Propping up

Another glorious summer’s day. Dusty isn’t so eager to walk on these warm days, so we only go for ten or fifteen minutes. If I were wearing her fur coat I don’t think I’d want to walk either. Snow is her preference.

As we approached our driveway, I noticed that two of the trees we planted thirty years ago seem to be leaning their leafy heads towards each other. And immediately I thought of a photograph I have. A precious photograph.

It is of my sister Judy, aged 2, and me aged all of 3 months or so, sitting on a picnic blanket. Well, Judy was sitting. I was leaning in against her and she was propping me up. 

That’s the way we grew up, I think. She was always the leader; I was leaning in, being propped up. We were always the best of friends but when I look back, I think that I tagged along behind, just copying the big sister I adored.

So we’re approaching Bastille Day, July 14^th, and this year it will be the 27^th anniversary of her death. When she died, I felt like part of me died. ‘Why does the sun go on shining?’ – lyrics from a 60s song went round and round in my head and that song still reminds me of that awful day. 

I had another in my life by then on whom I leaned of course, Don. And he has been wonderful. But nobody can take the place of a much-loved sister – or father, mother, brother, friend – except Jesus.

Jesus invites us to abide in him. To come to him and he will prop us up. I already knew the truth of that when Judy died, thankfully. But I think he’s been propping me up even more, ever since.

Just like those two trees in the driveway. Leaning in together.