I just caught myself napping.
I said good bye to the departing children and grandkids and sat down and dozed off. Maybe I’ll catch my second wind and get something done before bed – or maybe not.
It was a full day. I got up early to get a lasagne put together and set the oven to go by 4:30 so things would be cooking when I got home, had a shower and left to do a bit of praying up at the church before work, had an occupational health and safety meeting at lunch and worked most of the day. A couple of patients failed to show up so I printed off some pictures and did some other paper work at the office before heading home at 5. Had to swing by the store to get garlic bread and a couple other things and got caught in the slowest check out line up ever. Didn’t get home till almost 6. Crazy! At least the lasagne was ready.
And then the party began. Grace is 22 today today was the big day we were officially introduced to the boyfriend. So it was quite an evening. He seems a nice guy and Zaka seems to like him too which is a good sign. And I think he survived the zoo that our house can be when it is full of brothers and sisters and children.
It was a good day even if it was a bit crazy.
Now, I’d better run through my music for tomorrow’s practice and then get some sleep.
I have just returned from a shopping trip to the mall with my daughter-in-law and my three grandchildren.
Ahhh… the joys of shopping with children. They were pretty good actually but I have gotten used to hunting around in shops at my leisure. We spent time in the play area. That’s not an area I usually visit.
But I did find a pair of dressy shoes that fit my wide, wide feet. Now I’m set for the gala event I am attending this evening with the purpose of meeting up with a dental student I wll be mentoring over this coming year. And I’ll get to visit with our past summer student and his wife as well as visit with Sara and her dental student boyfriend.
Then I turn around and drive home – I think. Unless it is just too late and I’m too tired. My kids always seem to allow me to sleep over if I need to.
Well, I think that as of today all my children have had their impacted wisdom teeth dealt with. Most of them I have taken care of myself but Grace’s were way beyond what I wanted to tackle. So the oral surgeon removed all four of them this morning and she is sleeping off the effects of some major sedatives in her sister’s apartment.
Poor Sara. She missed her first class today to help her sister out. The procedure took a little longer than expected I guess.
Grace is feeling no pain right now but I suspect that situation will have changed by the time I pick her up at Sara’s this evening.
And since we had budgeted to pay for these and had them done as professional courtesy, we can put that cash to use in other ways. (But don’t tell that to any of my kids or they will have plans for it immediately!)
Filed under Dental, Family
I seem to be awake in the middle of the night. For no reason that I can think of. I should be sleeping. The alarm isn’t set for getting me up to work in the morning but I guess there are other things stirring up my mind or something.
There is a committee I’m invited to help out with. My heart is there but I don’t know how I can do it justice. I don’t know that I want to simply be a warm body filling a spot. If I say yes, I would be committing myself to work. And I have no more time to work. As things stand now, I work more than 40 hours a week at my paying job, am taking a class or two at seminary,am involved in orchestra which demands some regular practice, lead a small group at church and play my recorder on Sundays. On top of these regular things, I need to be a mother, wife, grandmother and friend.
These things run around in my mind keeping me from sleep.
So, I sit here beside my open window on this warm summer? night; stars filling the sky. It is a beautiful night. But here in the city, I can’t sleep and judging by the noises of the night, others are awake and going about who knows what. It is not quiet.
Perhaps quiet is really what I need most.
This morning I read in Mark 14 the story of the woman who poured expensive perfume over the head of Jesus while he was a guest at Simon’s house for dinner. So often when I re-read a story like this one, I come away from it with a fresh perspective on it.
The woman who came to that dinner – uninvited and subsequently soundly criticized for her action – came to worship the one who had given her something of more value than all the money she spent on that perfume. The story and the criticism she received reminded me that we all need ways in which to express our deepest feelings in worship of Jesus. Jesus recognized her action as worship and told his frugal followers (concerned for the waste) that her act of anointing was in preparation for his death. Of course they didn’t understand that his death was close at hand. And of course they had never seen anyone worship God in this way, spontaneously with an action coming from her heart, perhaps from her recent experience of love being poured out onto her hurts and sorrows as only God can. It wasn’t that the disciples and other followers were unused to expressions of worship, but worship had its prescribed forms that were to be followed and this just wasn’t the norm. This was lavish and messy and maybe embarrassing sensual.
I have been suffering from the effects of change lately. I think. The effects of living in changing times are not always glaringly obvious but I think that is what I am experiencing as we settle into anew rhythm of church life that comes with new staff. Things we used to do have no great significance to the newcomers but suddenly the change takes on new significance for me. There are things I miss; their absence makes me suddenly homesick for the old ways. Old habits suddenly take on meaning way beyond what they are worth. New patterns of worship are waiting for me to explore if I can embrace them; if I’m not too afraid to recognize that they too are ways of worship.
New ways of worship. They are going to happen. They need to happen. A new generation needs to find its own expression of faith and worship. Maybe it will look more like expensive perfume being poured out extravagantly to bless God in ways I never would have dared.
And then again, it could be that I am a bit like that woman, and the stuff I am longing for is the experience, sensual as it is, of pouring out my love to God in ways that others don’t always understand.
A short paragraph in Mark; the story of a woman that will be remembered – as Jesus promised. The words are stirring some kind of soul work in me.
Last week, as I spent time with Kieran and Nea, my understanding of a most wonderful truth about being a grandmother grew. It is OK to play. It is more than OK actually – it is almost a requirement and in fact it is fun.
This kind of playing belongs mostly to grandparents I think. I suppose a really silly parent can get by doing the same things but most parents take the importance of their high role too seriously. A grandparent can get away with being really silly or simple and no one is likely to judge you for being a poor grandparent because of it. They will probably watch you down on the ground picking up stones, examining them carefully with a five year old and marvel at the joy you still find in life.
This summer, as I drove out to Vancouver, I gathered a few treasures along the way. Rocks.
My excuse was that they were for Kieran. But maybe it is the repressed child in me. I always gathered rocks on my summer vacations as a child. Why not do it again now? This will perhaps be the last period of my life when I will be able to gather them. And a grandmother needs no better reason than that I will be able to sit with my grandson and admire their shapes and colour.
I had a first time experience yesterday. I guess it was kind of first time for the whole office. We called the police to come and remove a patient from the waiting room.
I also had my first one on one conversation, of sorts, with a patient so inebriated that she swung from being in tears to drooling to using descriptive phrases we don’t normally allow people to use in our office. Finally sort of convinced her that we could NOT work on her and that she would have to go back out to the waiting room and call someone to come and pick her up.
It was rather pathetic. She knew a number to call but the answer we got was that it wasn’t their business. The next phone call got a promise to come that was never carried out. Meanwhile she passed out in our waiting room only to wake up every now and then to tell everyone to shut up and stop making so much f…ing noise. Sort of disruptive. And very sad actually.
Hated to call the police to take her away.
Sad combination of fear, pain and long standing problems with alcohol. And we could not help her.