"Wondrous Saturday Morning Routine"

I love Saturday mornings for a lot of reasons, but I've come to a new appreciation for them since I got married and began living with 4 boys.  I'd like to say it's because Daniel and I luxuriously sleep in and snuggle, while our roommates bring us breakfast in bed; but alas, my husband is too tightly wound to waste time lying in bed.  But while he and the roommates have been busy being productive with their Saturday mornings, I have been busy developing what I like to call the "Wondrous Saturday Morning Routine" - wondrous primarily because it is sans men.

First, I sleep in just a little bit longer than necessary.  Second, I put on some wonderful, relaxing classical music.  Third, I don my full ballerina outfit - or really anything that looks like something a ballerina might wear.  Creativity and imagination are definitely encouraged for this step.  Fourth, I begin casually putting on the world's greatest ballet performance in front of hundreds of imaginary people in our upstairs apartment.  Sometimes I dance so artfully and gracefully around the tables, chairs, and piles of clothes in our apartment, that I move even myself to tears.  It is truly a magical time.

This past Saturday I had finished the the ballet portion of my routine and was finishing up by sitting downstairs at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, classical music, and my book.  I was completely cherishing the quiet, the beauty, and especially the sports-free nature of the moment.

Then the boys walk in from the 10 mile run they had just completed.

Matthieu walks in, dripping with sweat, and immediately sits down at the computer to determine what their pace was.  He clicks around on the computer for a bit (still panting) before he turns around suddenly and asks, "Am I smelling myself, or is someone making a huge thing of pasta?"

I look at him inquiringly and raise my eyebrows.

I have no words.  I literally have no idea what this means.

"No?"  He questions.  "No one's making a big thing of spaghetti sauce?  Hmm.  Must be smelling myself then."  He shrugs like it's no big deal and turns back to the computer.

And thus ended that Saturday's "Wondrous Saturday Morning Routine."

Who can separate them?

As part of my training at work I have been going out with various care managers on their home visits.  It’s a great learning experience:  I’m getting to see what’s involved in being a care manager, learn different people’s styles of interacting with clients, and meet some really wonderful people.  But SO much more than that, I’m getting to learn basic, very human life lessons that ground me and teach me about what a contented and joyful life looks like.

A couple weeks ago I went out with my trainer to do a home visit and had the privilege of meeting one of the most tender, loving couples I have ever seen. 

Birdie and Oliver live together in their small suburban home of 45 years.  At 85, they both feel weak and stiff and have begun to stoop.  Their beloved children have grown and scattered throughout the country after being raised in a household full of laughter and love.  Though they’re not able to get out of the house very often, they love getting dressed up to go out together to do errands: she puts on her hat and her stockings and he puts on his good button down shirt and grabs his cane.  But after a life-time together, Birdie’s memory is fading.  At first she forgot little things: where she put her hat, that thing she was going to tell Oliver, what that thingamajig is called. 

Now she gets lost on her way to the bus station down the street she has walked to for the past 45 years.  She forgets the names and faces of her children and often does not recognize them.  Through it all, Oliver has been her faithful friend and companion.  He loves her unconditionally – even when she forgets who he is.

During the visit, Oliver sat beside his wife on the couch holding her hand and answering all my questions for her because she is not able to remember the answers, or even communicate them if she did.

At one point, I asked Oliver if Birdie knew who he was.  Birdie perked up as if she really wanted to answer this question for herself.  She looked at her husband and squeezed his hand, but her mouth stood agape and no words came out because her brain just did not know the answer.  She just stared at him.

Oliver looked into his wife’s eyes with such love and sorrow and said, “That’s OK Birdie.  I know.  I’m you’re husband Oliver.  We’ve been married for 45 years.  We’re best buds, and we love each other.”

Birdie nodded in agreement, satisfied with his answer.  She still knew it was true, even if she couldn’t remember it by herself.

