So last week was Thanksgiving week. They don’t celebrate that down here. It’s a sort of United States thing from before there was a United States. It sneaks up on us. Sometimes because of the lack of commercialism or cultural significance where we live, we don’t realize until it’s a mere few hours away.
Like many Americans we were perusing our news outlet, Facebook, and were tipped off early to Turkey Day. You should know I generally stay away from the topic du jour. I usually don’t write about a particular holiday or hot button issue. It’s not that I don’t care. I just feel that with 500 billion blogs out there covering those things, my opinions have probably been covered somewhere. Why contribute to the madness?
However, today I will break that form. I read a number of the “I am thankful for…” posts and status updates last week. They made me run through my own list of things I am thankful for. But, I will refrain from posting that long list of things just like yours and focus on one.
Louise Carlton is not my grandmother.
She may as well have been for the impact she has made in my life. She chose to love me like one. Louise left this earth Wednesday. She had a date set to spend this Thanksgiving in high style. She was seated at the table with her Father.
While the rest of us were down here echoing platitudes about how we were thankful for this or that, Louise was staring into the face of her Creator, no doubt thanking Him.
I met Louise around 1982. I was 12 years old. She was a slightly round woman with gray hair. She had a contagious laugh and a huge smile. More than anything she loved Jesus. I mean LOVED Him. The woman was a prayer machine.
If you knew her then you could easily understand why I think she was on a first-name basis with the Trinity. I could imagine that as she closed her eyes and began to pray, God looked over and said,
“No problem, Louise, I’ll take a look at that for you.”
She was the picture of humility. If you even mentioned a compliment she would blush. The irony of that was her ability to cut through the garbage. She had strong opinions. They were nearly as strong as her love for others.
I was one she loved. She loved me so much that she never hesitated to tell me when she thought I was missing the mark. She would say something like,
“Well, it’s just what I think, but…”
She respected folks’ need for an out, but there was none. Her wisdom and experience with God won out every time.
She was honest. She told me when we announced we were going into the mission field that she didn’t like it. That she was feeling selfish and wanted us to stay. She then confessed that if God had called us, she would be a fool to want anything different for us.
Louise Carlton prayed for us. She escorted our names to the very throne of God. If she presented us to Him then I felt sure He knew who we were. She was that kind of woman. Today we have a tremendous hole in our prayer cover because Louise went to heaven.
Join me in praying for her family as they mourn their loss.
Thank you to her family for sharing her with us. We truly regret not being able to get back to the U.S. for the funeral.
Thank you God for loaning Louise to us.
Who prays for you? Have you been adopted by someone’s love?