Listening...

Tuesday, I was slotted in to see the dentist and ended up with a filling for the cavity.  I still cannot believe that I have a fourth cavity.  I am absolutely overwhelmed at the way Sjögren's is attacking my body ... and the cost.  Yes, I started a dental savings account, but I've only had four months to start saving for more dental work.  Just four months!

SIGH.

I really have spent much of the time since I laid eyes upon that tiny black hole in my tooth in shock.  It has been a strange few days for me, isolating and devastating.  When I could, I threw myself into some labor in the yard.  Sunday and Monday, I tackled weeding all of my beds and watering by hand the bushes, ornamental trees, raised beds, pots, and baskets out in my haven and on all three porches, as well as cleaning and re-filling the four birdbaths and two fountains.  Tonight, I pruned the forsythia, the last of the major yard tasks for spring/summer.

Labor requires napping.  Lots and lots of napping.  Labor also requires not thinking.  By that I mean, labor, for me, is hours and hours of slow work in which I am alone, alone with my person and alone with my thoughts.

Sometimes, I can manage not to think.  To just be whilst laboring.  This is most easy when I am puttering in soil.  It is then that I can mostly meditate on the good gift of creation, one that continually awes me.  It is in this way that I think I have learned, in brief moments, to be still and know that I am God.  But when my mind cannot be still, when thoughts of what my life has become crowd too closely, I pray.

Sealing the fencing in the haven was not mere hours of work, but days.  During the first day, I prayed through the ins and outs of the lives of family and friends.   I did the same the second day, but I also included all of my doctors.  It was the third day that I began to listen to the sounds of my neighbors.

Amos is most particularly terrified by the sounds of the neighborhood, including my neighbors and the nature therein.  He is most at peace when we are out in the dead of night, where silence and stillness reigns.  I admit that I am most at peace when out in my haven, where the fencing also separates me from the hustle and bustle of the world around me.  I want the quiet of my space where the sounds I hear are the flow of water in the fountain and the tinkling of the wind chimes.  Well, those and whatever show or movie I might be streaming.

Before, when I listened to the neighborhood, I really only heard the cacophony, unless it was the arguing of my neighbors on both sides.  I was listening as a whole, to the collective of the neighborhood.  As I was moving the brush back and forth, back and forth, I started listening to the individual sounds of my neighbors.

Something that has saddened me is that most of the child's play I hear around me is centered on violence and death.  They mostly play at killing each other.  It is a sorrow of mine.  However, thanks to the rather loud talking of my neighbor, I learned that the pitiful musical noises coming from next door is the high school graduate giving music lessons.

I learned that a neighbor has a new baby.
I learned that a neighbor has started a new job.
I learned that a neighbor has a newly broken leg.
I learned that a neighbor has a new marriage.

Thinking about them as individuals is not really my strong suit, especially this time of year.  They are all just the NUTTERS around me who inside on using fireworks for every possible second of the fireworks-using period in this area.  Well, every possible second of the legal period and then some.

I started praying for them as individuals.  And, for the first time, I ask God to change to my heart about my neighbors on either side.  I cannot change their hurtful behavior, but I can change my attitude about them.

But it wasn't really praying about me, because I don't do that.  It was about praying for that baby, for getting the soothing that he/she needs ... and the love and the wisdom and the patience and the physical care and instruction in the catechism.

I prayed for the new job and all the ways he was going to be interacting with others, including those whom he would be serving or comforting.  I prayed for patience and wisdom and discernment.

I prayed for the marriage and the injury.  And I moved on to the others sounds I heard, such as construction and gardening and relationships.  I listened to the life around me and lifted it up to the Lord.

This listening ... I've continued.  Listening and praying.

Perhaps it is eavesdropping at medical offices.  At the dentist office, I heard a new mother despairing of her fatigue, so I prayed for her, the baby, and her family.  After all, I know a thing or two about fatigue.  I also prayed for an elderly gentlemen despairing of losing his teeth.  I clearly know about that!

It is weird, for me, to spend so much time listening and praying.  I mean, coming from the Bible Belt, praying is par for the course.  But I haven't ever been an ... interventional ... prayer like this.  Such a strange way to flee from my mind and my body, eh?