caring for him here I would be more than willing to do that for you both.

My neighbor showed me love. My neighbor offered to do for me what I cannot do for myself. My neighbor.

Last night, I received this email...

It would be a great honor if you want me to visit Elisha's grave as often as you'd like to check on things. In a small way, it would be like I'm doing it for her (my mother-in-law who has passed away), too. But ONLY if you really want, and ONLY if you REALLY, REALLY want me to.

I go to church with her. I'm not sure what service she goes to for we rarely ever see each other. She doesn't know my husband's name and I don't know hers. We've never been to each other's house, never shared sweet tea on my porch. She was just a willing servant. Someone who offered to give a hand to someone who needed it. She doesn't owe me that courtesy, and goodness knows I'm undeserving, but the love she has for the Lord supersedes my need or her convenience.

That, my lovelies, is how you love a neighbor.

There's something else you can say about "neighbors" like this - you dare not tell their names because they are rarely ever in it for the recognition. "Neighbors" like this give when no one is looking, serve when no one knows and love when no one is counting. "Neighbors" like this are few and far between. And yet they are God's best weapon. I know He must be beyond pleased at their obedience.

One of them told me in their email that they feared I might find their request "odd." Odd? Really? Remember this, friends, what you may find as odd - someone else might find as oil.

Soothing, healing oil.

And just so you two "neighbors" know...I would be more honored and feel more loved to have the two of you check on my boy than to have 50 people I might have had to ask.

Thank you for all the oil.

Love,
Melissa