Where He Could Be Alone

“Gloria!  Gloria!  Why did you let me oversl….”  I let out a deep sigh and a half laugh, stopping my words in mid flow.  I’m not used to waking up to the rays of the sun splashing across my face.  I’m not used to waking up to quiet either.

Actually, I wake way before the buzz from the alarm clock pierces my ears.  Gloria is usually already in the kitchen sipping on her second cup of coffee.  News is blaring from the TV above the fridge.  The toaster is dinging that the waffles are ready.  Lil Tommy is usually already running up and down the hall, racing against T. Jackson; T. Jackson is chasing after the tennis ball, slinging his drool all over the walls and his four paws tapping a rhythm on the wood floors.  Lori is usually already monopolizing the bathroom as a 15-going on-25 year old. 

Stretching and yawning, I look about me.  The guest house is small and quaint but adequate and well kept.  The kitchenette has a dorm-sized refrigerator, a hot plate, a coffee maker,  a microwave and a kitchen sink of course.  The open shelves show basic dishes and pots and pans. The bathroom occupies the other corner, just a bit more spacious than the lavatory on the plane.  Well, there is a shower stall, of course.  There’s a small table for two with chairs in the middle of the room and a wooden rocking chair by the fireplace.  This end of the guest house is occupied by the bed, a night stand, and a wooden wardrobe.  The decor is clean and fresh, basic and simple. 

There is no TV or radio.  There is no internet connection.  There is no phone.  In fact, before I was handed the keys to the guest house, I had to hand over my cell phone to the home owners.  I know them well; we go to the same church.  They are a young elderly couple with hearts for discipleship.  I think this guest house must have originally been built for the mother-in-law.  She has since passed and now the couple willingly offers this humble abode as a retreat. 

I wonder how Gloria and the kids are doing.  Gloria would have gotten them off to school in top form.  She says I am too lenient with Lori and that she takes advantage of my soft side.  What am I to do?  Of course I have a soft spot; Lori is just like her mother when I fell in love with her mother was just that age.  She also says that Lil Tommy is acting out in school again and that he is the one struggling the most from my extended absences.  What am I to do?  She knows what the salary is for this job.  It’s almost insane!  But so is the amount of hours and travel that is required.  They are great kids actually.  We are a great family actually.  Mostly because Gloria holds us all together, actually.  I noticed that she’s dropping weight again even though she is trying to hide it from me.  Her mother has not adapted well to the nursing home.  What were we to do with her after Gloria’s dad died?  She couldn’t be left alone and Gloria spent weeks looking for availability in a nursing home. 

“Lord!  Lord!  Why did you let me get into such a mess … ”  I let out a deep sigh and a half laugh, stopping my words in mid flow.  I’m not used to waking up bellowing out in prayer.    I’m not used to waking up to quiet either. 

Stretching and yawning, I look about me.  The guest house is small and quaint but adequate and well kept.  There’s a small table for two with chairs in the middle of the room.  And there my eyes rest on the Word and a new journal. 

 

 

“But He would go away to places where He could be alone for prayer.”

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3 thoughts on “Where He Could Be Alone

    • I am grateful to find another who sees the humor in the most frustrating of circumstances. Seeing, and responding with, humor in touchy situations has so often gotten me in trouble. Can you relate? Looking forward to hearing more from you.

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  1. Pingback: Numbed by Withholding, Faint by Apathy | Shadows of Love

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