“The Day Which The Lord Hath Made”
Friends? Amen that we may all take it for granted that the heavens are truly open for us, the children of God during our periods of prayer and supplication! That the angels are ready to be dispatched to our world…..our Father being totally happy to see us rejoicing as we receive the direct reply from His own throne!
My hearty prayer at that time was a dire need for some rest. A much needed longing to take a break and relax! A rest from phone calls. Calls made and untimely calls received. A rest from running vigorously, tripping over things in my way…to pick up the receiver before the ravenous answering machine invaded the atmosphere. A simple rest from what my nervous system termed as a hauling merciless monster: The telephone …in our home.
The previous night, I had called my missionary friend Suzan, to schedule our next meeting for the Arabic lesson. The lines were gracious to me. The next thing we knew moments later was, the blessed telephone decided to quit breathing.
Checking the machine as a whole, nothing has changed; the power light , the charge lights were glowing. The heart beat of the phone itself???? Gone.
The instrument was dead cold-- as a marble slab lying dormant under the freezing elements of Noël. What a great benefit of answered prayers….
I exclaimed inwardly, “What a privilege! What a joy! Hallelujah. The telephone died!”
I promised myself a bonus of at least twenty-four hour’s repose from the “Buzz. Buzz…Buzz”
GLORY! No more friends to keep count of my lifestyle, whether I was sleeping; or a shrill astonished query in a message “why on earth did you leave so early? Is this Farmers’ Market day?”
The next day we rose early, failing to know the reason-- too early for normal people who read late in the night. Yet with the morning prayers, we sent a great petition heavenward for a miracle.
By noontime, my resting perspective reached its summit. All duties and chores were fully accomplished, our home was extremely spotless. With none of the daily-dialing disruptions or uncomfortable calls, I imagined I was free to do what I wanted. I accomplished more than I expected... I said to myself, “You know? You now deserve a nap”
So I went stealthily to bed; comfortably slipping between my compassionate flannel bed sheets….and I waited…expecting blissful sleeps during this heavenly calm and stillness.
All of a sudden….I felt a gripping, unimaginable quietness! This is a totally different quietude from what we are normally accustomed to! My fast beating heart longed hungrily for the tones of the telephone. That, I learned too late, had been my only link with the outside world….
Oh how I wished the lifeless telephone might ring. I missed the voice of Alvera my prayer partner as we shared prayers and praises through the woes and joys of the world. I longed for my writer friends with their warm concerned voices.
Even my sister’s voice that reached me daily and lovingly from Egypt, I missed that too.
I pined for my three-year-old grandchild Jasmine’s sweet voice calling, Teita (Grandma) you know I love you;” or reporting the evening news, “the sun went to bed, so I have to sleep, nightie-nightie.”
I discovered a truth I cannot deny, that except for the telemarketers, I cannot deny, there is indeed great love nestling behind most of the incoming calls.
I will surely agree with the poet Ogden Nash for saying:
“Someone invented the telephone and interrupted a nation’s slumbers,
Ringing wrong but similar numbers!”
Yet, so help me Lord… Never, ever, again will I utter that selfish sentence, “What a privilege! What a joy! Hallelujah. The telephone died.”
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