In addition to a long list of maintenance jobs, we have been dealing with four separate leaks for a good long while; enough to make one tired.
Imagine my delight when I walked into the kitchen after a long day, turned on the tap and realised it wasn’t even our tap! A brand new tap stood proudly in its place, and in the area where there would have either been a puddle of water or a wet towel on the floor, the ground was dry. I blinked and swallowed, breath rushing easily into my lungs, heart glowing. Someone fixed my problem, and it was done to surprise me. It took me from the drudgery of a normal day to rapturous gratitude.
The following day, a group I have been hosting met for the last time without a clear way forward. By the end of the afternoon I had had a conversation with one friend where I felt heard and loved AND everyone had, enthusiastically, decided on a new plan of action and how it would look and who would host in the season ahead. At the start of the day I was simply sure that I could not host any longer and that something needed to shift in the way we were doing things. By the end of the day there was evidence of new shoots bursting through the soil where only little dormant seeds had been buried before. Ends of days don’t need to look like beginnings of days and that’s exciting!
Just when I thought things were going so well, they got even better. The leaking toilet was the next to receive attention. I walked past one morning and saw my tall, distinguished brother lying on his right side, his left arm wrapped around the bowl in order to shine the torch into the back end intestines of the loo, his neck arching awkwardly to get a proper look. This is a guest loo, folks, very cramped working conditions. My dad, who is tired and recovering from quite an ordeal, stood peering from above, giving tips. They worked for hours and these two men not only gave me a leak-free loo, but a lighter heart. Their actions told me that the things that affect me affect them. They did for me what I could not do for myself. They did my dirty work and called it a pleasure. (All toilet puns unintended.)
I was floating around, thankful that burdens had been taken out of my hands, when my husband arrived home and said, “I got you something you are going to love!” I was intrigued! We are not very good at gift giving and being romantic and this is hardly the country to gift shop in so what had he found? He had caught wind of someone moving country and, knowing me well, had purchased her pottery bowls glazed sea blue on the insides. He nailed it, folks. My heart had already been uncurling all week, in amazement, and then a perfect, surprise gift.
Now, as you know from last week, I am trying to live cleaner, and I honestly thought I should have at least gotten a clearer complexion or shifted some stubborn pregnancy weight because of it. Well! Not only does the scale show a very constant attachment to certain numbers, but my jeans were way tighter than they have ever been. Way. I had to stop breathing to fasten the button and so decided to wear a floaty skirt instead. Puzzled and despondent, I stood in front of my cupboard this morning wondering where to begin. It was there that the heavens opened and angels sang when I realised the jeans in my cupboard weren’t even mine, they are my son’s! Not only are they a men’s fit but they are a size I never even want to fit into!
I write not to bore you about my leaks and tight jeans, but to encourage us all to do what we can for others, and to do it in a surprise fashion where possible. I have been the recipient of several, unexpected kindnesses this week. The glow in me, as a result, goes far deeper than my skin and there’s a tangible weight off my shoulders, which is better than one off my hips.
Leave a Reply