Maybe I’m Amazed
Amaze. Amazed. Amazing. Perhaps some of the most overworked words in the lexicon. Usually, I pay little attention when someone lavishes those words upon others. “I couldn’t have done it without my amazing friends.” “This -insert award here - really belongs to my dear husband who never fails to amaze.” I’m amazed, simply amazed.”

So what do we say when we really are amazed? How can I express my amazement? And not have it lost in the amazment dross clogging the atmosphere?

It’s been almost four weeks since my dreaded surgery and I’m still pondering my blessings. (The mere fact that I lived to be operated upon is a wonderful testimony to my family’s patience during my months of crankiness and gloom.) So many people have been so good to me.

The kids have been great. One in particular went way beyond the call of filial duty.* Without shortchanging the other five, what else can I say but “Fran is amazing.” This was the child that I once despaired of. We had a rough couple of years, in the late ‘90’s and early ‘00’s. I would have bet good money that she would have been my cause of death rather than my most loving caregiver and trusted companion. And now what can I say? She is amazing. But the word has been devalued.

(*CAUTION: NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH - ESP. MEN: The night before surgery I was curled up in bed feeling apprehensive,
achy, possessing legs of a Sasquatch. In pain, but with enough life left in me to dread having to have my legs scrutinized by strangers. Fran, unbidden, came into my room and proceeded to shave my legs. I don't know if I would have wanted to do that for my mother. That is love. Just one example of the outrageous, lavish love that was poured out on me. And another reminder that we needn't always go far to find a way to serve our Lord in his 'distressing disguise.')