Well, it started on my birthday. I got two really lovely birthday cards, one from Donna and Dad and one from Tumama. Carla watched Lily so Matt could take me to the movies. And then Mom, the Pipkins, and Shelly’s household all called me on my birthday.
I guess that may not seem like a big deal to some people, but it meant a lot to me. I felt really loved on my birthday — I mean, really loved — because so many people had taken time out of their day just for my birthday.
So I was already feeling pretty darn special, and then Deb phones this morning and says, “Me, Kels, Lins, Mikey, and JoJo are all coming into town to clean your house for your birthday present. We’re going to mow and edge the lawn, and steamclean all the carpets. We’re going to clean the whole house.”
What a present!! Matt said, “What did we do to deserve a house cleaning?” And I said, “I don’t know. It’s so sweet of them to do this.” It really is a super present, so much so that I almost feel unworthy of it.
They decided to clean my house because of the recent journal entry I had posted about being depressed because my house was so filthy. Since I’ve written that entry, a mere three days ago, many things have happened. Matt and I bought a steam cleaner to clean the carpets and couches. I tidied up the whole house yesterday and started cooking again. Matt woke up this morning and said, “I have a lot of energy. I’m going to clean the garage today.” (He’s been working on it all morning, and it is looking much better.) And then Deb phones and says the Pipkin crew are coming down to do a complete cleaning of the house.
It all reminded me of one of Andrea Scher’s journal entries I had read a long time ago. I am a compulsive list maker. I write lists for everything. And, for a long time, I felt a little ashamed of all my lists, littered throughout my house and my life, because I thought they made me seem a bit freakish. “Why does she make so many lists? What a weirdo.” And then I read this journal entry, and for first the time, I was proud of my lists. She compared lists to prayers. A few quotes from the journal entry:
“These lists, the ones in the cigar box, are like my orders to the universe. The cigar box is my pnueumatic tube to heaven…. Maybe lists aren’t just lists to ourselves, but like placing our orders up to the universe. Maybe lists are like prayers.”
With everything that happened after the journal entry where I vented about the state of my house, I thought: you know, maybe journal entries are also like prayers. They are sometimes written with heartfelt emotion, practically bleeding onto the page. Pleading, begging, bargaining. “Please…” And, apparently, they don’t go un-heard.
You may see coincidence, but I’d rather see a conscious love. The world is much brighter, beautiful and more promising when viewed through that lens.
And, if some journal entries are prayers, then we must not forget the very important “Thank you” prayer. Thank you, universe, for listening to my cry in the night. Thank you, Deb, Kels, Lins, Mikey, JoJo and Matt, for helping me realize my dream of a clean house. Thank you everyone for thinking of me on my birthday.
Thank you.
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