It was unexpected that I would awaken on Sunday morning with a migraine. I used to have those most dreaded headaches W A Y back in my early thirties. But, as I headed closer and closer to forty (like a freight train out of control, barreling down the tracks) they gradually dissipated, and disappeared.
I always felt very fortunate that I was never sick to my stomach, or needed to go to the hospital for stronger relief. I simply would take Ibuprofen, and go to bed, to sleep it off (of course my kids were ten years younger then, so it was not so easy to just go to bed).
So, when I awoke on Sunday morning, with a mental to do list, I was floored … almost literally! As the radio alarm went off, and my brain kicked into wake up mode, I knew it would not be easy to open my eyes.
I staggered as far as the back door in our kitchen, to let the beast out to do her morning thing, praying all the while that a squirrel wouldn’t divert her attention, and force me to maintain my vertical position for any longer than necessary. Thankfully she returned to the confines of our home, and I returned to the confines of my room, where the Ibuprofen is stored! Once an ample quantity was swallowed, I crawled back into bed, and told hubby I would be a no-show at church, and he would need to inform our lunch guests that they were uninvited (but I would reschedule).
Then, I rolled over, and slept … and slept … and slept … until 9:52am … that never happens!
When I awoke, the migraine had been down-graded to a headache. So, I popped more Ibuprofen, and headed to the next best cure of a morning headache … coffee! Although it was physically painful to hear the beans being ground, the first whiff of it’s delightful scent made the pounding subside, all on it’s own!
As the sun was shining, and the birds were singing, I took my cup of brew to the back deck, where I could put my feet up, and close my eyes (funny how I headed to the light with a headache, but if you lived where I do, and were experiencing the ‘non-summer’ which was preceded by the ‘non-spring’ you would understand that, in this context, sunshine can always be enjoyed … but, I digress).
Soon after getting into position, out came daughter number one, followed by daughter number two, followed by only son. And it was good. We talked, we laughed, and not a form of technology was in sight! I needed this even more than I had needed the Ibuprofen and the coffee.
It amazes me how, when you need it most, and are not wise enough to acknowledge it, rest is provided … just usually not in the way we would like, or could plan. But when we need it, when every fiber of our being cries out for it, our bodies make it happen.
June is a busy month, but July is heaven, for those of us who go to, or work at a school. I usually find that the first week of summer break is family hibernation week. No one really seeks out socializing, we just cocoon at home … together. And I love it (what can I say, I am a natural at cocooning).
But, this year I am working through July, and, when I am home, I am still working … sending emails, making phone calls. So, our first week off together, was not … together, at all. One hot evening (I think there was only one or two last week), as they all hopped in the pool, I was still returning emails, and making calls, despite their invites and pleading to join them.
By the end of last week (Saturday night, to be exact) I was complaining bitterly to hubby that I was feeling a heap of ‘momma guilt’ for not spending time with our kids (other than bellowing out orders … consider this confession time …). He was not so sympathetic … seriously, men just do not get women (and this is news to me and you? I don’t think so!)! And made some comment about how our kids are not suffering for attention (which is true, but what he didn’t ‘get’ was that I was suffering … for time with my kids … he does usually get it when it is he, who I am suffering to spend time with … just sayin’).
So, Sunday morning, I got my hearts desire … just in a not so desirable way. My body said ‘STOP’ … and I did, because I had no choice. And, as I sat out on our deck, steaming coffee in hand, my heart swelled with thankfulness for the provision of time … unplanned, unscripted … not contrived by a human mind, but handed to me, to us, by a heavenly Father who hears the cries of my heart.
“O how marvelous! O how wonderful!
And my song shall ever be:
O how marvelous! O how wonderful!
Is my Savior’s love for me!”
(I want to declare right here and now that I do not like people who insist on walking their undisciplined dogs off leash, on a trail (my trail) that is not an off leash trail … there, I feel better now).
very common, how very painful and how very life-changing they are on those who share such experiences.
The reason for the emotional and physical reactions to the mention, and then reading of that scripture is that one night, as I slept, after the loss of our first child, I had a dream. The dream was of a man, I do not remember what he looked like, but I knew, with everything within me, that it was Jesus. And, in the dream, I handed a baby to Him … our baby. And Jesus looked into the wrapped up child, and His eyes were riveted to the tiny babe, and He smiled … that wonder-filled smile that we all smile, when we gaze into the face of creation. And then He looked at me, with such love, such compassion, such comfort, and He said “I will take care of your treasure for you, until you return. While you have this treasure, with me, in heaven, your heart will be here too.”
Do you ever feel like you are hanging on by a thread? Or maybe you live with, or know someone else who seems to be just barely surviving … but rather precariously. They are desperate, they are exhausted, they are hopeless.
I having been trying (as a person who struggles with the lack of a gift of patience) to learn to appreciate process, rather than just wish that the struggle were over. This has not been an easy thing for me to learn. And, with every step forward, I slide backwards even farther.
My thinking is that we usually can only appreciate the process of struggle AFTER it is over (oh, hindsight, how I love thee). So, what I am really trying to do, by appreciating the process, is seeking the benefit of hindsight in the midst of the process 😉 … But, I am also hoping that by appreciating the process … the struggle might get over sooner! I do realize that my theory is not only confusing, but it is also very flawed, and very … wrong.
members, maybe homeless … definitely rough and tough (and even a little gruff). So, I kept watching them … when they weren’t looking my way. The bus was filling … fast! Then a woman gets on with a boy who is about four years old. And there is no available seat (and I am too pre-occupied people watching to get off my lazy butt). And one of the rough and tough guys gets up … and looks at the woman … and kindly offers his seat to she and the boy … Be still my heart! Kind, genteel, gentlemen do still exist … even if they look too scary to make eye contact with.
walking along a busy tourist street. The timeshare salespeople are yelling and beckoning and flattering everyone who doesn’t look Mexican. And this one is yelling, obviously to hubby, “hey Meestir”, but MY hubby is a smart one … and he just pretends to not hear him. Then, same guys yells, “hey Meestir, your shoelace is untied” and MY hubby looks down, and then we hear, “I knew you could hear me.” … but, I digress).
contact … with each other. I really do not think they were at all aware that there was anyone else on the planet, let alone on the bus. Now I don’t mean they were clinging to each other, and to look at them was to watch saliva being shared from one to the other. I mean they were simply in the bubble of ‘each other’, simply so delighted just to be … together.
memorable, because something about them drew the attention of almost everyone else on the bus.
There is something about rainbows, about the wonder associated with them. They give hope.
viewers in, ourselves. They looked, they liked, and, by later that night, we had an offer … for the price we wanted 🙂
Now, my beast … she has always been addicted to walking! When she doesn’t go for a walk, she looks depressed, and gives us guilt-laden looks that no human can duplicate! And when she does go for a walk, she is the picture of contentment!
idea just how this could benefit them).
bringing her daughter to school, and I asked how the new ‘special’ air mattress for her child was working. The mom’s reply was that she had just had her first full night’s sleep in YEARS. Now I do not mean one or two years … this ‘child’ was about sixteen years old …
Then there is the mom whose son is mostly non-verbal, and can be violent and aggressive. She spends most waking hours ensuring that she knows where he is, as he is a flight risk. When her son does express affection, adoration and love it is never to or for her, because her son only has eyes for other males.
many special needs children, that wish of yours can be like a curse to them. As they might have a child who will never live independently, or have a job, or learn to drive, or learn to count, or be toilet trained.
