I start a new job today. I haven't started a new job in quite awhile. I feel a little rusty. I'll be working with an 80-year-old woman three days a week. She lives on her own, has a prosthetic leg and some forgetfulness, and is a widow as of September. Her daughter wants her to get up and get about, and I get the feeling her daughter wants her mother back to the way she once was. She wants her mother to want to garden, to read, to wake up at 8:30am, to go out front and greet the neighbors. I think this will be an interesting time, for all three of us. I've always liked mediation and consultation and I just may be using those muscles more than I know.
I listened to www.pray-as-you-go.com this morning, sorta to set the clock right in me. The speaker opened up with pointing us to a God of truth. He then arranged the seating to allow us to sit before God in our full and total selves. The self that is known by God, the self that is seen by God, the self that is with God...be it good, bad or indifferent in our spirits. I admitted to myself while sitting before God that I am worried about today. I tend to go quiet when I am in worry. It's like I am conserving my energy for whatever lies ahead. (Oddly, maybe even sometimes conserving my energy to admit that I am worried:-).)
To get my head on straight, I have to think, "I'm not going to know everything, nor should I. These people are all new to me and I am new to them. And I just wish to let this woman and her daughter know that they are not alone and they are loved. I don't have to answer everything for them. I can more often than not, just listen to what is being said, and sometimes that is enough. And sometimes I can listen through what is being said, and help interpret it into something helpful and full of breath. By the grace of God." Amen.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Friday, January 25, 2013
A Facelift and Confession
I come from the angle in life that if you're not going to do something well and often, then you might as well just give it up. That's the perfectionist in me speaking. She's noisy lately. And really debilitating.
I've come back to this blog sheepishly, like the prodigal's daughter. Should I go back? I've been away so long. But I want to write. Is is okay if no one on earth reads this?
I knelt in our bedroom this morning, praying. My grandmother called last week and said her brother passed away. I wept with her on the phone. She is the last child of a brood of 9 that remains. She said she stood at her kitchen sink, washing dishes, and that thought really hit her. She has had to live through all of their deaths. Then she said, "Just. Keep. Washing. Dishes." She said her sister-in-law died on the same day her brother did. What a heavy. Load.
My sister-in-law called two days ago and said her husband's father died suddenly. Her husband dealt with his mother's death early last year. Both of his parent's are gone. That's what I thought about when I was kneeling on the floor. He must feel very lost. Parent's are such strong navigational pulls, whether or not you are close in distance or in relationship, the fact that they live on this earth matters instinctively.
It was while I was praying, that I thought about writing this...and I thought about praying this and maybe there's a lot in me that believes they are the both in the same and that is why I need to not neglect one for the other, but let them live intrinsically together. Even in the form of blogging.
Ess Gee and I wrote a card to my sister-in-law and her husband. I told them that it probably wasn't good etiquette to say, I am tired of people dying, but it was honest. Then I wrote that their whole family and many others get to take a piece of that man with them wherever they go. That doesn't change. That remains.
Praying. Writing. Life. Death. It's an odd thing to be thankful for, but I am grateful that I am alive enough to know that those four words bring me to my knees.
I've come back to this blog sheepishly, like the prodigal's daughter. Should I go back? I've been away so long. But I want to write. Is is okay if no one on earth reads this?
I knelt in our bedroom this morning, praying. My grandmother called last week and said her brother passed away. I wept with her on the phone. She is the last child of a brood of 9 that remains. She said she stood at her kitchen sink, washing dishes, and that thought really hit her. She has had to live through all of their deaths. Then she said, "Just. Keep. Washing. Dishes." She said her sister-in-law died on the same day her brother did. What a heavy. Load.
My sister-in-law called two days ago and said her husband's father died suddenly. Her husband dealt with his mother's death early last year. Both of his parent's are gone. That's what I thought about when I was kneeling on the floor. He must feel very lost. Parent's are such strong navigational pulls, whether or not you are close in distance or in relationship, the fact that they live on this earth matters instinctively.
It was while I was praying, that I thought about writing this...and I thought about praying this and maybe there's a lot in me that believes they are the both in the same and that is why I need to not neglect one for the other, but let them live intrinsically together. Even in the form of blogging.
Ess Gee and I wrote a card to my sister-in-law and her husband. I told them that it probably wasn't good etiquette to say, I am tired of people dying, but it was honest. Then I wrote that their whole family and many others get to take a piece of that man with them wherever they go. That doesn't change. That remains.
Praying. Writing. Life. Death. It's an odd thing to be thankful for, but I am grateful that I am alive enough to know that those four words bring me to my knees.
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