After more than three weeks of silence, she speaks! The first post after a long respite always seems to be the most awkward. I have a lot to say, and yet so much I want to keep close to my heart. Pardon me, as I work it all out and return to the happy world of writing/blogging.
Two days after Brinley (now Bailey) went to her new home, I broke my right foot. While I wish there was a fantastical story that accompanied this injury (like when I got bit by a werewolf), there isn’t. I could say I tripped over a gnome, but I wasn’t even outside when it happened. I was walking in a store, heard a loud snap, and that was it. When I’m out I’m accompanied by my mom’s rollator (who I named Tobey), my chariot of fire (transport chair known as Elijah), and Stella/Gloria my non-wheeled original walker that I only use on the stairs and to get in/out of the shower. (Of all the devices, Stella is the most fun. My friend Shari and I decked her out with ribbons.)
Mostly, I’ve just been sitting around hoping and praying for visitors, who sometimes show up, spending time with God (who always shows up), listening to a lot of music, and social networking (the way home bound extroverts feel connected). But I feel like I SHOULD be doing something more. The should’s get me every time. I guess there are things I would rather be doing, like feverishly writing something so powerful and so amazing that it’s truly and wonderfully from God or fleshing out the great ideas that are constantly bouncing around my brain (including my book, which I am worried my never get written, at least I’m not under contact, right?) or diving into book after book.
I want to do more, dream more, be more…and that’s all very exhausting! I can’t keep up with my dreams, and I know my dreams and ideas need to be yielded to God or they’re destined to fail. I mean, plans will always fall apart and some dreams are not meant to be. I’ve learned that so clearly, and the pain is still fresh.
As I sit here, struggling to pull my thoughts together, I realize that this is a good moment. Maddy the Shih Tzu is warming my lap, the afternoon sun is casting an ambient glow across the room, and I am doing what I love–writing. In this moment, I find serenity and purpose. God is in this moment, just like He as in the last and just like He will be in the next moment of my life.
There is something about aloneness that inspires lessons in moment by moment living. Maybe it’s because moments seem longer, less fleeting, and full of emotion. In busyness, moments slip by unnoticed. I believe, despite it all, I am learning to live a contented life–one of joy and, yes, of happiness. Sometimes that just takes a while to learn.