Sunday Dilemmas

Sundays are a day of rest for most people and while it is a "work day" for us, the hours between morning and evening services are usually pretty laid-back and restful for us as well.


Today, however, I faced two dilemmas.


The first was simple and quite frankly, a no-brainer for me. My dogs were looking a little mangy and needed grooming. Princess, part poodle, has hair no clippers can get through. Even after brushing. And without the guard on. So it takes at least an hour with scissors before I can buzz her. Anabelle has such sensitive skin that she acts like she's in a torture chamber so I must groom with one hand while holding her still with the other. Isabella is easy to groom but entirely too hyper and will maim you with her Edward Scissorhands claws.


For that reason, my husband considers grooming them pretty close to breaking the Sabbath.


I disagreed.


My upcoming week is full. There would be no time until Friday at least. They were scratching more than usual and seemed really uncomfortable. Besides, I love taking care of my dogs. I spent four empty nest years between kids and dogs and a part of me needs to be Mommy.


So for me it wasn't work.


It was love.


Two hours into the process as I started thinking maybe my husband was right, my phone rang.


And the real dilemma began.


Susan wanted me to go with her to get her stuff from Ronald's camp. He'd beat her the night before and she left without taking anything. She didn't want to go alone but she needed to go before he burned everything she had.


I told her I'd call her back tomorrow and set something up.


My dilemma isn't going on a Sunday. While I generally avoid scheduling anything street-related on Sundays, there are exceptions in cases of emergency. This wasn't an emergency that had to be handled today.


My dilemma wasn't that she'd gone to stay with her sister, though the situation there was harrowing. Living in a pop-up camper in the tiny backyard of a friend, Susan's sister and her husband could be classified homeless themselves. Excessive drinking has caused volatile relations between Susan and her sister, Susan and her brother-in-law, and the married couple repeatedly in the past. It won't last long.


Yet still, these were not my biggest concerns.


My dilemma is that sitting on my desk are two checks for Ronald and Susan. One to pay the utility deposit and the other to pay the first month's rent on a new apartment. I was supposed to pick them up at 9 A.M. tomorrow.


Now what?


Who gets the apartment isn't up for debate. The application was in Ronald's name; he has the income to sustain it. Susan knew this, and in a moment of foreshadowing, declined to add her name to the lease application weeks ago. So the current situation changes nothing in the process.


Except my heart.


I've done some serious soul-searching this evening. Can I draw a line? Should I? You can be a drug addict, an alcoholic, a convicted felon and I'll help you. But when you hit a woman I'm through? Is that what Jesus did?


And then there's the guilt. I don't usually allow guilt to get even a foothold in my life, but I can't help but feel a little responsible.


The closer Ronald got to moving in, the more he manipulated Susan. If she didn't go to the store for him, wash his clothes, fill up the water jugs, etc. he would leave her behind in the tent they'd shared for the last ten years. She became angry at being controlled, he told me she was just stressing out, and I gave them the same speech I'd given my grandson just last week.




At the oldest, Joe Gunn is ten and was the only one who'd not gotten to come alone to Grandpa's house this summer. Dade, the youngest at four, has spent several weeks alone with us and doesn't understand why he can't come every time. So while Hollyn, the middle child and only girl, was here, Joe Gunn began talking about his trip to Dade.


"I'm going to Grandpa's next."
"No, me."
"No, Dade. It's my turn. You already went."
"I wanna go too."
"Okay, if you want to go, you have to clean my room." Followed by, "You have to let me play with your new Gameboy." And so on.


When his turn finally came, he was joined by not only his brother, but his sister as well. While this was due to circumstances beyond his control, I took the opportunity to share how manipulating his brother was wrong and not something the Lord would bless.


I had that same conversation with Ronald the very next day.


Apparently, the ten-year-old is the only one who received it.


So now I'm sitting here, frustrated at my part in this situation, and aggravated at Ronald. I also have to find someone to go with me now because I can't travel alone with him (the utility company is one town over) and I have to find time to help Susan get her stuff. I have no idea who Ronald will get to move in with him, but he'll need someone because he can't care for himself. Susan'll be back eventually, she always is, but for now I have to worry that the apartment will turn into a drug den. I just developed a working relationship with Ronald's new landlord and I'd like it to not be destroyed right off the bat.


I'm comforted by one thing only: the Word of God. Matthew 6:34 says, Take therefore no thought for the morrow; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.


It's time to enjoy the rest of my Sunday.