What Brenda Said

We're home.  We were in Chicago at Rush Hospital for 48 nights.  I know that's how many nights because I counted.  Taylor is healing.  Slowly.  Very slowly.  I watch every single little bitty nuance of a sign that his body makes to see if he is really getting better.  And then I hold my breath and say all kinds of  "Please" prayers. Basically, in very crasse non-medical-ese, the neurosurgeon built a cage around Taylor's spine.  I can't even stand to look at the x-rays yet.  It is all too much. 
    But anyway, during a welcome home dinner the other night, my friend Brenda said, "You know, Marianne, you just have to let God be God."   Yes, that sentence: Let God be God.  Thank goodness that none of us can see inside each other's minds/bodies or my friends would have witnessed a tighening, a clutching, a white-knuckling of, "Why that's impossible..... he can't do anything without MY help." 
    You see, my DNA was rewired when I was very very young.  I became a care-taker--not by choice.  My brain chemistry was forged; I somewhere got the message that nothing happens in my my life---or close-by life without me helping out God---and all of the spirits of the holy universe.  I just don't know how to let it BE.  So, Brenda was suggesting something that, for me, is huge---and hard---nearly impossible.  But I listened.  And was still. And yearned.
     Metaphorically, I live my life leaving sticky notes for God all over the place. "Ah-hem, while you were sleeping, you may have missed...,"  or, "I am not sure if you're aware of this but..." 
Holy Cow!  As my mother used to shout at me, "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??"    Yes, I guess I am  really giving myself a whole bunch of power, right?   Oh lordy me.
      And so this week, I got a message from Taylor----actually he had been giving it to me for a long long time, but I finally noticed it. And for me, it goes right along with what Brenda said---at least, for me, they go hand-in-hand.   When Taylor wants my attention, he does not say, "Listen."  No, Taylor says to me,  "Mama, Wake up."   I can  be driving or eating a sandwich or washing dishes and if he wants me to know something or be aware of something , he says, "Wake up!" 
    This really has intrigued me this week.  Wow! My very own sticky note---from whom?
And are there other sticky notes just for me out there if I just pay attention.....I mean if I just "Wake up"?  I thought I was the only one leaving messages/signs/notes/prayers/pleadings in this life. 
Wow oh wow.   
Let God be God.
There are sticky notes all around---signs---that have been posted.
And, they have gifts and messages for our lives.
Wake up.
I think I will.