Monday, November 18, 2013

Gatorade praying...

Associations are about the only way that I can learn/retain information these days.  As a former Dr. So-and-so, that's hard to swallow.  The very first time that I said this, that I asked for true help remembering something—the one who used to teach college without prep, thousands of books and studies and such in her brain and on her tongue—was with Sprint.

I needed to change my phone number since I moved, but I already was struggling with daily memory problems ... and that was three years ago.  I wept when I tried to explain, but the rep was actually really kind about it.  She searched through the available list of numbers until she found one that ended 4590.  Then she said, "You can remember that number because 45 is half of 90."  Perfect.  I do at least remember the last 4 digits of my phone number!

My best friend helped me with the next real association:  L is for Left and L is for Lock.  Turn left to lock the door.  You see, I could not figure out the old-fashioned deadbolt in the back door.  She studied the lock, came up with the association, and ever since then, I repeat L is for lock, so turn left nearly every time I go to lock (or unlock) the door.

Actually, Becky was the first who showed me how helpful associations can be back when I struggled to remember how to put in my contacts, something I have been doing since I was 13.  Inside out.  No matter how often I would try to figure it out, I would stare at them and then put them in inside out.  That hurts.  Then, I was wearing Acuvue lenses, and one day Becky pointed out that I lived in Virginia so that when I looked inside the lens and saw the VA, I would have them the proper way.

With alarms going off all day and signs about the house, all telling/reminding me what do to, I find it to be a personal victory when I do remember something I have not put in/on an alarm, a sign, a list, and/or calendar appointment.  If you ask me to do something, and I have not, ask me again.  And again.  And again.  It is needful and necessary and rather helpful for me.  I do not remember from one email to another, from one sentence to another, from one moment to another.

But prayer ... well part of the forgetting is covered by the Holy Spirit, who brings our prayers to Jesus, who brings them to the Father.  The other part?  Association.

Whenever I make a pitcher of Gatorade, I also spend the time praying for Mary, her beloved, and her cherubs, for she gave me my first canister of powdered Gatorade.  I pray for Mary, too, whenever I make chalupas or roasted broccoli.  I pray for Becky whenever I pour milk, smiling because of our divergent views regarding milk and spaghetti. I also pray for her, her beloved, and her cherubs, when I see the color purple, when I turn the deadbolt on the back door,   I pray for Bethanie, her beloved, and her cherubs whenever I step into the tub, for there was a time when she scrubbed it for me.  I also do so whenever I cast my eyes upon the curtains she all hemmed.  I pray for Marie and her beloved whenever I am on the kitchen floor, for they once joined me.  I also pray for them whenever I go down to the basement, cook, and when I see the color green.  Green also reminds me to pray for Celia and her family, for both she and Marie share my love of the color green.

I pray for Tim whenever I wait upon Amos, ever so thankful for his magic wielded upon my yard, turning it into my beloved expanse of prairie.  Too, then, I pray for Leslie, for she took me to fetch the needful things for his care the day I received Amos into mine.  Ah, that beloved fluffy ball of mine!

I pray Wynne whenever I see the color red, for that is her passion.  I pray for her and hers, too, whenever I see mention of hockey, for I still cannot believe that is her sport.  Hockey!  I pray for Sandra whenever I read the Book of Concord (or quote it), as I do also for the one who placed it in my life.  I pray for Donavon and William whenever I turn to the Psalter, for those two understand my passion and my refuge.

When I look at my tires, I pray for my best friend's husband, for he helped me pick them out.  When I look at any website, I pray for my friend Caryl, who not only is the designer I worked with at my jobs, but who is also the most kind, generous, and best-at-customer-service web designer you will ever meet.  Now that she's sustenance gardening, too, when I stop to admire the good gifts of growing things in this world, I pray for her.  These days, whenever I look at my faucets or get a chill, I stop and pray for Janet, who emailed me a reminder to disconnect my hose so that I did not have to replace one or both of the faucets again this year.  And, of course, I pray for her whenever I make a pot of tea ... and drink it.

I could go on and on and on.  Throughout the day are so very many reminders of people, small things that help me remember to pray.  Sadly, I no longer remember all that I am supposed to be praying for, nor do I remember to look at lists.  But I do either stop what I am doing and pray or pray for others whilst I am doing what I am doing.  Like now, as I type, I remember Sandra and Anna, who helped me convert to MAC and still service as my Apple tech support when I send frantic texts or emails.

It is a privilege to pray for others ... and a help to me.  It is a time to remember the good gifts of God and have them be the focus—at least for a little while—rather than the struggles I face.

I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!

1 comment:

Mary Jack said...

That's really beautiful! I wish my mind would work like that.