Day of Blessings

On Tuesdays I work with two ladies - one in the morning, one in the afternoon. The afternoon lady often tries my patience like nobody else, so today I was praying really hard for extra patience, almost dreading how hard those three and a half hours might be.
By the end of my time with her, I'd been blessed in ways I didn't expect. First of all, when she saw me, her face lit up like I was the greatest thing she'd seen all day. And she started giggling...imagine a short, round lady with no neck (her head just sort of sprouts off her shoulders). She jiggles when she laughs, and her eyes scrunch up really tight. The smiling and giggling and jiggling kept up all afternoon.
Secondly, one of our routines is to hold hands while I sing "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands", and we swing our hands back and forth and she looks at me with adoring eyes. Today the simple profundity (or profound simplicity...I'm not sure which way makes more sense) really struck me in a new way. That song and "Jesus Loves Me" are the only ones we ever really need to know, I think.
Lastly, as we were heading back to her home, I heard myself saying something without even thinking about it. I said, "Debbie, you know what I love about you? You know that you're loved." Right then and there I had a taste of the joy God feels when we live in the knowledge of His love for us. Debbie has a severe disability, and she has ample opportunity to feel the cold shoulder of a world that values usefulness over innate worth. But that doesn't stop her from being happy and feeling safe with those of us who love her, even taking that love for granted by not giving anything in return but a smile and a giggle. And what a beautiful smile and giggle they are!

Lansdowne Ladies' Stalker

Umm...so...I went for a nice long walk (and it wasn't even dark yet), and just as I was on the home stretch, this man shouts from a block behind me, "Hey, you! I'm talking to you!" Being shy (and slightly wary) has its advantages...I ignored him and kept walking, checking behind me every now and then to be sure he wasn't following. I didn't see him anymore.
I got home and forgot all about it...then Aubree stepped out to go meet someone for coffee, and came back in five minutes later. Apparently a man matching the description of my shouter had been out in front of our house just as she was leaving, and struck up a conversation that led to him saying he'd love to go out with her sometime, and when she didn't give him our number he said he'd just have to come by our house every now and then...after all, according to him, he lives in the area. How handy! So we're thinking of making up a secret knock for all our friends, just so we don't have to wonder when someone's at the door and we can't see who it is.
An overactive imagination is great. Aubree did end up going out for coffee, so I stayed home and played piano...during one song I swore I heard scratching at the door, like someone was picking the lock. Kind of a rush, like a horror film, but a tad scarier. Realistically, I don't think we'll ever see that guy again. But he sure left an impression!

Why does death have to be involved in every series finale? This sucks.

Accidental Flirt

Awhile ago a young man came to our door selling cable and, to make a long story short, I ended up asking him if he was free to do something later. And yes, it was an accident! Those who recognize my ability to screw up a sentance will understand, as will those who know that the connection between my brain and mouth is touch-and-go at best. Not long after that I was out somewhere with a bunch of friends, having a nice little chat with a guy I barely know. Apparently I was flirting big-time with him, cause everyone was asking me about it later. One friend clarified that I had been leaning forward as we talked, and that was a major tip-off. Well, of course I was leaning -- I was tired of standing, so I was leaning on the back of the pew for support! (Girls, avoid this move.)

Anyway, my subconscious has decided for me that this incessant flirting must stop. I realized this when a young man came in to measure our backsplash -- I was, without question, the creepiest and most awkward young woman he'd ever met. The whole fifteen minutes he was in our kitchen, I watched the tape measure with rapt attention, standing behind him on the edge of his peripheral vision. I didn't move. I gave one-word answers to his questions. And I'm pretty sure I smiled politely only once, but it was the grin of a tired old lady who just wants this hooligan out of her house so she can get back to her soaps. I think he was okay with leaving right away after his work was done. Maybe I was kind of rude (which I didn't mean to be, I was just super tired). But at least I didn't ask him out or lean forward or commit any other such obvious flirtatious act. Maybe I'm cured.