This potholder was made by our friend Sally’s mother.  She made many of them and when she left this earth, Sally gave each of us a potholder to take home.  And I tell you true, every time I have used this I bring to mind Sally’s mom to wonder if she made great strides in the world she graduated to.   I envision her head and shoulders above the crowd.

Her work still tells me that she was good because even in her terminus, endtimes, she cut straight and sewed straight.  Though I cannot prove so, my experience tells me that when our thought gives life and not takes it, it becomes our signature and our prayer.  When this becomes our knowledge and we see all of life’s connections, we wear it like a second skin so to speak.

When we hit a soft spot in the road, where the questions loom large and we wonder how much of a difference do we actually make, the answer looms large with a zero. And we can lament in this soft place for the rest of our days and wait for our name to be called. For called it will be though not as soon as we would like.

If we are fortunate, we have left a flap of the tent open, and a breeze will waft in. And in that breeze will be word from a someone we have touched with either a word or an action, or simply a touch of what we have no idea. It will bring tears if we are distraught  and relief and a reason to pick up our lives and begin again.

The heavens count on this to happen because workers are few and not many show up.  So, they prevail in ways unimaginable to alert who can be of  help. We the ones who have wondered our input with resulting fatigue, are surprised who we hear from.

We have people who tell us because of affection, that we have no idea how far our work goes and how many are affected by what we do.  When we the workers do not hear once in a while, we are wondering if it is worth the effort what we do.   And oftentimes, truth be told, we are the ones  who are the beneficiaries of what we do. More often than not, because we made the effort, we became stronger and more courageous.

And in  the process though it might have taken a lifetime, we learned a few things, and among them was the fact that our God or god, works only as hard as we do.  What that portends for us cannot be imagined at the outset of the lifetime.

When this hits us is when life itself has presented more on our plates than what we can bear.  We can be assured on this lovely planet, that the calamities rising will be commensurate with what the cosmos thinks we should be dealing with and handling with expertise if we are in the game of searching for our sainthood.

If we are lamenting too long and the heavens are not ready to let loose a worker because as I said  often, workers are few and hard to find.  But comes to us a day when we think absurdly, is this all there is?  Then comes our reason to be;  to enhance life  for all.  We may not know for sure, but I have no time to waste.  Can you?

Just a potholder?  I like to think she was a prayer with a nudge to do her very best.  And hope I do likewise.