Keep me as the apple of your eye; Hide me in the shadow of your wings Psalm 17:8 NIV

When someone says you are the apple of their eye it means they love you very much and may even dote on you a little. I like the image of being the apple of God’s eyes, but I love being in the shadow of his wings even more.  The past few days I have felt a renewed sense of peace and knowing that God is watching over me.  Writing about my grief and sharing memories of Mom has helped me see things from a better perspective.  God has been faithful in this process and my desire is for my words to honor him.

This is harvest time and that means apples.  I can’t think of a better image for this time of year than sitting under the shadow of an apple tree eating a crisp, juicy apple knowing that God sees me as the apple of his eye and hides me under his wings.

I was talking with a friend yesterday who was on her way to the Apple Orchard.  It brought back memories of Mom.  I remember when she would go to the Orchard and bring home a bag of Apples.  More often than not it was a bag of Courtland Apples, which was one of our favorites.  I can taste one now a perfect blend of sweet and tart. Deep red skin and pristine white flesh.

Mom loved apples.  She kept them around and they were a go-to snack.  In recent years Dad made sure he kept apples for her.  Sometimes knowing what she’d eat or could eat was a challenge,  but we could pretty much count on apples.  When she no longer seemed to enjoy eating them we switched to Apple juice which she loved.

One of the challenges with Alzheimer’s is knowing if they are eating enough.  Some foods become more difficult and at some point feeding themselves is more of a challenge.  So we tried to keep finger foods that we thought Mom would enjoy and when necessary we fed her.  Towards the last of her journey, she needed more help with eating.  She had a wonderful caregiver who came in a couple days a week.  She would feed Mom and spoil her a little bit.  But we didn’t mind. One of the last things I did for my mom was to feed her a meal I had cooked.  She mmmm’d appreciatively, which is how we knew she really liked something. I was happy to feed her and she was happy to eat.

I  remember seeing Mom walk down my back sidewalk many times, on her way to my house, apple in hand, munching contentedly, or standing on her back porch eating an apple staring into the yard thinking her own thoughts.

She won’t be going to the orchard this year, but I imagine God has plenty of Apple trees in his backyard. My Dad remarked that he figured one of the first things she did when she got to Heaven was pick an apple to eat.  I’m sure she did right after she ran into Jesus’s arms.

Maybe I’ll find an orchard this weekend, buy a bag of apples, and eat one in memory of my sweet Ladybug. I’ll rejoice that she is indeed The apple of God’s eye and that she has found healing under his wings.

Grace for the journey,

Teresa

Come back tomorrow for more of the journey?  Just a reminder that I usually post later in the day. Clicking on the ladybug graphic will take you to the first page in this series with links to the daily posts. Thanks for reading!