Last week was a week of prayer at our church. For us this means that several stations are set up for participation in prayer of various forms. Sometimes I feel as if this is designed especially for me. It isn’t of course but it is a week that I appreciate very much.
On Sunday morning I shared some of my experience with prayer during this week. Randall did give us fair warning that he would ask for such stories.
Lately, my grandson, Zakariya, has been very miserable with a cold – fever, stuffy nose, cough. Grace, who still lives at home with him, had to work. Because they live with us we interact with him everyday. Sometimes we provide more care during his waking hours than she does. He knows us and receives care from us as readily as he does from his mother. When he is miserable he leans his head on my shoulder and lets me comfort him just as readily as if I were his mother. All this because we are with him regularly.
The week of prayer gives me time like that with God my Father. It gives me time to just rest in silence with him, to sit in his presence listening to him. I begin to know him a bit better and when I have time to listen in silence, my heart can hear his whisper. Over the past few years as I have learned to be with God in prayer, to lean on him as I would lean on a mother’s shoulder, to sit quietly and listen, we have become closer. I am able to trust him more because I know that his love is this incredible solid thing. I have experienced being in his presence and have felt his love hold me.
I guess what I always hope is that setting up the stations for the week of prayer will provide opportunities for other members of our community to experience God in ways similar to mine; that in seeking God they will find a life changing relationship with him.
We have a grad dress. Beautiful and orange. It was the best colour among all the many many colours we looked at. And we looked a many.
We went down to Saskatoon with the intention of buying the dress we did in fact end up buying. It was the first she tried on but not the last. We went to at lest another five stores. Some we knew right away that there was no point in trying anything. One other store had a dress in orange that may have been just as beautiful but it was in some stupid size – a size 4 I think and she could not even get it on to see what it was like. It was also more money.
In the end we went back to the beginning.
She will look gorgeous.
This morning I was thinking over my day, both the day yesterday and the day to come, today.
Yesterday I had one of my favourite patients come in for his “annual” check-up. He is a nursing student. I don’t designate him as one of my favourite patients because he has perfect teeth or no bad habits or perfect hygiene. He is a favourite because he makes us feel good when he comes in. He has a crazy, whacky and wonderful sense of humour. He makes us laugh and we have a good time when he comes in. We will therefore go out of our way to provide him the best treatment we can offer. It is a pleasure to do it. He was the last patient and so he left us all feeling like we had a good day.
Today, I am seeing a much less favoured patient. The patient is fine but his mother…. She questions my proposed treatment, seeks second opinions on things that are really pretty standard treatment. She then wants us to follow up immediately on the opinion she has gotten elsewhere as if the delay in her child receiving treatment is the most critical delay in the world. She questions the costs. She argues with the reception staff. She coddles her child, again questioning anything that is less than pleasant for him. It is not a pleasure to see her. Not for myself. Not for the reception staff. Not for my assisting staff.
There is no humour, nothing pleasant to anticipate at all.
She will provide the finishing touches to my day. I imagine she will be on my mind all day. Part of my job will be to confront her with the way she accepts treatment and how she treats the staff she deals with. The treatment proposed is simple stuff.
Update – Divine intervention?
The child’s father came in.
I have been plagued with spam lately. It comes in as contacts from this page. I have been unable to rid myself of this problem so far. Every time that I check my e-mail I have to delete a bunch of useless and very undesirable stuff. The danger is that I inadvertently delete a real message – a contact from a real live human out there that I would like to talk to.
Tonight I almost hit delete but caught myself just in time to pick up this very interesting message:
||Ugly Brown Cookbook
||I have been search for a copy/s of “The Canadian Cookbook” published by McGraw. It was a coveted cookbook in my family and has faded, lost pages and some corners have just crumbled away. When I say a reference to the old ugly brown cookbook in a clipping of a Google search I had to ask…where oh where can I find a copy or two. If you do not wish to respond that is alright, the search will go on. Thank you.
I know this book. It was a fabulous cookbook. It was thick and ugly and brown but I used it for years. I too would love to have a copy of it. Mine was left in the Congo when we left in a hurry.
Can’t you just see what would happen – “Missionary wife loses her mind – evacuates with dirty brown cookbook. Leaves clothes behind!”
Anyway, I can appreciate the person’s wish to get a copy of this book. One does have to be of a certain age to recognize the book we are speaking of. The newer versions were not half as good.
This passage was part of the morning readings. Luke 6:36 to 38 (NLT)
You must be compassionate, just as your Father is compassionate. Do not judge others, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn others, or it will all come back against you. Forgive others, and you will be forgiven. Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full—pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. The amount you give will determine the amount you get back.
I am receiving many suggestions right now in the period of buying frenzy before Christmas of what my children would like to receive. I am reflecting on what place this kind of giving has for Christ’s followers. Maybe I am just tired of the excesses. Maybe I know how much their requests really will cost if I treat them all fairly and know that it will not be possible for me to meet their requests. More and more I wish I could get away from the pressure to give at this season. So much of the giving is stuff no one needs, really.
A http://www.buynothingchristmas.org/ looks more and more attractive.
Maybe it is just my feet sore with plantar fasciitis that tell me I do not want to walk around in malls fighting people for a place in the line ups.
Yet, I want to give. It is part of my nature and when done for the right reasons and to good causes (even to one’s own children) it is a response to God’s love. I am not sure the kind of excesses of our North American Christmas honor God nor do all the requests of my children. Balance I guess. Keep honoring God my first desire. Pray I do not become too cynical or miserly to catch some of the glory of this season.
There remains one game – the Grey Cup.
Winning it seems to elude Saskatchewan. Yesterday they bombed out in the semifinals (western finals). So it ends for us Saskatchewanians. It always seems to end at about this point.
Those of us who cheer faithfully for them year after year must be farmers at heart. Next year! There is always hope for the next year.
Sad news tonight. A miscarriage.
Two tiny angels now.
Little ones gone too soon.
Do the arms of the saints
Gather you in?
Do you play around