|Courtesy Aly Huges|
If that isn't enough, I'm a sorry excuse for a writer. I'm verbose. Line edits get by me because I usually post in the wee, wee hours. Adverbs are my best friend. Dangling participles hide where I least expect them so that you can mock me from afar. You get the drift. I'm |this| far from abandoning ship and leaving you on lifeboats to get by without me. Would you notice?
I stopped looking at the blank page tormenting me and clicked over to facebook hoping for some mindless distraction. It was either that or solitaire. I chose the lesser of evils. Apparently, everyone was at the beach, pool, water park, or sleeping in because my wall feed was as dead as a doornail. I stared at the screen willing someone to wake up and give me something to do other than write a blog post. A status update posted from a friend. Are you ready for this because I wasn't:
“Sometimes God redeems your story by surrounding you with people who need to hear your past so it doesn't become their future.” (J. Cuff )
Hah! Did you know I'm Presbyterian? And any GOOD Presbyterian would tell you that comment did NOT pop up on my wall feed by accident. No Sirreee! They'd tell you that was Providence. A post card from God to me via my friend, Colleen. The fraidy cat in me calls it 'coincidence'.
|birthdays were all the sweeter|
We made it thru the years the locust ate from 2001-2005. We began the tentative journey toward putting our lives back together. I was sure, I mean really, really sure that God was going to restore us to a better place than we had been before everything fell apart. I was sure he was going to do that, so I could comfort my boys and say, “See, God really was watching. He really did care. He really does refresh and replenish what he strips away when his time is right.” He was going to redeem our story by allowing me to tell you and you and you about what happened and how we were healed of all the war wounds we had sustained even as we were being as obedient as we knew how to be.
|birthday picnic for our then 17YO|
God had different plans. He did not consult me when he made them. So, here we are now, arm wrestling while you watch. Sigh. I'm so tired. I'm tired of cheering a God I don't understand. I heard you gasp in shock. Don't worry, I've already told him. He's not shocked. In fact, I had been telling him for a while that I was about to break- that I'd had all I could stand. He kept saying, “Oh..you THINK so, do you...? Let me show you what I think about that conviction of yours.” And, slowly event stacked on top of event until I found myself flip flopping 360 degrees down a hill with a leg that had just snapped in 3 places. In mid-fall, as I was facing the rain saturated sky, I said, “What part don't you get? I told you I can't take anymore...and this is the anymore I can't take. I'm done. I don't know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did....”
But, I'm getting ahead of myself here. I need to back up and tell you about the time it seemed life was going to return to a new and better normal than our little family of 4 had ever known before. I wasn't going to. I really wasn't. I had decided you all like me much better when we are laughing hilariously over my determination to conquer technology or my renovation induced ADD. So, I was going to become the Erma Bombeck of the blogosphere. Take THAT fraidy cat!
|Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative|
You can blame my change of heart on Colleen. I was sitting here in the waiting room thinking surely I could find some black, macabre humor among the folks that populate this place today. In fact, one of my other friends, Cindy, walked up and laughed because they couldn't find us anywhere on the OR schedule. Then, they realized my husband was scheduled to be at the OR center and the hospital on the same day at the same time for the same surgery. She said, “Oh...I can't wait to see this blog post!” My wheels had already started spinning. I was so relieved. I could be the funny girl, and you'd love me because I was funny and irreverent and hip and cool and carefree. I might not have the picturesque implication of a stress free life, but for a few minutes every day, I could pretend that my life is as lovely as Ree Drummond's.
|Courtesy B. Creasy|
Psalm 119: 16-17 (NIV)
May my cry come before you O Lord; give me understanding according to your word. May my supplication come before you; deliver me according to your promise.