Fruit of the Grape Vine

Saturday afternoon, some kind of flu bug decided to tangle with me. It had me totally down for the count on Sunday and continued to beat me up yesterday. I wallowed in bed with a fever, chills, and a head that craved quiet and darkness.

Every so often, the bedroom door would open, I'd hear the shuffle of little feet, and then one or another of my cherubs would stage whisper, "Mommy, MOMMY, are you awake?" Don't you love it? Not really.

Well, yesterday morning, a neighbor friend called and said that another neighbor had told her that she had heard I was sick. "Would you like some Chicken Soup for lunch?" she asked.

Wow! Now, I've seen all kinds of grape vines carry all kinds of information. But when they produce real honest to goodness chicken soup, that's pretty awesome. It felt wonderful to have someone care enough to do something to help.

It made me think, though. When was the last time something I heard on the grape vine moved me to act? Hmm. I'm ashamed to say, I can't remember. But now I have a new mission as a member of our neighborhood's grapevine!

I'm feeling better, and I'm all ears, God.