She then turned to me and tried to speak.  She repeated herself a lot and her vocabulary was jumbled as she misplaced and misused words while her brain tried to recall them.  But she spoke with conviction, because she was sure about what she was saying.

She said, “I know that God is with me, and He lives in me.  You don’t need to mess around with funny stuff.  Go to church.  And I know that God is with me.”

I was so awestruck by what she said.  This woman had forgotten everyone she loved, including her loving husband of 45 years, but she remembered Jesus, her lover for eternity.  What an incredible testimony of how deeply her heart clung to her Lord. 

I know the enemy comes to steal, kill, and destroy, and I know that he has the power to do so.  But the Lord tells us not be afraid of those who want to kill the body, because they cannot touch the soul.  Try as he might, the enemy cannot take her out of the Lord’s hand, despite her vulnerability. 

I know Birdie’s loving husband will be with her until the very end, continuing to live the testimony of Christ’s love for her, but when it is time for them to be separated, the Lord will raise her up and restore her completely, and they will be together forever.

I am so comforted to know that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.  What a miracle that he overcomes such obstacles to make Himself known to us.

Thank you Father.

Why I know this will be the best job in the world:

As you may know, I started work at Ursuline Senior Services last week.  After a long month of unemployment (made up primarily of fun and relaxation, but at times severe boredom), I was both nervous and excited to begin working.  As with any job, I’ve experienced some ups and downs.  However, it wasn’t until today that I realized I have the best job in the world.  Sure I get to do some very rewarding work helping people in meaningful ways, caring for widows, defending the defenselelss, etc., but you don’t understand . . . this place is magical.

This story begins with another period of severe boredom (ironically reminiscent of unemployment) that I experienced while my trainer was out of the office yesterday.  It was 2 pm and I had a solid 2.5 hours before I could leave the office for the day.  I had absolutely nothing to do and had completely exhausted my list of “interesting things to google.”  I decide to take a trip to the bathroom (not because I had to go, but simply because I want to take up time and possibly start up a conversation on the way).  As I pass the lunch room I notice the vending machine.  Assessing that the wares were very reasonably priced and that I certainly deserved a treat (for being employed at the very least), I decide to go for the delicious looking bag of M & Ms.  I carefully put in the exact change, press the buttons, and (as I have been conditioned to do) begin salivating as I watch the bag begin to fall.  I excitedly reach in for my treat, when to my delight the machine proceeds to drop down ANOTHER bag of M &Ms!  This is incredible . . . TWO bags of M & Ms for the price of one!  What a great day!

My delight turns to ecstasy, however, when I hear the clicking of coins dropping in the change dispenser.  I shouldn’t be getting change . . . what’s going on?  I reach in and find the same coins I put in . . . all my money has been returned to me!

Let’s do a quick recap so that can soak in: not only did I get a sweet bag of M & Ms, I got TWO bags AND all my money back!

Of course I tell Daniel about the miracle later that night.  He shows an unusual amount of enthusiasm for my story (probably because it involves me not spending money).  He remarks that it was “seriously crazy” and agrees with me that it was totally sweet.

Needless to say, that was a good day, but as we all know, the best job in the world is not made up of one good day.  It would have to be engrained in the day in/day out fabric of the job. 

Well . . . It is.

Today I was out doing a home visit with another care manager and on our way there I share my wonderful news from yesterday.  She smiles and nods as I speak and rejoices with me in my triumph.  When I finish, however, she confides that that same thing happens to her all the time . . . but with Cheetz-Its.   She says sometimes she actually gets MORE money than she put in!

WOAH!  Really?

This vending machine miracle is apparently known office-wide as a daily occurance.  The HR director even boasts the record of once getting two bags of peanuts, two things of Chex-mix, a bag of pretzels, and some gum all for under a dollar!  And don't worry, there's no sign that the vending machine will be fixed any time soon either.  It's been performing miracles daily for at least 6 months and no one has done anything to fix it . . . including the vending machine guy, who knows about the problem and doesn't seem to care.  As far as we're concerned, this will go on indefinitely!

