Gramasylum's Darker Side

Ok. Gramasylum isn’t  always oozing with giddy joy. There are times when you seriously wonder, “What was I thinking?!” This was one of those times.

Laurel Ana, LoLo, had stayed overnight with us on several occasions before. She loved coming to CeCe’s house and usually did not want to leave. But now she was showing signs of attachment and separation anxiety of late so I knew it might not be the same. She wanted to come this time, but she wanted her mommie or daddy to come with her. Wasn’t gonna happen.  Mommie was away on business and daddy had school. So LoLo was going to spend Sunday and Monday night with Cece. 

The complicating factor was that LoLo had also recently acquired a new skill. Mommie and daddy don’t know where she learned it, but it went like this. She would purse her lips, cross her arms tight, say, “I want _____”  (fill in the blank), then raise one leg bent at the knee, stomp it down hard, and just as the shoe hit the floor she would say, “Now!” The timing was impeccable. The message was quite clear. Whatever she wanted she was NOT waiting for.  Where she learned it I do not know either. Let’s just say though that it looked like she had practiced a lot.

On this particular occasion the new skill showed up in the middle of the night. Oh, she was priming for it earlier. She expressed the very normal desire to have her mommie before she went to bed, but it was a more gentle demand with just a slight whimper. Then at 1 a.m. she woke up crying. The crying turned to screaming—the kind of screaming that sounds like a child is being tortured and someone should call the police. I was afraid my neighbors might! No matter what I tried to do to console and comfort her it only escalated. So there we were in the middle of the hall and it began. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. She screamed, “I want my mommie.” Then the dramatic pause, the leg lifted bent at the knee and the foot came down with impeccable timing just as she finished her demand, “Now!” This was repeated several times. I tried to explain to her all the reasons she could not have her mommie now. This all interspersed with the police-summoning type screams. I was beside myself.  This is when I began to wonder. “What was I thinking?” Crazy oozing love, insane devotion, barrels and barrels of fun with Cece normally, but at 1 a.m.  it did not make any difference.

I had observed her parents helping her calm down on several occasions before. So I tried that.

“LoLo,” I said calmly, “would you like me to help you calm down?”

She replied with her arms crossed, “ I want my Mommie to help me calm down.”

And you know how the drill goes. She raised her leg with knee bent and brought it down as hard as she could and said, “Now!”

I realized at this point I had entered a darker corner of Gramasylum. No amount of reasoning, no amount of love, no amount of fun and games was going to deter this little woman from what she wanted. I knew that only two things would bring an end to this real life nightmare. I could get in the car and drive an hour to take her to daddy or I could let her scream and stamp herself to sleep. The signs of fatigue were beginning to show up. I did not want to be stubborn just to win a power struggle but my grama gut said that she could not keep this up much longer and that we were going to get through this alive. Exhausted, and I might have to explain the screams to a police person if they showed up at our door, but I made the decision to put my bet on her falling asleep before I would be in jail. We would make it. And deep in my heart I knew the oozing love, insane devotion, barrels of fun Gramasylum would return. This little dark corner was not going to take over my Gramasylum haven.

I told her she could call her mommie and daddy in the morning. Of course, she wanted to call them, “Now!” In faithful Gramasylum love tons I explained that that was not going to happen in the middle of the night. But I assured her that as soon as we slept a bit and woke up, we would call mommie and daddy.

She did eventually fall asleep. Sitting up on the love seat. Whimpering, “mommie, now” with her little leg  twitching in memory of the foot stamping routine of the night. Once the whimpering and the twitching ended, I gently laid her down on the love seat and went and collapsed on the other couch where I could keep an eye on her and be sure to be ready to make that phone call as soon as she woke up. It was about 2:30 a.m. The entire incident lasted just an hour and a half. I can’t remember if I slept after that. I just remember wondering, “what was I thinking?!” Gramasylum residency is better at feeling than thinking. So much love and affection for this child resides in me that I will try just about anything. Once.

