no matter what you call them, we all need to have them!

Friday, September 8, 2023, I had tendon surgery on my left ankle. This surgery comes with a two-week, non-weight-bearing period. As I am a woman that looks like this…

when I try to use crutches, Brett and I decide that a knee scooter is what works best for me. The problem with knee scooters is that although insurance will pay for crutches, they consider a knee scooter a luxury and they will not pay for them.

Here’s where having a community is important.

Alice (name changed to avoid any issues), a member of my apartment community, heard me talking about how expensive knee scooters are and she said, “Do not go purchase one. My mom had to use one and I’ll see if you can borrow hers.” A few days later she calls and says, “You can borrow Dorthy (scooter) and Toto (basket).” Awesome! I tell her, “Assure your mom that Scarecrow is grateful!”

We have great neighbors! Vikkie came up and brought me a six-pack of Sprite and barkThins dark chocolate, almond, and sea salt…I’m glad it wasn’t a bigger bag because I could have eaten it all at once! Renee and Momma Ruth brought me some beautiful flowers from the local farmers market. Zoe, an amazing 20-something and soon-to-be police officer, brought me a Chick-fil-A tea, the best tea you can anywhere! Each of these ladies has checked in on me in one way or another.

Elaine is my small group leader and she messaged to see what I needed. I told her one of my biggest struggles is fixing myself lunch since I have to stand on one foot. The next day, she, Caryn, and Marta ordered Chick-fil-A and had it delivered to my house. They also had Panera delivered for dinner that night for Brett and me.

As those who know me will attest, I like being around people. I do not like being isolated, so being non-weight-bearing, in a second-floor apartment, with Brett at work messed with my head a bit. By Wednesday my body was coming off the pain meds they had put me on and I was weepy!

Thursday morning, the message came through, “Are you up for company?” My response? “Sure!” Kim, a young lady we served with in eSwatini and someone I have walked through some hard things with over the last year, drove 3 1/2 hours to come and serve me, and with her heart leading, she did. I have been known to “fuss” at Kim about not calling me when she is struggling. When I was telling her what I was like on Wednesday, she looked at me and said, “Why didn’t you call me?” I’m glad she didn’t actually make me eat crow, but in my head, I was eating crow. She wanted to be here for me like I have been there for her and I almost didn’t let her. And ya’ll, that is wrong.

Kim took me to the doctor’s office, cleaned the betadine off my legs, and lotioned my feet while saying, “I don’t do feet, but I’ll do your feet.” She cleaned my house, washed my bedding and my towels, and made sure I was drinking my water…yes, I need somebody to remind me!

Mom and Dad call daily to discuss school and church. Hannah calls every morning to see how I’m doing. Melissa sends me songs of encouragement. John, my grandson, responds to the thankful text I send him with his own thankful text and sometimes they make me giggle and sometimes they make me tear up.

Then there is Brett. He is the best. Anything I need or want (within reason), he’s there. He cooks, cleans, makes sure I don’t get too cocky going down the steps (up is not a problem), grocery shops, and loads the dishwasher. I will say it again…He. Is. The. Best.

Finally, we were not created to do this life alone. We were meant to do it within a community of people who have our back when life gets tough. So! Whatever you call it…tribe, community, peeps, dudes, bruhs, sisters…whatever word you choose, find those people you can depend on, and remember, crow does not taste like chicken!

An open letter to everyone, everywhere:

Names are important!

I have a name. My name is Wendy. I love my name as it’s the name my parents picked out for me. My name was first used in literature by J.M. Barrie as a lead character in the beloved childhood book, Peter Pan.

Teachers in elementary school would get my first name, Wendy, mixed up with my last name, Robbins, and call me Robin. I had to remind a coach in high school that my name is not “hey you,” it’s Wendy. My name is Wendy.

And, thanks to The Association, Everyone Knows it’s Windy, has, on occasion, made my life miserable.

Names are important!

What in the world does this have to do with the title of this blog? I’m glad you asked! Let me tell you!

