Well, Lord, here I am again after yet another missed Wednesday. Strange day, yesterday. Maybe it was strange because I failed to pray, but I suspect it would have been strange anyway. It was another day of phone calls, each bringing with them a new revelation of some kind (although I suppose that’s the point of people phoning – most people call only when they want something or want to tell you something – probably much the same as most people who come in prayer to you!)
Caroline called. She wanted to know whether I’d decided to join Libby’s Bible study group or not. I told her I was still undecided. I took the opportunity to ask, casually, whether things were all right with Christian. She was a bit snippy with me about this, Lord, as though she didn’t want me to know anything about it, but in the end she confessed that Christian wasn’t sleeping well at all – he either won’t go to sleep for absolute hours or he falls right off to sleep only to wake at two or three in the morning either screaming in pain or just lying there in the dark, killing himself with hysterical laughing. Wonder what that’s all about.
Cameron got two calls – one to say he’d been unsuccessful for a job he’d gone for, one to ask him for a second interview.
Claire called. She wanted to know if I had seen much of Ashley lately. She wanted to know how much longer Cameron would be staying. She wanted to know whether Andrew was getting enough sleep because she thought he looked a bit tired. Belatedly, she thanked me for lunch on Sunday, then wanted to know whether I’d bought that cake I served up because it had a strange aftertaste. The cheek.
Andrew called to say he would have to work late again. That made Emily cry and not want to go to bed. She said she is sick and tired of going to bed without him there to kiss her goodnight. I could have cried myself. Thankfully, Cameron smoothed everything over by reading her a bedtime story – he was really nice with her and I suddenly saw him in a whole new light.
And lastly, when the chaos of the day seemed over, Ashley herself called. She started off by being most apologetic about having been a bit distant of late (Distant! There are planets closer!) but it wasn’t us, Andrew and I. She said she was sick of all the flak coming from Ma and Pa Copeland over her not being married yet. She’s been going odd Sundays to a new church, and didn’t want them to know. Then she asked if she could come and stay for a few days. She and Gretchen (her grouchy flat mate who looks like she eats a steady diet of lemon-peel sandwiches) have to move out of their apartment for a few days while it gets repainted and the arrangements she had made have fallen through. She wants to come on Saturday! She said she wouldn’t ask unless she was desperate, so of course I have said yes, although where we’ll put her I don’t know, since the chances of Cameron being gone by next Tuesday are infinitesimal.
Give me strength, Lord!
Amen.