My brother died last week, so we have been recalling how courageously he lived. If my parents had followed the advice of the doctors to put Bob in a long term hospital after he had polio at age 5, Bob would never have been rehabilitated. He would never have ended up in DC where he worked under both Republican and Democratic administrations to promote wise policies regarding energy. He was so humble that when he told me he had a designated phone for the secretary, I thought he meant his administrative assistant. He meant the Secretary of Energy. And he did it all living in chronic pain.
My best friend of over 30 years will be a constant model of courage and inspiration of endurance for me, and that mostly stemming from her relationship to the Lord. The world is almost consistently cruel to poor, disabled Black women, especially if no medical professional can find an easy “fix” and is challenged by her intellect, which expects that they should at least be able to help in some way, even if it is just to treat her kindly and be honest about their inability. They would rather punish her for having rare conditions that challenge their sense of command. She has taught me how in everything, wait on and for God, and then act.
But as I was thinking about the courage to act, an episode from my childhood came to me, and I recognized it as an important element in the building of courage, at least for me. When I was about 10 years old, my mother told me to prune the 2 flowering bushes in our front yard. Now, my mother could be quite cruel in often unpredictable and creative ways, and to defy her could be health- threatening depending on the day. The bushes she wanted me to prune were full of a variety of bees, and I found myself caught between a rock and a hard place; do I protest and risk her wrath, or do I carry on and get stung – possibly many times.
As I stood there paralyzed, an older neighbor boy named Joey noticed and sensed my fear from across the street. He came over to ask what was wrong, and I told him my dilemma. He said I didn’t need to be afraid, that the bees were so busy with gathering pollen that they wouldn’t bother me. He then went over and began petting the backs of the bees, who completely ignored him. His tenderness toward me, and reassurance and instruction of how to approach the job carefully, gave me the confidence and courage I needed to do a simple chore made terrifying by circumstances.
We can stir one another to courage, and it can actually be in a powerful tenderness that it can happen; especially when courage is needed in the face of perennial hostility. God is always willing to express this tenderness. Comfort [not comfortableness] can give courage.
Two beautiful stories about two equally beautiful and courageous souls. I love the line, "the bees were so busy with gathering pollen that they wouldn't bother me." Oh that we would all be busy bees gathering our own pollen and not disturbing others.
My brother died last week, so we have been recalling how courageously he lived. If my parents had followed the advice of the doctors to put Bob in a long term hospital after he had polio at age 5, Bob would never have been rehabilitated. He would never have ended up in DC where he worked under both Republican and Democratic administrations to promote wise policies regarding energy. He was so humble that when he told me he had a designated phone for the secretary, I thought he meant his administrative assistant. He meant the Secretary of Energy. And he did it all living in chronic pain.
He sounds like an incredible human being who made the most of his time here. Condolences for your loss and strength to you and your family.
I think my brother was representative of most civil servants who quietly sacrifice much to faithfully serve our country. They deserve our support.
My best friend of over 30 years will be a constant model of courage and inspiration of endurance for me, and that mostly stemming from her relationship to the Lord. The world is almost consistently cruel to poor, disabled Black women, especially if no medical professional can find an easy “fix” and is challenged by her intellect, which expects that they should at least be able to help in some way, even if it is just to treat her kindly and be honest about their inability. They would rather punish her for having rare conditions that challenge their sense of command. She has taught me how in everything, wait on and for God, and then act.
But as I was thinking about the courage to act, an episode from my childhood came to me, and I recognized it as an important element in the building of courage, at least for me. When I was about 10 years old, my mother told me to prune the 2 flowering bushes in our front yard. Now, my mother could be quite cruel in often unpredictable and creative ways, and to defy her could be health- threatening depending on the day. The bushes she wanted me to prune were full of a variety of bees, and I found myself caught between a rock and a hard place; do I protest and risk her wrath, or do I carry on and get stung – possibly many times.
As I stood there paralyzed, an older neighbor boy named Joey noticed and sensed my fear from across the street. He came over to ask what was wrong, and I told him my dilemma. He said I didn’t need to be afraid, that the bees were so busy with gathering pollen that they wouldn’t bother me. He then went over and began petting the backs of the bees, who completely ignored him. His tenderness toward me, and reassurance and instruction of how to approach the job carefully, gave me the confidence and courage I needed to do a simple chore made terrifying by circumstances.
We can stir one another to courage, and it can actually be in a powerful tenderness that it can happen; especially when courage is needed in the face of perennial hostility. God is always willing to express this tenderness. Comfort [not comfortableness] can give courage.
Two beautiful stories about two equally beautiful and courageous souls. I love the line, "the bees were so busy with gathering pollen that they wouldn't bother me." Oh that we would all be busy bees gathering our own pollen and not disturbing others.
Thank you Jemar, and a special thanks to Myrlie Evers-Williams.
Appreciate you reading, Norman!
Thank you for summary of life of service Mrs. Evers- Williams gave to us. Hope she is always remembered.
She lived a remarkable life and is still alive today! The past is not so long ago.
Amen. Myrlie-Evers Williams a true story of “Never Give Up”.🙏🏾