Working woes

Last week at work, a fellow brought some clothes in to be dry cleaned—a couple of suits along with the fancy shirts to go with them. The collars were so very dirty, I wondered if the man ever, ever took a bath. Jeez!!!!!
Another one came with a rush job….brought it in on Thursday and had to have it back for Sunday, which meant it would be back in the store on Friday and he would need to pick it up on Saturday, if not late Friday afternoon, and he would need to be there before 12—closing time—on Saturday.
At around 10ish he or his woman called to verify the clothes were in-yes they were. At 10 till 12 they call, we are on our way. Excuse me!!!!! I waited and lo and behold if he didn’t try to keep me until way after 12. Ugh. People. If it were so rushed then why wasn’t he there on Friday to pick those clothes up.
Another thing brewing in my world is a lack of being able to do my church job properly. In order to pay the bills, I have to have them in a timely fashion. In order to reimburse people who have tied up their money-I need the receipts ASAP. It isn’t happening. Just not quite sure why the person responsible for getting all that to me is having problems doing so. Memory or lack there-of plays a huge part in the problem. Maybe there is more going on than I’m aware of. I know the Constitution and By-laws state that I’m to pay the bills handed to me by department heads—but when department heads OR even acting department heads hands me a receipt directly-then they are corrected. **sigh**
I’m getting too old for this stuff. I need every penny I make. I’m trying to help get a granddaughter out of high school and then through college. But my health is not what it used to be and I’d love to simply be able to do my job on time, in an orderly fashion, without having to run to the office mid week to write a check when I should be helping with other things, or be delayed on Sunday mornings writing checks when I need to be doing my Assistant Sunday School Director job. Again;…..**sigh**
Lord it is in your hands. Take care of it, please.

Small Town Tragedies

Small town tragedies
12/29/14
Less than a week ago a tornado hit the outskirts of our neighboring town wrecking havoc. Lives lost, homes destroyed, business torn apart. Driving through there on Thursday as we went to the coast brought back visions of the coast following Katrina. Tin tossed into what remained of tree tops, notices on Facebook of pictures found on the other side of town, photos of the young girl who lost her life, leaving behind a young son and a grieving husband. These are images one shouldn’t have to see around the holidays, especially Christmas–that time of year we celebrate the birth of our Saviour, that time of year of giving and putting others first.
Then last night the prayer chain request came through-a young life had been snuffed out. Age 15, the son of a mother who had lost her life just a few years back in a fatal car accident. This young boy was visiting a friend, they were looking at a pistol when it went off taking Devin’s life. So young, yet gone. I think of his grandparents who were raising him, his twin brother and older sister. There was an older brother but I believe he was grown already. Grandparents who had already laid to rest their only daughter.
My own granddaughters grief stricken, trying to make sense of it all. We stood tonight in the circle of people gather at our local school for a vigil in honor of Devin. I heard the prayers for peace, for understanding, for comfort. I wondered where would that come from for these young people who are struggling with accepting the loss of a friend along with their own identities and purpose in life. I listened as young men, 15 or so years old, stepped forward and expressed their loss, their love for this young man gone from us and offered up their thoughts on why and how God allowed this to happen. I heard the grief take over as one young man broke down and cried–yes under the cloak of darkness but exposed yet by his voice and still not concerned about what others thought. Awesome! Being able to express their thoughts and grief during such a time will go far in helping them heal.
May God be with them all. May God be with us all.

Who I am/who I want to be

We can’t get away from ourselves, at least not entirely. ….

There is no rule that says I have to be and think and act the same way my whole life. Today is a clean slate. I can be who I want to be.

This struck a chord with me, especially the last part. Every day of my life/every phase of my life has been a clean slate and I have written onto that slate the ME I wanted to be; for the most part anyway. Some days I want to be this woman in long flowing skirts, with wildly colored hair and lots of knowledge to share. I have the skirts; I look like crap in them!!! I have almost white hair that would color up wildly-so why not? Fear of what others will think? Fear my one or two good friends won’t want to be seen with me? My grand (16 year old) colors her hair every color she desires. I love that freedom. Knowledge, I have a bit, but forget more than I know.

I may begin to re-invent ME and not worry about others think!!!! It is, after all, a clean slate and for that I am thankful.

Ordination

Image

This young man is like a son to me. He and my son (the one in jail) grew up together, drank together, got into trouble together and could have gone to jail together–but my son would not rat out his friend. I am glad that there is honor among thieves-literally-today that is. Back when, I wasn’t so full of compassion and love for others. Back when I wanted anyone and everyone involved to pay the same as my son was paying. But that wasn’t in the plan God had for the lives of all involved and through all the days and nights of living with a child with addictions, I have grown and learned so much.

When this young man was in his teens, probably 16, 17–rather than go to school he went to work with his dad at a lumber yard. He somehow got his arm caught in the machinery and ended up losing the arm. For a number of years following the accident– Dana would stop by my house and sit at the table where I would be painting and talk to me about his life, his problems, his thoughts, his missing limb, his girlfriends. Sometimes even late, late at night he would drive by, see a light on and stop.

Eventually he met he a good woman, married and settled down to help raise the daughter she brought into the marriage and the son they had together. He went through years of heavy drinking and the problems that can cause in a family. He never spent time in jail, but I am sure his wife went through hell during those years–until a few years ago when something happened within the marriage that caused Dana to realize it was time to clean up his act–and so he did.

He began coming to church. He stopped drinking. He began to be the husband his wife always knew he could be and this past Sunday night he was ordained as a deacon in our church–his ordination occurred on the same night as I learned my own flesh and blood child had been incarcerated after 5+ years of freedom.

It occurred to me at some point during the ordination service that had he not chosen to follow his addiction down it’s ugly path, my own son could be standing in the same position as Dana. In fact the Sunday the deacons were announced I told Dana and his wife that I couldn’t be more proud than if it were my own son. In fact, Dana said that I was as much his mom as his own which truly warmed my heart–but this wasn’t my flesh and blood standing up there and while I found the “answer to a prayer” (see previous post) and the fact that while my own son was sitting in jail, my *might as well be* son was being ordained, not only funny in a twisted sort of way and ironic–the one thing I did notice was no feelings of resentment, anger or jealousy toward this young man or his family for the joy there were experiencing. That my friend, was the true blessing of the night for me!!!!

Only a person who really knows me would know how much this says to me and about me. I grew up filled with insecurities and doubt, seeing the world as a huge scary place and the people in it as out to best me. Years of al-anon and self therapy, prayer and work have brought me to this place I find myself today. Yes, I can still feel smug and vindicated when certain things happen to certain people. I’m not proud of that, but I’m still human; I’m also still a work in progress. I am very thankful to God that He has brought me this far, allowed me to grow, allowed me to see where I fail and where I succeed. My God is an awesome God!!!!!