I recently attended a retreat for the organization, Family Talk, with James Dobson. I made many new friends. I met Rebecca Hagelin, a writer for the Washington Times and one of the most down to earth women I’ve encountered, Congressman Bob McEwen from Ohio, Pastor Greg Laurie who spoke about the heartbreak of losing his son several years ago in a car accident, and a lovely lady named Judy.
I recently attended a retreat for the organization, Family Talk, with James Dobson. I made many new friends. I met Rebecca Hagelin, a writer for the Washington Times and one of the most down to earth women I’ve encountered, Congressman Bob McEwen from Ohio, Pastor Greg Laurie who spoke about the heartbreak of losing his son several years ago in a car accident, and a lovely lady named Judy.
Her face stands out the most to me. Judy is sixty-something, has shoulder length silver hair and wore funky-chunky necklaces each morning. She has perfect skin, a warm smile and every morning I greeted her, she reached out for a hug. I complied each time, of course, because she was one of those folks who is fun to hug because she really wants one.
Judy Squier wrote a book called His Majesty in Brokenness(judysquier.com) recently, and I gobbled the book up on the plane ride home. I can’t remember the last time I was so eager to read one as I was when Judy gave me hers. After spending a weekend with this lovely woman I was dying to know what really made her tick. She knew something that I wanted to know; mainly—how she could be so happy.
Now I meet nice, kind folks and sweet women frequently, but there was a chilling honesty to Judy that captivated me. Somehow I could tell that what made her so genuine was a tough life. Judy was born without legs. No thighs or lower legs, just two stumps at the end of her torso with one small foot attached.
The first morning of the retreat, I was wolfing down a buffet breakfast and sharing a quiet moment with my husband when up whizzed Judy in her wheelchair. She plunked her plate right next to mine and chirped, “Good Morning! I’m Judy.” The chatter didn’t center on her. It centered around my husband and me, oddly enough. That’s because each time I asked Judy a question, she somehow answered in a way that brought the conversation back to us. I’ve learned that this is a knack that many humble people possess. They would rather find out about you than talk about themselves.