The Interrupted Night

         Dreaming, I was; the kind of dream that had all the salient and succinct details been clear upon awakening would have made for an intriguing book.   So lost in the dream it felt real, yet I knew it to be illusion, a product of an active mind during sleep.

          Through this state of rest, I heard a short, yet hopeful, whine.  Maybe she was dreaming, and I wouldn’t have to leave the playground of my mind.  A few seconds later the whine repeated, along with an insistent whimper.  The dream screen went black and the resigned sigh escaped me.  

          For a change, “Maverick” was deeply asleep.  He needed it, as his work shift began at 4:30 am; his alarm was set for 2.30 am.  Although I was loath to get out of the warm bed myself, waking “Maverick” was out of the question; he would not be able to fall asleep again.  And even if he did doze off, it would only be about an hour.  

          The covers pushed aside as I sat myself up and dropped my legs over the side of the bed.  I looked up at the clock.  Great!  12:30 am—the middle of a short night.  It was the Sunday morning that the clocks went forward one hour.  So I was already going to lose an hour, but now my sleep and dreams were interrupted by a little furry being who wanted to go out!

          All I can say is, I’m glad she is so adorably cute, because at such moments her "sweet dogginess" alleviates a lot of frustration on my part.  Those big brown eyes looking up at me so earnestly, her tail slowly moving back and forth and my heart is undone.  I remind myself that Maisy has no concept of night and day as I do.  “Middle of the night” means nothing to her.  All she knows is that she is in need of going out to do her business.

          The green rain coat goes on over my pajamas, my socked feet slide into the rainbow striped Wellies and I triple-check I’ve got the keys in my pocket before I attach the lead to Maisy’s collar and we clomp down the stairs.  

          To be fair, the stars were bright in the clear night sky, white wisps of cloud were few; so at least it wasn't blowing a gale, raining in sheets or pelting down sleet.  The crisp air caressed my cheeks as I followed the familiar pavement around the North and South quadrant.  While Maisy didn't immediately squat when she ran out the back door, a couple of minutes later she suddenly stopped beside a hedge situated next to a building and justified waking me up to go outside.  She didn't take long and a minute later I loudly whisper for her to come; I am relieved to be scurrying back inside.

          When we get back into the flat, I am cold.  While I am taking off my coat and removing my boots, I can hear Maisy drinking.   Because the sound of her lapping water is so evident in the night-time silence,  I smile, though I don’t know why. 

         Cold from the unexpected and undesired night-time foray, I climb back into bed.  I checked the time again – 12:45 am.  Not long until the time change.  I long for sleep, but will need to warm up enough to relax completely.  “Maverick” snores softly for a brief moment.  I remind myself that Maisy rarely wakes us up in the middle of the night.  I preoccupy my mind with random prayers.  One last time I check the time – 2.15 am.  The clock has jumped forward.  Maybe it was that involuntary desire to observe the time change that kept me awake those last few moments.  I close my eyes, notice that my feet are once again warm.  I sigh, knowing I will soon sleep and soon dream again.

Celebrating Easter

St. Mary's After the Service Coffee time

          Easter—“He Is Risen” rings through my ears and in my heart.  Our Easter Sunday provided us opportunities to make wonderful memories.  Firstly, the weather suited the day—with patches of broken clouds and sun shining through.  At least the morning was dry.  

          The eleven o’clock morning service at St. Mary’s had some unexpected visitors.  A black Labrador named Farley came for the first time as a part of his training to be a guide dog to one of our regular church members.  He’s just over two years old, sleek coated and eager to please.  I’m sure we will see more of him in the future.

          At the end of the service the vicar introduced a couple celebrating a significant anniversary.  They had been married sixty years ago on 27^th April in St. Mary’s.  How wonderful to have a couple who have years of wisdom and experience to set an example for married couples today.   

          Most church services at Christmas time are graced with folk who do not attend a weekly service.  Easter is a similar occasion in terms of additional worshipers coming with family as part of celebrating Easter.    For us, our “extended” family included our friends from Scotland.  We walked home from church, discussing our options for dinner. 

          Since we needed seating for nine people, I checked on-line to see about getting reservations on the day.  One restaurant was full.  I found the phone number for The Harvester, which is about the same distance to walk.  The table available soon had our name written down.

          Spring is known for sudden rain showers; and we were “blessed” with a wet walk to the restaurant.  Thankfully, the shower wasn’t heavy and short-lived.  How lovely to discover the reserved table was a round table, with a booth.  It was easy to see each other and chat happily away, eating food someone else had cooked for us.  And we could leave the dirty dishes! 

