Turing something ugly and painful into something beautiful

   The last Sabbath before Vivian left for New Zealand, we had communion services at church. I had known about it the week before, as had she, and I had been praying that we could participate in the foot washing together. That Sabbath, I had a fight with my husband at church moments before we were to go down for the foot washing. I felt horrible, and I did not feel I was in the proper spirit to serve Vivian, so I took Kyrre’s dad down to the mens section, and waited in the kitchen to take him back up stairs.

Upon seating him next to Vivian’s son, and returning with my things, Vivian pounced me verbal. “Where were you! I was waiting for you and looking for you but I didn't find you! Where were you!” I could see the tears she was fighting back, even though she was trying to be playful. And when I turned to answer her my tears were also sitting in my eyes. She immediately pulled back in shock.

I left had to rush to the bathroom to cry. To be truthfully I sobbed. I was already ashamed at fighting with Kyrre, and at church, and had dismissed the little voice in my head saying Vivian was looking for me reasoning it away with, "Why would she be looking for me?"

I knew it was a lie to myself. Of course she was looking for me and belittling to myself to even think such thoughts, but it was what I thought. And now, twice in the same week, I had disappointed my friend. She had come by work that Thursday to see me, and I had left 10 mins early to run an errand that had suddenly come up. After church, and later that night, I explained to her what had happened and she had forgiven me. She had told me another lady had come down a bit late and didn't have a partner, so she had washed her feet.

I thought that was the end of the story. But it wasn't.

Two Sabbaths ago we had communion. I saw the lady Vivian had served in tears, and I knew she remembered the last time she had been with Vivian. Later, during the time we had sharing, she got up in tears and told the story of how that particular Sabbath she was depressed, hurting in her body, and was in desperate need of human caring. She told how Vivian and come to her and asked to serve her, and she had accepted. And she told how she had felt healed in body and mind after the service. She had written a poem which she sent to Vivian later that week and she shared it with us.

I nearly cried. To think that God took my ugly fight, one that I should not have had, and turned it in to a beautiful blessing for one of his hurting children. I know Vivian was thinking that too as I had told her about the fight and what it had involved. I am just touched that she also found out how God changed this around before she died, and that the lady she served, even though she does not know the reason why, was the recipient of Gods blessings.