She woke up in the morning. No screaming. No foot stomping. No demand for anything now. We called mommy and daddy. She was going to be all right. But even Gramasylum has its limits. I told her father that he needed to come and get her. I did not want to put her through another night like the last one and I didn’t think I would be very reliable if I went another night with little sleep and a lot of twitching. I said I would be glad to come to their house and take care of her the next day but I did not want to risk another night like this one we had just (barely) survived.

That was over a year ago. Since then, LoLo has stayed at our house overnight again. It took awhile for me to regain my Gramasylum confidence for overnighters! Eventually she stayed for a whole weekend. No pursing of lips, stamping of foot, or demands for anything “now.” I guess that was a phase. And this time when daddy returned to get her, she did not want to go home! Gramasylum returned full speed ahead.

I am sure there will be other times when I find myself doing something with my grandchildren, barely surviving, and wondering , “What was I thinking?!”  I think I will just purse my lips, cross my arms, and say, “I want Gramasylum,” and will raise my bended knee and stamp  my foot hard and say, “now!”

 

Nine Gnarly Years

Don gave me the cactus the first year I came to Downey. It was a
gnarly looking cactus in a big clay pot. The thorns were long and
black and, unlike many cacti, could be easily seen and avoided. I
called it my Don Juan cactus.

Don was a very handsome and gregarious eighty-one-year-old man and as
charming as they come. He was very active in the community and the
church, and had a reputation for two things: the gift of gab and
public prayers. He loved both and often they would mix.  His public
prayers frequently became long and flowery gab sessions with God. He
loved plants, too.  He had a back yard full of plants. Plants of every
size and shape and type spilled over into every space. Don loved
giving away clippings or complete plants. He gave me a cute little
potted cactus for my office to welcome me to First Presbyterian Church
of Downey.  He also gave me a clipping of a long and winding cactus. I
had no idea what I was going to do with it, and it really was not much
to look at. But I had a new back yard and was eager to begin filling
it with native flaura. Don showed me the big gnarly old cactus in the
big clay pot and told me he wanted me to have it. What was I going to
do with this? There was no way I could get it in my car. Don said that
was not a problem. He would deliver it later.  Understanding the
importance of accepting generosity in developing new relationships, I
agreed.  A few days later the big gnarly potted cactus arrived.

For nine years I watered the cactus on and off--not very consistently.
It did not seem to matter.  It actually looked quite nice in our back
yard and was a consistent conversation piece with new visitors. A few
years ago I found a very large spider hiding in its gnarly and thorny
branches.  When the spider ventured out one sunny afternoon far enough for me
to get a look at it, I discovered it was a black widow. In a
cold-blooded attempt to kill the spider, I sprayed the heck out of old
Don Juan with insecticide, determined to drown the spider if the
chemical did not kill it. Surprisingly Don Juan wasn’t phased in the
least by the chemical warfare. But old Don did not seem to be growing
either. If it was, it was imperceptible to daily observation. I never
measured the height either so I am really not sure if it has grown at
all. And seemingly, no new branches (is that what you call cactus
parts?).

At about seven years I realized the large and prominent thorns were
probably a danger to small children and since I had grandchildren on
the way we moved old Don Juan from along the main walkway to our
covered patio  into the back corner of the patio. Out of the way, it
posed less threat of harming anyone and it wasn’t doing much anyway.

Then it happened. In July of this year when I was watering plants, I
saw it. At the very top of the old gnarly cactus was a small bud about
the size of a large walnut.  After nine years the old gnarly cactus
was blooming! Just a couple days later a beautiful white and pink and yellow
flower opened atop old Don Juan. I was stunned. It was stunning. After
all these years with little sign of growth, this old cactus put out a
gorgeous flower.  The flower only lasted a day. Nine years of gnarly
waiting and then twenty-four hours of stunning beauty. I must say it
was worth waiting for.

And I must say that it caused me to think.  I thought about Don, who
gave me the cactus. He had died just three years after I arrived.
Every time I saw the old gnarly cactus I thought about Don. I thought
about how pleased he would be to know that I and the cactus had
persevered and now the cactus had bloomed.
It made me think a lot about people. So often I work with people and I
see so little visible sign of growth. Often, they also have thorny
exteriors that can cause others to avoid them or result in them being
put somewhere  more out of sight. Sometimes their lives hide things
that, when they come out--like the black widow spider--can cause an
overreaction in those around them who are trying to help.Thankfully,
these people often survive these ill-conceived remedies. And, like gnarly
old Don Juan, all of a sudden a bud appears. All of a sudden what
seemed to be a person who couldn't produce anything worth looking at,
presents a flower. A beautiful flower from a gnarly old cactus.

