Life is extraordinary in it's simplicity.

An old woman died the other day. No, no, I'm not as morbid as it may seem. She was a member of my church. She's been there since before I was born, at least, I remember her for ever. I remember, when I was 10 she gave my sister and I a Christmas card with $10 in it, $5 each. She had messy writing.

Every service she would ask prayer for her family. She was a true intercessor. Who will carry on her burden? She was always hopeful, ever mentionning the slightest indication that a family member was beginning to realize the depth of God's love for them. Every Sunday, until we changed the way we take prayer requests. Now we write them down before service so that Pastor Grant can keep them and read them out. But whenever he would ask the congregation, her hand was always raised.

I remember one New Years, when we were having testimony time, she stood and shared for over an hour, or so it felt. I was probably 10 or 11, maybe even 12... She took sooooooooo long that finally whoever was leading the service had to, as politely as possible, interrupt. So that someone else would have a chance to talk. I wish I had listened to her more. Sure, she rambled, but I'm a rambler too. I shall be quite lonely if I have no one to talk to when I am her age.

And when my nephews came to live with me 3 years ago, she encouraged me. She said I was brave, wonderful. She marvelled at their beauty, exclaimed they were such good boys. Told me I was brave.

An advocate is someone who, among other things, can speak on your behalf. For those in my church family who understand the sadness and frustration that comes when you know someone you love is missing out on the Greatest Love of their life, Sister Clara Blakesly was our advocate. Eloquently, and with deep passion and conviction, she loved.

Why did I say that life is extraordinary in it's simplicity? I don't know. It just is.

Oh yes- today is my birthday.