So, I feel it's pretty safe to assume this job is going to work out just fine.  Thanks to all who prayed for me while I was in the process of looking for work.  I greatly appreciate it!

FREE SNACKS FOR ALL!

Beginnings: how we bond

As Daniel and I climbed the steps to our stuffy third story apartment last night, we were a little apprehensive.  For the past week it has been so hot that we have gone so far as to take our mattress off its frame and plop it on the living room floor in front of our standing air conditioner (which is more like a strong fan).  Even with all our windows open, our air conditioner, and a fan constantly blowing, we have had trouble sleeping some nights.  As we reach the top of the stairs, however, we are relieved to find the apartment is actually quite pleasant.  Tired from a day full of sweating, we collapse into bed . . . right as the power goes out.

“Oh no!”  We think as the lights go out. 

“Oh.  No.” We think as we hear the humming of the fans and air conditioning gradually stop.  

Within one minute, our little apartment goes from quite pleasant to absolutely insufferable.

We lie absolutely still, focus on our breathing, and try not to panic.  I keep telling myself the power will come back on in just minutes.  They know.  They’re coming to save us.

We lay there and I begin to sweat profusely.  From just laying.  OK, this isn’t working.  We need to find another way.  


So we go downstairs in search of cooler air.  It's maybe half a degree cooler, but it’s definitely worth it so we take to the couches and try again to find sleep. 

Minutes later, out of the darkness we hear footsteps coming down the stairs and Cory’s voice, “Man, I couldn’t do it, man,” as he walks in to the living room and sits down with us.  Sleeping in heat like this is just not a possibility—no matter how tired we were.


Moments later, we hear more footsteps as Matthieu and Charlie join the crowd . . . and our desperation.

We sit in the darkness and think of ways we might be able to evade the oppressive heat:

“We could sleep outside,” I suggest.

“What if we all chipped in for a tank of gas and slept in the car with the AC on all night?” Cory proposes.

“I’d like to sleep at Eat N’ Park and eat ice cream all night,” Matthieu dreams.

“Dude, we could run 20 extension cords to our place from the house across the way that does have power,” Daniel plans.

“We have a free night at a Marriott, what if we all got a hotel room?” I ask.  


There’s silence as everyone thinks.  Are we really that desperate?  I think we might be . . . No.  Come on.  We’re tougher than that.  There has to be another way.

"What if we just went to a movie theater and just bought tickets for the longest movie?”  Cory asks.  "At least then we'd have a guaranteed 2 1/2 hours of sleep." 

“I think I might throw 45 freeze pops in bed with me and see how that goes.”  Matthieu says.

There’s silence again while we think of our other options.  There’s nothing but darkness and heat.  Matthieu begins forlornly plucking on his guitar and whistling a tune.  Cory joins in harmony.  (They’re practicing for our house whistling band we're planning to take on tour – even though neither Daniel nor I can whistle)

Then Cory asks, “Dude, if you had to choose one house to just show up at right now asking for a place to crash, what house would it be?”

The question evokes images of all our friends sleeping in their ice cold, air conditioned houses.  The thought is like torture.  So many friends and family living in such luxury and us here in this bitter oppression.  I’m sure they wouldn’t mind all of us showing up at their doorstep.  That’s what friends are for, right?  It’s only like 2 AM.  They’re probably not even in bed yet. 

Whatever.  They don’t even know what we’ve been through.

As the night drags on we begin to lose hope.  Lose hope in rescue and lose hope in our ability to find a way out.  And then we accept our fate.  We can't win and we're too hot to fight it anymore anyway.

Eventually I fell asleep.  Around 5 AM I open my eyes and see Daniel standing on his mattress pad pumping his fists wildly in the air.  It takes me a minute to realize, but THE POWER IS BACK ON!  I raise my hands in victory. 

We triumphantly climb the stairs back to our apartment and we've been sleeping happily ever after.  But we'll never be the same.