Think About . . . Not Being Sick

bedding-pillows

I am lying in bed trying to get comfortable. I've flipped my pillow over a dozen times. Covers off, covers on. Heating pad. Ice pack. I am sick. And I am grumpy. I had the week planned. Fun times with son before school starts, play date with kids and movie on Wednesday. I am to get my first 5-hour infusion of a new drug Friday with babysitter all arranged, husband driving me there and getting off work early to bring me home. Plans with friends on Saturday night if I feel up to it after the infusion. Instead I find myself trying to decide between nibbling on a saltine or a Ritz. What would be more likely for me to keep down? I have nothing positive to find in this I say to myself. People would be so disappointed in me. … [Read more...]

Where Is The Justice?

justice

46 million people are on food stamps, 15 percent of Americans. July saw the highest level of layoffs in 16 months, the steepest jump since the recession. The president promises that the next few months will be about jobs. The reporters says it's all about. . . Jobs. Jobs. Jobs. But talking about jobs doesn't make them materialize. People are still hungry. I read Jeremiah 33:2-3. "'This is what the Lord says, He who made the earth, the Lord who formed it and established it-—the Lord is His name: 'Call to Me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.'" Life is messy. But God is still on the throne. He says to call to Him and He will answer and He will tell me … [Read more...]

My Grandmother’s Table

grandmastable

1954. My mother's mother got a new table. My mother was in third grade. Each day she came home from school and sat at it and had popcorn and grape juice. Now it sits in my home. My grandmother has been in heaven for over a decade. Her table traveled 1500 miles to reside in my kitchen. I have photos of me sitting in a baby bathtub on this table. I sat at it as a child. Grandma, can I have one more piece of cobbler? Even as a child I remember my grandmother's Bible sitting on this table. When I sit at it, I can feel her love. When I read my Bible at it, I feel God's love. My grandmother had feet that were very broken down. She always wore special shoes to help her keep walking. Grandma would sit down at this table after a … [Read more...]

Saturday Morning Obstacles

hotwheels

Without hesitation I get out of bed. . . Ugh! The knee won't bend. I cannot put weight on it. A tiny piece of bone has moved into a place it should not be sometime during the night. And it is stuck. Oh, not today, Lord. Pleee-eee--ase, not today. If only we could be pain-free on the weekends. I lean over on the bed with my arms and try to bend and unbend the knee as my husband snores. He got home from work sometime around midnight. It was a deadline day. It was an impossible deadline. He worked 15-hour days all week and still didn't make the deadline. He will have to go back into work today, Saturday. I try putting weight on my foot again. Wince. Moan. I try to vocalize my pain quietly. I limp to the living room. Chair. I need a … [Read more...]

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning?

foilage

It was my idea. I wanted my son to experience camping. So in July, we went to visit Grammy and Poppy (my parents) and we all headed to the campground at the beach. The boys slept in the tent, my mom and I in the camper. Night number one: My left shoulder freezes up so I cannot move it more than an inch. I won't be sleeping on that side. We get ready for bed. Mom and I hike to the bathrooms. I think I am a "city" girl now. I don't like hiking to bathrooms like I once did. My Cuddle Ewe mattress doesn't even seem to be on the makeshift bed. I am sleeping on foam cushions over the table. It only feels like a table. How did I do this for weeks as a child? 4 AM I get up and squeeze myself into the camper bathroom, then go back … [Read more...]

He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother

brother-motorcycle

I give him a hug. It's been nearly 3 years since I've seen this man, my cousin, who is like a brother to me. He used to give me rides on his motorcycle, back when we were young and carefree. Nothing in the world could hurt us. We were in our twenties. Long conversations. Time. Before spouses, kids, illness. We were poor. Philosophical conversations were cheap. . . yet rich. Now I stop by his family's new clothing store while I am in Oregon. I've not even arrived, and I am disappointed. I have few expectations. His life is busy now. He's distracted. He is rushed. Always stressed. No time for talk. Oh, how I'd like to just go for a walk. Ask, "How are you really?" and have you answer honestly. Regardless of your … [Read more...]

Finding Calmness in the Lack of Chaos

roses2

I can't seem to find my voice. I usually have so much to say, thoughts that must get down on paper. But I cannot think in complete sentences. Nothing seems worth saying. A ten-day trip rejuvenated me. . . and exhausted me. I want to cocoon into my own world for a few days. Oddly, I can. My son is at day camp. I have nothing I must do. My husband works late. No need for dinners. Mac and cheese. Peanut butter. Popcorn. I know. Not the best meals. But sometimes every mother just says, "Why not? What harm will it do to have popcorn for dinner?" My email program is broken. I am running a "restore feature." It's been running two days. I can't go through the normal routine of "back to work." It's seems foreign to not have … [Read more...]

He Wants to Fish

fishing-son

"Mom, I want to go fishing. It's free!" I pick up my son from day camp. It's 4 PM. It's 95 degrees. Today they fished at the lake during camp. He has his pole his Grandpa got him 2 years ago. He's used it twice. Now he wants to fish more. I could barely walk down the paved trail to sign him out of camp. My feet are swollen, sore. I am faint from the heat. I hope to make it back to the car. I joke about that, but sometimes I wonder. He stops. He sticks his chest out. His lip curls up. "You aren't seriously going to have a tantrum over this, are you?" I ask. . . calmly of course. I am not one for unplanned battles. Walking down a boat landing and onto the dock is non-negotiable. I have no need to feel guilty. Grandpa … [Read more...]

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