This is the second time I have celebrated my birthday in Australia. About twelve years ago I was in Perth writing a book, and I was blessed to have breakfast
in Perth, and some hours later, to have a late dinner in Durban. That was my longest birthday yet, and lasted 30 hours. This year that has been reversed - I am on a flight from Perth to Brisbane as I type this blog on a Qantas flight. My birthday is September 29th, and this year I LOST the six hours I had gained twelve years ago. I flew from Johannesburg to Perth, and landed six hours before midnight was due to strike in South Africa. If this SOUNDS very complicated, spare a thought for those of us who have to live through it.
I am in a position right now of needing to take strong tablets exactly every twelve hours. This is bad enough trying to keep focused in one time zone. I had everything worked out nicely. 10.00 a.m. on Sundays is a very convenient time between services in the morning, and I seldom, if ever, get to bed before ten. Even when I have a day off and am able to sleep in, ten o'clock is an eminently reasonable hour to arise. So ten and ten has been part of my routine for a few months, and I haven't needed to do more than look at my watch.
But THIS year my brain has gone a'wandering. It started on Sunday 29th Sept when I left home. I had ten o'clock firmly in my brain. On the dot of ten I shall swallow that pill, I decided. It sounded good and easy until I arrived on board at 10.10pm, with a delayed flight, missing pills, and a time change announced on the PA system. It is now precisely 6.10a.m. Perth time on September 30th 2013, announced the robotic tones of the lady who lives inside the PA system. That should have been the easiest adjustment to make, except that I was not in any position to take the tablets, because the plane was delayed, and I couldn't, for the life of me, remember in which of a dozen little bags spread among a handbag, a vanity case, and a cabin bag I had stashed the pills. By the time I got around to finding them, it was 11.30pm. I was an hour and a half late. My brain froze, and up to this point, has remained frozen.
I cannot tell you why this is so difficult, but it is. Last night I lay staring into the night in Perth, with my watch determinedly turned to South African time. I could have added six hours to the time on my watch, and set a timer to wake me then. But besides the other complications in my life, I have different tones for different notifications on my iPhone. Xylophones, harps, piano riffs, chirping crickets, and doorbells, signal to me that a message, an email, a team whatsapp, a personal whatsapp, a Facebook message, etc have come through. Crystal had set a timer for me to wake me at the designated time, but there I lay, worriedly contemplating my iPhone. Imagine going to sleep, peacefully and thankfully, to be woken by one chirping cricket after another! I had no idea until I was told at breakfast (Perth time, but the middle of the night South African time), that it was possible to silence every sound and still have the reminder go off to wake you. Steve Jobs WAS a genius, but it didn't help me last night.
This morning at the airport was worse. I gazed at my watch, sleep deprived and confused, trying to figure out what time I needed to take my pills. If Brisbane time is six hours ahead of South Africa, and Brisbane is two hours ahead of Perth, and it is still have four hours before I need to take my pill, when should it be swallowed? I felt as if I was back in school, trying to work out when two trains would collide if they were travelling towards each other at varying speeds. I think tormentors of children sit around working out "problems" like this. Why don't they ring the emergency bells, stop the trains, tell everyone to disembark and run like the wind to the nearest village to avoid the inevitable crash?
Guess what? My watch is stubbornly set to SA time, and it happily informs me that it is 10.30a.m. It is time to swallow my pills. No sooner have I done that than I shall start worrying about what the time is in Brisbane, but for now, at least, I can swallow and sleep for half an hour.
How glorious to know that God lives beyond the sphere of time. He never gets troubled when we do. He knows how to watch over us, when to remind us, and He never gets flustered. One day......... God bless you.
in Perth, and some hours later, to have a late dinner in Durban. That was my longest birthday yet, and lasted 30 hours. This year that has been reversed - I am on a flight from Perth to Brisbane as I type this blog on a Qantas flight. My birthday is September 29th, and this year I LOST the six hours I had gained twelve years ago. I flew from Johannesburg to Perth, and landed six hours before midnight was due to strike in South Africa. If this SOUNDS very complicated, spare a thought for those of us who have to live through it.
I am in a position right now of needing to take strong tablets exactly every twelve hours. This is bad enough trying to keep focused in one time zone. I had everything worked out nicely. 10.00 a.m. on Sundays is a very convenient time between services in the morning, and I seldom, if ever, get to bed before ten. Even when I have a day off and am able to sleep in, ten o'clock is an eminently reasonable hour to arise. So ten and ten has been part of my routine for a few months, and I haven't needed to do more than look at my watch.
But THIS year my brain has gone a'wandering. It started on Sunday 29th Sept when I left home. I had ten o'clock firmly in my brain. On the dot of ten I shall swallow that pill, I decided. It sounded good and easy until I arrived on board at 10.10pm, with a delayed flight, missing pills, and a time change announced on the PA system. It is now precisely 6.10a.m. Perth time on September 30th 2013, announced the robotic tones of the lady who lives inside the PA system. That should have been the easiest adjustment to make, except that I was not in any position to take the tablets, because the plane was delayed, and I couldn't, for the life of me, remember in which of a dozen little bags spread among a handbag, a vanity case, and a cabin bag I had stashed the pills. By the time I got around to finding them, it was 11.30pm. I was an hour and a half late. My brain froze, and up to this point, has remained frozen.
I cannot tell you why this is so difficult, but it is. Last night I lay staring into the night in Perth, with my watch determinedly turned to South African time. I could have added six hours to the time on my watch, and set a timer to wake me then. But besides the other complications in my life, I have different tones for different notifications on my iPhone. Xylophones, harps, piano riffs, chirping crickets, and doorbells, signal to me that a message, an email, a team whatsapp, a personal whatsapp, a Facebook message, etc have come through. Crystal had set a timer for me to wake me at the designated time, but there I lay, worriedly contemplating my iPhone. Imagine going to sleep, peacefully and thankfully, to be woken by one chirping cricket after another! I had no idea until I was told at breakfast (Perth time, but the middle of the night South African time), that it was possible to silence every sound and still have the reminder go off to wake you. Steve Jobs WAS a genius, but it didn't help me last night.
This morning at the airport was worse. I gazed at my watch, sleep deprived and confused, trying to figure out what time I needed to take my pills. If Brisbane time is six hours ahead of South Africa, and Brisbane is two hours ahead of Perth, and it is still have four hours before I need to take my pill, when should it be swallowed? I felt as if I was back in school, trying to work out when two trains would collide if they were travelling towards each other at varying speeds. I think tormentors of children sit around working out "problems" like this. Why don't they ring the emergency bells, stop the trains, tell everyone to disembark and run like the wind to the nearest village to avoid the inevitable crash?
Guess what? My watch is stubbornly set to SA time, and it happily informs me that it is 10.30a.m. It is time to swallow my pills. No sooner have I done that than I shall start worrying about what the time is in Brisbane, but for now, at least, I can swallow and sleep for half an hour.
How glorious to know that God lives beyond the sphere of time. He never gets troubled when we do. He knows how to watch over us, when to remind us, and He never gets flustered. One day......... God bless you.
That is so funny Fiona. You had me laughing out loud.
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