My Monthly Fiasco

One of my favorite jobs I ever had (and I’ve had lots of jobs) was working as a home health aide. I would go into the patients home, check their vitals and assist them with their baths.

One of my funniest, and most annoying patients, was Mrs. Miller. This woman had tons of money, but she was so tight she squeaked when she walked.

She was in her eighties and walked on a walker. When I would tell her it was time to get a bath, she would moan and groan in excruciating pain as she got up out of her chair. It would take her fifteen minutes to wobble to the bathroom, moaning in pain the entire time. It was rather heartbreaking.

She would also hoard up things. She probably grew up in the depression, so that’s somewhat understandable. One of the things she had hoarded was maxi pads. I mean, she had an entire hall closet full of them! Obviously, she was way past menopause, but she used them for incontinence.

One day I had driven quite a way, before arriving to her house so when I got there I really had to go to the bathroom. I made small talk with her, then asked if I could use her bathroom. Of course she said yes. When I got in there I realized ‘Aunt Flo’ had come for a visit. For those of you who might not be familiar with that term…I had started my period.

Well, knowing that Mrs Miller had a closet full of pads, I didn’t panic. I went in the living room and told Mrs. Miller what had happened and asked if I could get one of her pads. I was about to tell her just to sit still, that I knew where they were, but I didn’t have a chance to say another word. What happened next left me standing there with my mouth gaping open.

Mrs. Miller all but leapt from her chair. Her feet barely touched the floor, and that walker was moving so fast, all you could see was a streak of silver! This, from a woman who moaned in pain the entire fifteen minute wobble to the bathroom! I sprinted behind her.

When we got to the closet, she scrambled around until she finally pulled out this one, lone pad. It wasn’t in a box, but buried deep in the back of the closet.

This thing was so long, it went from belly button to back bone. There was no sticky strip. This thing required a belt! Which, of course, she said she didn’t have. How dang old was this thing?! I was mad and busting a gut inside, all at the same time.

I threw the pad over my shoulder and headed back to the bathroom. There was no other choice. Needless to say, the minute I left her house I went straight to the store! I tried my best not to walk funny, and I was super thankful that my shirt was long!

Sometimes, this is how I treat God. I hoard up all my time for the things I want to do, and give Him whatever is leftover. Or maybe He asks me for something, and instead of giving Him my best, I give him just enough to make me feel better.

God deserves to have our best. He doesn’t want us digging to the back of our closets pulling out something we don’t want, and calling that giving. When He asks us for something, He expects us to hand over our best pad so to speak.

Do your best to please God. Be a worker who doesn’t need to be ashamed. 2Timothy 2:15

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