Rolling to one side, I keep rolling so I hold onto the pillow.
Sitting up, I keep my eyes closed. This seems to help.
Yawning, lifting my arms, forcing fists, checking for equal strength on both sides of myself, standing slowly
Waiting for a sense of steadiness before taking my first step.
Day 11 after black ice. My head seems clear, pain at my temples and behind my eyes tolerable. I make my way down the hall,
Out for the wall. Soon the tea kettle Will be boiling water and I’ll smell the coffee as I feed the cat.
The house is still, quiet except for the tiny sound of my hum– “This is the day that the Lord has made.” I’ve noticed I wake up with a song in my head. I’ll hum it for a while, short stanzas, and eventually give it words and sing. Sometimes, T sings it too. I don’t think he’s aware of this.
The sky turn from night to day, I notice joggers with flashlights on their heads, and hear the first sounds of birds. Soon there will be a thud on the porch, the paper
Landing outside the door. I’ll see his car but he won’t see me wave, or she. Kevin and his wife take turns
Delivering. I think they have several routes.
Do my thoughts count as prayers as I notice the gift of life in me, around me –
These moments? Prayer becomes a task if I try to set a standard for myself, instead of just
God‘s presence with me, sharing
In my thoughts. I am aware that I am free to choose them. It’s easy to allow my
Thinking to slip into hurts, and frustrations rather than
on God’s help, which is always there if I take the time to look and listen. It’s a discipline. I am
Working on it, this resting. Just being. Clearing, cleansing, restoring,
This all comes in time. I think God goes to great lengths to keep us still long enough to see and hear, to listen, to be cleansed, restored, renewed.
I write these thoughts because I never understood what it meant to Rest in God and because I’m
Trying to learn. Being alone with God, to me, is nothing short of
Satisfying, most of the time.
It’s a miracle. To me, to experience this contentment is to realize hope. And to have hope is to be at peace. And don’t we need more of that?
But this is just my experience this 17th day of March, grateful to be vertical. What’s yours?
Being vertical is no small thing, especially considering…
And yes, a miracle – thank You, Lord!!!
I love you,
Relishing the smallest of things, then mile markers like being vertical. a fist clench YES!
I have a sister with major head trauma from 3 incidents in 4 months. 1) slipped on ice 2)bad auto accident 3) a tree top broke off and hit her on the head in their yard on a windy day (what are the odds?). She has lost all ability to work or even keep track of words.
Yes, vertical is good!
I’m so sorry to hear that, Gary. Thank you for filling me in. I will be praying for a full recovery for her. (Do you mind sharing her name?) Rest. And more rest.
Deb, thank you, I shared this with a friend this morning, I think something we are also learning. I like your statement “I think God goes to great lengths to keep us still long enough to see and hear, to listen, to be cleansed, restored, renewed.” Resting and listening are so restorative emotionally and physically.. Sensing God’s presence, sharing our thoughts… That’s my aim, not that I always get it right 😅❤️
I’m right there with you, Morag. But it’s that we try. That is what’s important. And that we’re always learning! ☺️