Juliene’s Dish Rag

dishrag (2)Upon the passing of my dear friend , Juliene Hoener, I am reflecting.  And I will continue to reflect every time I do the dishes with this dish rag.  Yes, there is a story.

We first met Lloyd and Juliene at Church when David sat next to her and someone asked her if he was her son.  Well, she looked him up and down and replied,”Yes, he is.”  And, so it was.

Juliene was a great friend. In fact, the first time David and I went out to eat with Juliene and Lloyd to the Railroad Cafe was the day I was baptized in the Holy Spirit.  So, you could say she was my spiritual Mom.  We struck up a relationship that lasted till she passed this week.  At first, we just enjoyed their companionship at meals after Church. Then, Lloyd became ill and we got to share some of her trials at his passing just over a year and a half ago. Juliene became interested in many of the health questions I research, including essential oils and diet. Every so often, the phone would ring and it would be Mom.  She would have a question or she would ask me how I was doing.  Any time I shared a concern with her, her immediate reaction was not to commiserate with my distress or complain about her similar problems, but she would start praying out loud, right there and then, in the moment.  She demonstrated such boldness in her faith that it was contagious!

Smith Wigglesworth said in one of his books that healing happens in the moment. If you stop to think about the person in front of you and their circumstances or the fact that they are always complaining, or that they really deserve the fix they are in, you have lost the opportunity to pray effectively.  It’s as if you have added all of your own baggage and judgement to the prayer and it is so heavy it can’t “send.” Mom demonstrated a clear and present pathway to the Lord in her prayers.

I was washing the dishes at the ranch the other morning while Mom lay on her death bed back in town.  Instead of worrying about whether she would survive or not. I kept thinking how I would love to find a dish rag like the one I saw in her sink.  How petty!

So, as David was leaving the house, I said, “David, I can’t believe that Mom is dying and all I can think of is how I wish I could have a dish rag like hers. What do you make of that?”

He said, “Ask her where she got it.”

“I can’t let my last remarks to my dear friend be about her stupid dish rag!”

David simply replied as he walked out the door, “You can if you know that you will see her again.”

I laughed out loud, but how many times do we betray that we really don’t believe what we say we believe? How many times do the petty things in our heart reveal a bigger problem. Do we really believe that Jesus is the only begotten son and that he lived, died and was resurrected? Do we believe His promises?

I told this to Regi and Stan, and they promptly gave me the dish rag with the promise that I would pass it on along, when I go, with the story.

Just in case, here’s the story.


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