Thoughts from a massage chair...

There will be NO pictures with this blog entry...

Yesterday, I went and got a pedicure.  It was a spur of the moment decision.  Someone had given me a gift certificate.  It's a 'walk-ins are possible' type place.

I went because I'm really, really tired.  I'm finding that I can get really tired even after doing good things.  We had a women's event this last weekend, I spoke for the Mother's Day service on Sunday, we then drove to Salem for a minister's meeting in another town - but needed to come home early so Dennis could go to another meeting on behalf of the city.  Check in with my parents.  Tired.

So, I went for a pedicure.  People seem to love pedicures.  I can count on one hand the amount of pedicures I've had.

Picture this...
Four big recliner type deals with optional vibration and roller-type massage thingy's that you enjoy, if you choose.  The man in the chair two down from me liked the "shake your head a lot" option offered by the massage chair.  The lady next to me - the major full body roller that made the chair sound like it was in distress everytime the roller rolled up her back.  On my other side I had the "absolutely no massage" lady. She felt VERY strongly about this.

And all of our feet are up on display for the convenience of the professional person assigned to each of us.  But, we could all get a good gander at each other's feet.  (No comment needed.)

The "I like my head to shake a lot" guy basically went to sleep.

The lady next to me spent most of the time explaining to her nail lady about her life long challenge with webbed toes, and how embarressing it had been for her growing up.

On the other side - there was mainly a lot of talk about Las Vegas and how old a child should be before you take them there.

You notice I haven't talked much about my conversation?  Because there wasn't any.  I had....a (I won't say elderly) older Vietnamese man giving me my pedicure.  Who did not speak to me.  There was tapping, and pointing, but no talking.  He did a fine job.  It was just different than I expected.

In my listening chair I heard (on one side) about a great church that made the complete difference to whether that woman liked living in Grants Pass or not.

On the (Las Vegas) side I heard the tech say out loud that he had found nothing that had made him happy.  The chair dweller lady responded with, "of course he was happy - he has a family and a house and a nice car - of course he is happy".

I left with better looking feet, but a broken heart and a new face to pray for.  I know I was in the listening chair for a reason.

I've had many 'listening chair' experiences recently.  Have you?  Are you finding that there are divine appointments all over the place?  Last week I listened for a good 20 minutes to a lady that I had never seen before tell me about her life struggles - - - in front of the lettuce at Albertsons.  Without introduction she just began to hand me her heartache....

Lord, help us.  Help us to really LISTEN.  To sit when you ask us to sit.  To stand where you ask us to stand.  To speak when you give us words of life to share.  To pray when you so trust that we WILL pray.

Offered with love . . .   Jeanette


Comments

dianne kirkwood said…
Very dear, thank you.

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