Tuesday Tales: Donuts in the Closet

 

A week ago, I gave the message at our church, and I shared this story that I’m not sure I’ve ever told (fully) on the blog before.

                Back in late 2018, Ryan’s mom moved in with us for a couple of weeks. She’d been released from the hospital following surgery to remove a brain tumor, and her husband was gone several hours in a row each day for work. She moved into our guest room, and we were happy to be able to tend to her in those important first post-surgery days.

                Unfortunately, we learned pretty quickly that I’m not a great nurse. My heart was in it, but I lacked skills. Everything went well when Ryan was home in the evenings and on the weekends, but during the days, when she and I were on our own, I didn’t do a very good job. And you know what made it worse? Nita was a nurse. She was so gracious toward me, but I’m sure she shook her head often.

                One day something happened, and short of looking it up in my journal, I don’t know what it was, but I crumbled entirely. I went into our bedroom, hid in our walk-in closet, and called Ryan, sobbing. I told him I was not cut out to be a nurse, and I didn’t know what to do. He tried to console me, but after we hung up, I resumed crying in the closet.

                A few minutes later, I heard a soft knock on the door. I pulled the door open just a crack and saw Ryan, holding a box of donuts. I let him into the closet, and he sat on the floor with me, holding me while I cried. Then he broke out the donut box, and we ate donuts together on the closet floor.

                In my message last week, I talked about the differences between artificial and authentic love, and I said that artificial love only shows up when it’s convenient, but authentic love will take time off work, show up at your house, sit on the floor of the closet with you, holding you while you cry, and eating donuts with you. (I said other things too, most of which were hopefully of a more spiritual nature, but this was one story I told.)

                A couple of days later, my dear friend Julie knocked on my office door. She sat down in my chair and said that the young ladies in the Bible study I used to help lead had been talking about that story I told. They knew I was walking a present-day hard road of my own with my parents’ health, and they wanted to “sit on the closet floor with me and eat some donuts”. Would I have some time to meet with them and let them just show some love?

                That in and of itself was nearly enough to make me cry. I love and miss these girls so much! An invitation to join them and share life for an evening? Yes, please!

                And so last night, after dinner, I made my way down some icy country roads to hang out with these dear friends for a couple of hours. They brought snacks, and we sat around telling stories until it was way later than I realized. It was so good to hear what’s happening in their lives and laugh until we cried.

                It’s not always been the easiest thing for me to find friend groups, so this group is extra special to me. Just sitting there last night, I had fresh gratitude that they have included me and reached out to show love during this part of my story.  I appreciate their kindness to me and their hospitality of “donuts in the closet.”