The analogy falls apart here because in my experience when this kind
of blooming happens with people, it usually lasts more than
twenty-four hours.  Although the flowering of a person might take a
long time, once it begins, it almost always continues, and the
blooming becomes more visible and more frequent.  I am so glad I
accepted the gnarly gift from Don. And I am so glad that I did not
kill it with chemicals. And I am so glad that, though I moved it to
the back of the patio, I continued to water it on occasion and that I
was there when it flowered.

The Lord has blessed me with many such encounters with flowering
people. I pray that the Lord will continue to give me the patience and
allow me to be in such places to see the flowering of his beloved gnarly
creations.

Cedric and Jesus

It was a long flight and a long day. We all have them. I had a 7:30 am meeting and then worked until noon. I finished my last-minute packing and headed to the airport at noon for my flight from LA to Atlanta with a stopover in Vegas.

I worked on the plane, so the time actually went by pretty fast. But I did not arrive in Atlanta until a almost midnight and then I had too pick up a rental car and head about 45 minutes north to my hotel. I am a penny pincher, so I reserved a car through Hotwire--much cheaper. I was on a week of business and then a week of vacation so I was bagged to the max. Thank goodness for Southwest's check-two-bags-free policy. But now I had to schlepp all these bags...a lot farther than I anticipated. When I finally made it to the rental car garage it was almost 1 a.m. I showed a young man my rental document with ”HOTWIRE” clearly displayed across the top. He pointed and said, ”There are only two cars left. The keys are in them you can take either one.”

I schlepped my bags a little farther and threw them into the car. I climbed in and and quickly surveyed the car to see where all the controls were situated. After what seemed a very long time at this hour I pulled out and headed for the exit with rental doc and ID in hand.

I greeted the gentleman at the gate and handed him my stuff. He took one look and said, ”I’m sorry but this is a Hotwire rental. I cannot help you. You need to go back to the rental counter." Now, remember, I had schlepped all these bags a very long way and had passed the rental counter hours ago (at least it seemed that way). I was a about ready to light into this guy when I remembered a recent sermon I preached (I hate it when this happens) and I saw the name tag--his name was Cedric. He was a person not a company. I decided to practice what I preach and treat this man as a valued person made in the image of a God and not as the company that was about to try and send me on a wild goose chase because I had rented on the cheap.

I said, ”Cedric, your my man. I have been traveling all day and I still have a long way to go. The other employee saw my reservations and directed me here, so I am not going back to the rental counter.” He said he could not process this rental at the booth, so he would have to call a supervisor. I thanked him and said, ”Cedric, we can do this. I am just asking you to try. I know you can help me. There’s got to be a way. Cedric,I am going to do what I can do. I am going to pray to the Lord Jesus to find favor for me, and you make that phone call.”

The supervisor put Cedric on hold.  After just a few minutes Cedric hung up and asked me to give him my credit card and ID. He was going to try to process it. I prayed some more. I don’t like driving in the dark any time, but especially not in a totally unknown city in the wee hours of the morning. I am not one to pray for things like parking spaces and green lights, but this felt potentially life threatening. I prayed.

All a of a sudden Cedric shouted, ”It went through!” I, though not charismatic, shouted ”Hallelujah!” Cedric laughed. I prayed again, giving thanks. I thanked him again (Cedric,that is) and said ”Cedric, don’t ever underestimate what you and Jesus can do!”

As I drove away I reflected on how close I had come to losing my cool and an opportunity to bear witness to the simple goodness of God--even in Atlanta at a car rental garage in the middle of the night. And the Spirit of God gently nudged ME that night a little closer to the sweet spot where life and ministry meet.

What helps you to treat people with respect and kindness when you are in stressful situations? What do you do when others disrespect or treat you poorly?