Wednesday Women: Edition 2

What I'm about to say is from my childhood memory. And it is not always reliable. Just ask my family. The things I remember are totally random and often completely insignificant. But these "memories" are tools the Lord has used to mold me into the woman I am today, and I want to honor that.

When I was a little girl living in Tennessee, we lived very close to my mom's best friend, Gina. I don't have a lot of experience with Gina as grown-up Amy, but in Amy Jill's little memory, she lives as this amazing, outgoing, hilarious woman who made life full of bright colors for anyone who knew her.

My sisters and I often played at her house. She had kids my little sisters' ages, and her next door neighbor had a little girl that I loved to play with. Gina had rules and boundaries, and we were expected to obey her as if she were our mother. We all feared disappointing her, not because she was heavy-handed with discipline, but because we adored her and couldn't stand to grieve her.

On snow days, we would trudge through the snow to her house for s'mores on the wood stove in her basement. We did little plays and shows in that same basement. We ran laps around her house and played badminton on the "court" set up between her house and the neighbor's.

Sometimes, the neighbor girl wasn't home and I would get the privilege of drying dishes in Gina's kitchen while she washed. It was in those moments that she asked me questions and showed interest in my little life. For all I remember, this may have happened only once, but if so, it must have been a pretty powerful afternoon for my little heart.

The day we moved away to New Mexico is a day I'll never forget (although I'm not sure I remember it accurately). We said good-bye to Gina and her sweet family last, and driving away in our Chevy Astro, we all cried.

In my memory, she smiles all the time. She has a thick southern accent and uses the word "girl" a lot. ("Girl, it's been forever since...." "Girl, I'm so happy to see you...") She loves fiercely and passionately. Yet she is quiet in spirit. She has a confidence in the Lord that produces joy. She is not mousy, but she is meek.

Gina taught me that loving Christ is not boring. She taught me that when the Lord gives you personality, you use it.

And she taught me that when I let my Lord's heart be the heart of my home, I make my home a sweet memory for anyone who enters it.