This past Friday, I went to see the nurse practitioner for the psychiatrist I chose from my medical plan. I've never been to see a counselor let alone a psychiatrist and I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I followed the nurse into the room. Instead of an examination table, there were two easy chairs and a love seat. It was a very comfortable room. The walls were light blue and the chairs were almost navy. After 45 minutes of questions and answers, the nurse said she was going to prescribe Zoloft and explained why.
To me, it's always fascinating to have someone describe me to me. You know, like in the personality tests and such "you are like so...you like this...you don't like that." It's cool to me because I can agree or disagree, depending on how good - or how bad - the analysis is. In this case, the nurse was spot-on. No need to disagree. So, when she told me that she had prescribed Zoloft to others who she had seen with some of the same problems, I felt pretty good about at least trying it. We also talked about alternative medications, but came back to the original recommendation for Zoloft. I was given the long list of possible side-effects as well as the anticipated results and was anticipating seeing how it would affect me.
But, a funny thing happened on my way out of the office (not like the joke, "on the way to the office..." Never mind. Bad joke) ...the nurse forgot to give me the prescription. I eventually called the office and was able to get the prescription called in. Currently, I am waiting on the doc's approval to get the prescription - hopefully tomorrow. Still I was disappointed. I wanted to see if this medication might be what I've been looking for for the past year or so. I went on home to get back to work on my house.
Earlier in the week, after I had scheduled the appointment, my sister contacted me about her, my brother-in-law, their daughter and two grandchildren coming to our house. My brother- in-law is a master plumber and we had been talking about him doing some work on our shower. In the course of our most recent conversation, he said he would just come in on Friday and take care of our plumbing problem. We really needed the work done, but didn't realize just how extensive the work would be. It wasn't going to be a matter of replacing one pipe, but everything in the house. Talk about surprise! It's a good thing I took the whole day off. I needed every minute before we were done.
To make matters worse, it's already June here in southeast Texas and the temperature is already hitting the mid 90's in the afternoons. Now add another 20 or 30 degrees and that's supposedly the temperature in the attic. The high on Friday was 96, so we were working in 116-126 degree conditions for the entire day.
We got started around 6 AM doing the preparatory work. I had to shower before my Dr.s' appointment and left around 9:30 AM. I returned about 12:30 PM, changed clothes and went into the attic. By then, the temperatures outside were nearing the high for the day. The air in the attic was so hot that it burned my nose and mouth when I inhaled. My shirt was wet after just a few minutes. My brother-in-law was the brains of this operation and would have to cut and fit the pieces for the new connections being installed. He also had hurt one of his knees recently, so I had to do the crawling around in the attic just because I could.
My brother-in-law lined me out on what I needed to get done and he went back down the attic ladder and left me to myself and the pipe work. These were old, galvanized metal pipes that undoubtedly had rusted long ago (hence my plumbing problem) and the progress on the job would be difficult. As anyone who knows me can attest, I do not like being hot or dirty - or both. I'm not a pleasant person to be around if I'm one, or the other - or both. But, here I was, about to embarque on a very difficult task in a difficult environment. It was at this moment that the Peace came.
I can't really explain what it was other than a sense of calm resolve. I also felt that God was in the attic with me. It was in that moment I said "God, I embrace all of this - the heat, the dust & everything else. I want to do this with You today." In that moment, it was if He said in response "Okay."
For the next 10 hours, I did all sorts of things I didn't think I could have done before. However, most remarkable to me was that I didn't get nearly as frustrated and lose my temper as I often do on smaller, less difficult projects. Instead, I enjoyed this - despite getting a little too hot a few times and coming down with cramps. It may have helped that I was working with my brother-in-law, who, in addition to being a plumber, is also an ordained minister. Perhaps that was all part of the plan. My sister noted at the end of the day, that despite having worked together all day and being extremely tired, though we were a little cranky, we weren't out of sorts with each other. I had to agree with her. I've lost my head with people on lesser jobs.
I realize to someone who might be reading this that it doesn't sound like that big a thing that happened to me. I have to say it was huge and profound on a lot of levels. I probably could have had the same experience during a walk or over a cup of coffee. But, I didn't. My attic was my own little chapel last Friday. I have to believe that if I can find Peace in a place like that, I should be able to find it anywhere, anytime I need it.
And maybe that's the whole point: to steal away somewhere - where there aren't any of the normal distractions - in order to connect with God. Of course, such a place could be anywhere: behind the wheel of a car, in one's bedroom, along a scenic walkway or sitting on the toilet in your bathroom. Whatever it is, it's just important to connect with God while you're there.
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