          After enjoying a leisurely meal, we trooped back to our home.  The “Daniel” family needed to collect bags they had left at the flat before going back to the White House in Langley.   http://whitehouselangley.co.uk/

          Hugs all round were the order of the evening as the “Daniel” family prepared to leave.  “Maverick” and Maisy walked with them, leaving me time to sit quietly and ponder the many blessings God has poured over me.  Yes, I’d cooked for lunch for fifteen people for Saturday—but it had been a pleasure.  We had worshiped together, deepening the bond of love and sense of family.  Connections between two ministries had been made, and I felt privileged to have a part to play in that. 

          This Easter past filled my heart to overflowing with thanksgiving, love and joy. 

          Serving Jesus, Author of our faith

“Lady Helene”

         

         

What makes a "Good Friday" Good?

2016-03-27 Good Friday

          True friendship that is cherished and nurtured becomes a precious treasure.  It is marvellous to invest in the lives of people with whom one has similar faith, call to mission and areas of interest.  Since my teens I have been blessed with such friendships. 

          In 1997 I applied to join the staff of YWAM Seamill in Scotland.  http://www.ywamseamill.org/  Even before I arrived, I made the acquaintance of some special people.  “Ellianna Daniel” worked in the office as an administrator.  It was she who received my application for staff and kept me informed of progress.  I would occasionally ring her from Indiana, asking about what to expect and if she wanted me to bring anything for her from the USA.  “Ellianna” was always so helpful, answering my questions about the type of clothing to bring, information about the community, etc. 

          When I arrived in West Kilbride, I was introduced to “Ellianna’s” husband, “Simon ”.  During the two years I worked with them, their family grew by the birth of their first son, “Eli”.  Still single myself, I’d had an aversion to pregnant women and babies.  But I fell in love with that baby.

 “Eli” is now 18 years old and has four siblings:  sister “Callie” age 13 years; brother, “Jamie” age 11 years; sister “Amira”, age 7 years and “Amie” age 18 months.

          This precious family and I have managed to keep in touch by cards, e-mails, phone calls and occasional visits.  On Friday, 25^th March, they flew down from Scotland for the weekend.  Cooking for nine people rather than two was a nice change.  Sharing food around the table was accompanied with anecdotes of the past, as well as plans for the future. 

          As for Maisy, well she was delighted to have new friends in the flat.  Every family I know has at least one animal lover.  For the “Daniels” it is “Amira”.  Maisy’s play growling rose and fell as “Amira” played tug-of-war and fetch before dinner and again after. 

          It is quite easy to say that for “Maverick “ and me, we had another evening of Friday night feasting. 

          Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,

“Lady Helene”

         

 

Catching Up Again

          On Friday, 2^nd April, a little dry niggle appeared at the back of my throat. 

“Oh Great!  I hope this irritation isn’t what I think it is.”

I’d spent almost 10 days in January weathering through a virus.  Three months later I was experiencing similar symptoms.  But it wasn’t a simple virus!  It quickly deteriorated into a chest infection, complete with phylum and a painful cough. 

On Monday I made it to the doctor, who kindly prescribed amoxicillin.  Once again, I repaired to the couch in the lounge.  It seems to me that the overstuffed arms of the couch provide a great angle on which to stack a few cushions or pillows on which to sufficiently prop one’s self up to rest.   On our double bed, I can’t get a high-enough stack that is also firm enough to support me.  And it also means that “Maverick” won’t be disturbed by my restlessness and harking cough. 

Maisy couldn’t understand why “mommy” didn’t want to play.  But eventually she’d just resign herself to the situation and join me on the couch, napping. 

“Maverick” returned to work on 29^th March, which meant that I’d have to take Maisy out at least twice a day when he was at work.   Strongly encouraging her to get to her business, I didn’t talk too much, as it would set off a coughing spasm that was tiring and painful. 

I couldn’t help but think about my younger, single days.  I used to push through, going to work no matter how badly I felt.  I’d even been sent home from work.  Now I simply go to bed and stay there—if I can.   When "Maverick" is at work, and Maisy needs to go out, I have no recourse but to step into the wellingtons(boots) and slip on the coat, tromp down the stairs and out the back door; once she is done, I  gladly retreat to the dry warmth of the flat . 

The couch time has once again set me behind schedule in trying to reach 200 blog posts for the year.  So, if I do another “blog post blitz” to get back on track, I hope you will forgive me.  

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,

"Lady Helene"