Seriously? Isn't life supposed to work out when in the Lord's hands?
I prayed and prayed for a dishwasher. I went by the health unit's rules. I kept my eyes and ears open for the Lord's leading and the right dishwasher to use. Doors closed everywhere and finally, amidst frustration and confusion, a machine arrived.
$4200 later, and $1500 to install it, and I had a working, health unit approved dishwasher.
And 6 weeks later, it broke.
And 3 months later, it is still broken.
Lord?
The representative on the other end of the line is in Quebec, breathing heavy and sighing as much as I am. Poor Alan at extension 214. (I have the number memorized now). If only he and I were in charge of the world, I am sure I would have a working dishwasher.
It's those middle men.
.
.
.
Lord?
I put my head down on the table (I do that a lot). I regroup. I chant, "This is but a moment in my eternal life...this is but a moment in my eternal life."
The irony is I have a ton of work to do but because I am trapped here waiting for the fix-it man to arrive (I am on day five of waiting), I cannot work, but instead fret, pace, whine and eat junk food.
Lord?
.
.
.
Lord?
Did I pray for patience the other day? I didn't, did I? I know better than that. Maybe in my sleep?
Did Mr?
He wouldn't dare! Hmmmm. I gotta go. I think I have a call to make. And it's not to Alan at extension 214.
.
.
.
Patience may be a virtue, but misery loves company.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
My Mom Was a Nature Fairy
Saturday night I arrived late to our family campout, tired, smelling like carrot cake, and wearing a large baseball hat over my dirty hair. It was mom's 60th birthday and I'd just about missed it.
But nobody seemed to mind: twelve kids were running wild, up the treehouse dad had just built, around the pond where a snapping turtle was hiding, and some were hanging from my oldest cousin's t-shirt in a game of touch football. Adults were relaxing after passing around huge bowls of chili and starting into the burgers. I was handed a beer and told to sit. So I did. I caught Mr. Man and my mom standing along the sidelines, hands on hips, watching over everyone. I could tell who was in charge.
Everybody in mom's family has always been close, always kept in touch, and always cared when good and bad things happen. Mom turning 60 was the perfect reason for getting together. Some parked trailers on their large property, some "camped" inside. It was an all-out eating fest, and I certainly did my part.
As everything panned out the way mom secretly orchestrated it, there was one gift she wasn't expecting.
You need to understand first that before I knew her, mom was a fairy. If you read any books on the Neverland Fairies, she would be on the page about nature fairies. Mom knows every plant and flower, both in latin and layman's terms, and can magically grow any of them. She walks through the woods greeting the winter berries and looking for bird tracks to see who's visited the area. Ultimately, she searches for the magic.
When she is with my kids, she pulls them into her imaginative play. They become characters in a story of her creation, and they sip their tea, draw their maps, and spend their millions until she heads out the door and the bubble of wonder melts away.
Once, when my son was very young, I found the magic. It was at the edge of a ball field were the grass was long and the weeping willows hung so low they formed a green ivy-covered cave. Tiny bugs jumped along, dandelion seeds floated through the air and I felt a warm shiver up my spine. Fairies were in this place. I knew it. And I thought of mom.
So Saturday night when she called me away from the campfire, I wasn't surprised that she'd found something full of wonder. What we saw no one (even in 65 years) had ever seen before.
Back behind the barn, whether we turned left or right, or walked the length of the field, we were surrounded by hundreds of lightning bugs. Fireflies. It was a sight to behold. Dancing, shining, enjoying the nighttime, it was as if fairies were at work everywhere, using the firefly lights to shine the way. While we were having our family reunion on one side of the barn, the fairy world was having a family gathering on the other side.
"It's just like pixie dust!" someone said. A sideways look at mom and you knew she wanted to run out there, greeting each and every one of them.
So here's to mom on her birthday.
Happy Birthday, Mom. May you never lose the magic.
We love you!
But nobody seemed to mind: twelve kids were running wild, up the treehouse dad had just built, around the pond where a snapping turtle was hiding, and some were hanging from my oldest cousin's t-shirt in a game of touch football. Adults were relaxing after passing around huge bowls of chili and starting into the burgers. I was handed a beer and told to sit. So I did. I caught Mr. Man and my mom standing along the sidelines, hands on hips, watching over everyone. I could tell who was in charge.
Everybody in mom's family has always been close, always kept in touch, and always cared when good and bad things happen. Mom turning 60 was the perfect reason for getting together. Some parked trailers on their large property, some "camped" inside. It was an all-out eating fest, and I certainly did my part.
As everything panned out the way mom secretly orchestrated it, there was one gift she wasn't expecting.
You need to understand first that before I knew her, mom was a fairy. If you read any books on the Neverland Fairies, she would be on the page about nature fairies. Mom knows every plant and flower, both in latin and layman's terms, and can magically grow any of them. She walks through the woods greeting the winter berries and looking for bird tracks to see who's visited the area. Ultimately, she searches for the magic.
When she is with my kids, she pulls them into her imaginative play. They become characters in a story of her creation, and they sip their tea, draw their maps, and spend their millions until she heads out the door and the bubble of wonder melts away.
Once, when my son was very young, I found the magic. It was at the edge of a ball field were the grass was long and the weeping willows hung so low they formed a green ivy-covered cave. Tiny bugs jumped along, dandelion seeds floated through the air and I felt a warm shiver up my spine. Fairies were in this place. I knew it. And I thought of mom.
So Saturday night when she called me away from the campfire, I wasn't surprised that she'd found something full of wonder. What we saw no one (even in 65 years) had ever seen before.
Back behind the barn, whether we turned left or right, or walked the length of the field, we were surrounded by hundreds of lightning bugs. Fireflies. It was a sight to behold. Dancing, shining, enjoying the nighttime, it was as if fairies were at work everywhere, using the firefly lights to shine the way. While we were having our family reunion on one side of the barn, the fairy world was having a family gathering on the other side.
"It's just like pixie dust!" someone said. A sideways look at mom and you knew she wanted to run out there, greeting each and every one of them.
So here's to mom on her birthday.
Happy Birthday, Mom. May you never lose the magic.
We love you!
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