Last week, I had to pick up two of my grandsons from their school. Their names are, for the sake of this blog, Otis, and Floyd. As I pulled up to tell them who I was picking up, I was asked, “Who are you picking up?” My response was, “Otis and Floyd *Burgermeister.” Let me stop here and say, I know there are a lot of children that get picked up. I know it’s been a long day of school and people are ready to go home. I really do understand all of that. But! I would have rather heard them say, “The “Burgermeister boys or the Burgermeisters,” than what was said. They said, “Otis and the brother.” When I asked what the person inside the building called them, they said, “Otis and the brother.” For four days I picked them up. Every single day saying, “I’m here to pick up Otis and Floyd,” and every single day I heard, “Otis and the brother.” His name is not, nor will it ever be, “and the brother.”

Names are important!

I’ve sat on this blog for an entire week, trying to figure out why in the world it bothered me so much. I have finally come to a conclusion. Calling Floyd, “and the brother” takes away his identity. His identity has suddenly become “the brother.” And while being Otis’ brother is a part of his identity as he is the brother to Otis, it’s not his entire identity. He’s Floyd. A gregarious, energetic, funny guy that loves to explain puns to his Paw-Paw, play soccer and video games, talk incessantly (like his Bubbie), take tests, and give a hug that will last you for days. He doesn’t like sleeping in the room by himself or reading (I’m hoping that is changing). He is the complete opposite of Otis, who needs time to decompress after school, is just now getting to the place he likes to give a side hug, loves reading and video games, and would rather spend time indoors than out. Each of them is quite unique, and so are their names.

Names are important!

Let me try and land this plane. If someone is wearing a name tag when you are checking out, say thank you and use their name. If someone tells you their name, try to remember it and use it the next time you see them. If you can’t remember it, don’t be embarrassed, just ask them again. If you use the wrong pronunciation, just think of what happened to John Travolta in the clip below…

…and try again, there’s no way your mess-up could be as bad as John’s. Remembering names can be hard and it can be frustrating when you don’t remember, but try.

Finally, when someone tells you they are picking up Otis and Floyd, remember, in the time you said, “and the brother,” you could have just as easily said, “Floyd.”

Names are important!

Revelation 12:11 (NKJV) And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony, for they did not love their lives even unto death.

On Sunday, Brett and I had the opportunity to share our story with our youth pastor, Fabian, and his beautiful wife, Bethany. I will keep it short for those who do not know our story. Brett had every Biblical right to leave our marriage and had it not been for God and his redemptive power, that could have been what happened. But God, two of the most underestimated words in the Bible, brought us out! As a result, our marriage is the strongest it has ever been!!

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony, for they did not love their lives even unto death.

The question came up about shame. How did I get over the shame of what I had done? I told them how God spoke to me at a Women’s Conference in Ridgecrest, NC, while Becky Fender sang, I Still Have a Future, “You are forgiven, but you still hold onto the shame. It is time for you to walk out of the shame.” When the Lord said that to me, I knew it was time to give him all the shame that had weighed me down. Instantly, I felt the shame of what I had done leaving my very soul. Shame was replaced with the joy of the Lord! Out of respect for Brett, because this is his story, too, I did not begin to tell our story until 2011. Even then, I only told our story in one-on-one settings until one night during Coffee Break.

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony, for they did not love their lives even unto death.

I can’t tell you what the study was, but I can tell you that I knew I was supposed to tell our story to some 250 women that were in the room. I stood on the platform, told our story, and then said the following words, “If you are here and you are tired of carrying the shame and you want to give it to the Lord and walk out of it, I want you to stand up and I want to pray for you.” Let me tell you, I did not plan to say that, but the Holy Spirit had other plans! I want to tell you I was confident that someone would stand up…I can’t. I want to tell you that I didn’t question the Holy Spirit’s timing…I can’t. For what seemed an eternity, in reality, it was only about five seconds; I was praying that at least one person would stand! Then all of a sudden, a woman standing to my right slapped the table, stood, and said, “I am tired of carrying it!” That one person’s courage opened the gate, and about fifty women stood. I prayed and sat down. After service, the pastor’s wife said, “That was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen.” What had I done? I told my story with transparency and vulnerability.

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony, for they did not love their lives even unto death.

With excitement in his eyes, Fabian looked at me and said, “We overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony. We have got to tell our testimony!” Yes! Yes! Yes!

So what’s the point of the blog…