Chicken

August 13th. It was a Thursday. In the afternoon, I had a stomach ache. "Okay. I'll just have some tummy tea. It will pass. I hope, I hope!" Nope! My stomach ache continued. Then, what I had for lunch "came back." I'm still hoping, it will pass. A LONG night on the sofa. Friday morning was the time to admit defeat. "Okay. Let's go to the ER." I thought, "Here we go again! Another three days in the hospital. They stick a long tube down your nose--OW! They suck you out for a day. Then they put gastrografin down your tube. Gastrografin is Drano for people! That gets you goin'. I know the drill." Instead, the surgeon comes in looking worried. "We gotta do surgery NOW!" My Sweetie starts crying. My daughter shows up to be with her. Thank you, Dear! Me, they wheel me into the operating room. It's cold! The anesthesiologist puts something in my IV. Everything goes dark. I wake up as they're wheeling me into a room. The happy juice is still working. So, I can pretend to be considerate. I know my Sweetie had planned to go to some yard sales with her son Saturday morning. Since the happy juice was still working, I could pretend to be considerate. "You're exhausted! I got to sleep during the operation. You were in the waiting room. Worrying, praying, and crying. Go to the yard sales tomorrow!" During the night, the happy juice wore off. A LONG night. My Sweetie did go to some yard sales Yay! She brings in a chicken. A chicken about 18 inches tall. Made with real feathers! She puts the chicken on the shelf. When somebody comes in, pointing a needle at me, I look at the chicken. I'm a chicken when it comes to needles! That chicken on the shelf also reminds me of Jesus' words. "How often I wanted to gather you, like a mother hen gathers her babies under her wings. But you were not willing." Matthew 23:37. Our Gospel reading for this Sunday is about how God is always inviting us to come. To be gathered, like a bunch of peeps, sheltering under mamma's wings. I still got the Chicken Sweetie gave me. She's on the shelf over there. (The chicken, not Sweetie!) For today, instead of thinking of prayer as telling God what to, let me instead imagine prayer as resting under God's wings. For today, even though the happy juice wore off long ago, let me pretend to be considerate. Chicken reminds me, God is always inviting me Home.