I already know it’s going to be a short night and Marti is sending me up to the attic to find a dress for this morning’s Women of Vision breakfast. We have one closet that serves our whole house, so I have half of Marti’s and my stuff in wardrobe boxes in the attic. Usually we do a big summer to winter/winter to summer switch-out twice a year, but this year we haven’t gotten the winter clothes out yet necessitating a trip up a rickety ladder and an inordinate amount of time searching through three U-Haul wardrobe boxes with a flashlight for a dress she doesn’t even know she wants until she sees it.
“Can’t you give me an idea what to look for?”
“I don’t even know what’s up there.”
Figures. Chandler is still up and he’s going to have to get up early to go with us before school. This is not working out well for me, I’m thinking as the night wears on. Outside it’s blustery at least for southern California standards. I like to gauge southern California temperatures by Big Bear Lake on my iPhone and it’s 19 degrees and snowing a little over an hour away. Here we’re getting hail, and from the attic it seems like it might penetrate the shingles. I’ve already brought down a few things with no luck.
“If you can find the pencil skirt that goes with this top that will work.”
It’s the first piece of good news I’ve had in half an hour. Now if only the skirt was where the top was. Not gonna happen. I’ve never realized how everything looks the same with only a flashlight for light. Two more trips up and down the ladder and we finally have a match leaving Marti happy and three hours of sleep for me.
“You need to get another perspective,” Marti says as she senses my frustration. “See it from my point of view.”
Suddenly for some reason I am thinking about the women at Isaiah House, especially the ones who sleep outside. There is a covered patio area that sleeps I’m guessing twenty. Most of the year it’s the place to be, but on a night like this, it has its challenges. I check my phone for Santa Ana and find 39 degrees. Lower still, I’m sure, with the wind chill and blowing rain.
Suddenly I’m thinking about perspective and remembering one of the patio women who showed me her spot and then pointed out under the roofline to a place between trees that opens to the sky. “Sometimes I can lie here and see the moon right there.” Marti’s right. It all depends on your perspective.
Stuck in a homeless shelter, or “Second star to the right, and straight on ’til morning.”
John Fischer The Catch 
Love the “Star Trek” reference! 🙂
Thanks for all that you do, John. My story is short and “to the point.” You never know when something you say will make a difference in someone’s life. I had a Pastor friend who stopped me in the parking lot one evening after a church meeting. She said, “Lois, when you said______, it made a real difference to me. Thank you so much.”
I cannot remember what I said or what she said. The importance is that we need to be mindful when we speak to people. You never know when something you say will impact another person….for good or bad.
Yes…talk about perspective. My father-in-law, Buck to everyone he came in contact with, went to Heaven on Sunday about noon, so his perspective now is certainly a lot different from that of his wife, Lois, whom he has left behind, and his daughter, and his two step daughters and step son (my husband). They were married to each other longer than they were to the mother/father, respectively, of their children. Buck was 96 years young! The only grandfather the grandchildren knew – a tall man, lots of great hair that the granddaughters loved to play with (and he let them willingly), and a big man all the grand kids loved to climb on! Yes, there are a few different perspectives here, including the perspective of the unbelievers in the family. It will make for some rich discussion this week and as Lois Taylor just posted, my prayer is that the believers in the family be mindful when we speak – you never know…
Susan, just read your comment and my dear Dad Tom went to Heaven on January 14, 2012 at the age of 83. We buried him yesterday at Ft. Leavenworth with full military honors. He was a pilot in the air force and used to say he wanted to die by crashing his fighter into the mountain. Well it wasn’t that way, thank goodness, but still a joyful flight to God to join our Mom. Tell Buck to say hi to Tom for me. Miss you Dad and Mom.
Leslie
Our loss; his gain! Sounds as if he left behind a good report.
Moon Shot! A grim realization of the reality some live!
As I mentally ‘step into the shoes’ of a homeless person, it scares me terribly. And it hits me hard how many aspects of it actually scare me… the loneliness, the fear of not being fed, not having family and friends around me, being rejected by society…. I slowly spiral downwards in this temporary ‘mental state’. It is a humbling experience to ‘look up’ and realize how blessed I am today. Nor am I implying that I am ‘above anyone’…
Keep up the work with the Isaiah House – not only do they need you (both of you), but I am sure you know by now that you both need them. It has changed the tone of this ‘conversation’ – this message you send out on a daily basis… but that is a good thing. I can hear the humbling affect it has had on your messages.
The past year has truly been a struggle for my wife & I. But we made it thru with plenty of overtime in prayer.
God bless,
Bruce
Yes. The big lesson is how much the same we are.