Yesterday, my landlord sent me a threatening letter by the hand of a bailiff. I must take my emptied grocery boxes to the recycling bins in the garage. The janitor will no longer do it.
I have bone cancer and walking is very painful - and I certainly can't walk and carry large cardboard boxes. But the landlord has ordered me to do it anyway. I had to do it in spite of my pain.
I delayed buying groceries for about three weeks, but the well was running dry and pizza does nothing for my health. So, today, I ordered the groceries. But what to do about the boxes?
I pushed the two boxes onto the elevator with my walking stick. Then what? I have too much pain to move the boxes to the basement and across the garage to the other end of the building.
I like to think God and I found a way. There is something in the Bible about "waiting on the Lord".
I remember that when God told Moses to talk to Pharaoh, Moses said he couldn't. Perhaps he was afraid. Perhaps he stuttered. But, anyway, Moses tells God he can't speak to Pharaoh. God will provide: Moses' brother Aaron spoke for him.
So today, I got on the elevator with the two boxes and I slid down against the wall - and waited for God to find a way.
A few women got on the elevator with children in strollers and offered to help, but I refused. I would not burden them or distract them from their children.
A pizza delivery man got on the elevator and wished me a good day.
Another man asked if I was alright, but when I said I had to bring the boxes to the recycling and I was in pain, he left me - reluctantly.
Then another tenant got on the elevator and, with some confidence, asked if he could help. I told him I had to get the boxes to the recycling bins and he decisively offered to help.
Since he was young and fit, I agreed. He got off the elevator with the two cartons, but I was still in too much pain to stand up.
Then another tenant got on the elevator. He asked if he could help. He was tall and strong and so I let him help me to my feet. OW ! That hurt my hip.
I asked if he was Muslim and he said he was. I asked if today was Eid ul Fitr. And he said it was three days ago. I apologized for missing it and wished him a happy Eid anyway.
He lives on the sixth floor. "Closer to heaven", I said. He laughed.
As I was about to get off, God whispered in my ear and I turned back.
"You won't find many virgins up there," I said. And we both laughed.
Problem solved for the moment. What next?
Guillotine ! Guillotine !
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