The T-shirts are definitely gone. I’ve now unpacked every last box, except that one that got shoved straight into the bottom of the closet. I know they’re not in there. I remain mystified, but the sting has lessened.
I’m also mystified at how all this stuff squeezed into that tiny apartment. Once I began opening boxes, it all started expanding like canned insulation. But I’ve got all my books and small treasures out and my familiar things on the walls--the spaces are comforting once again. There’s sunshine in every room at some point in the day--I can’t tell you how happy this continues to make me.
Fun fact: you can listen to Psalm 1 through Psalm 74 in the time it takes to drive from Gladstone to Columbia, Missouri, plus one bathroom break and one stop to peer under the truck to try to find the unnerving thumping noise. Dad had a heart procedure this last week and I drove over to be there and drive him home after and hang out a few days. Long story short, I came back home that night, listening and praying hard in the dark while the banging carried on.
The moon was right in front of me the whole time, sharing glory with Jupiter and Venus. Hope you had a chance to view that bit of wonder this month--they were all three so clear and bright! I just kept driving toward them and knew I’d get home sooner or later. And of course I did. But between my general state of mind anyway and the banging, I was pretty frazzled by the time Psalm 74 rolled around the second time.
I wish I could report that Dad’s procedure had the intended effect, but it did not and nor did the second attempt yesterday succeed in anything but complications. So while the doc firmly doesn’t expect him to keel over, regrouping is required, and Dad’s tired of getting exhausted just trying to make his breakfast.
The noise in the truck turned out to be rocks that had jumped up between the gas tank and the tank shield. All things considered, this is weird, but great. I’m hoping life will level off now and maybe get a little boring, so I can regain some margin--do things that fill my tank instead of just bang against it. I ordered a couple more fat poetry volumes for my personal collection, and started a good word study. Soon it will be warm enough to walk outside regularly and I’m happy to be back in the old ‘hood.
Otherwise, always moving toward the promise. I pray that you are as well.
Lana
#342
It’s just a bright spot in the
great darkness
That you need to get to
But there’s no road map
And only the vaguest
sign posts
And frequently
no visible road
It’s such a long way off
You’re not sure you’ll ever
get there
Or why you are even
trying this
But you have to get there
Because stopping would be
even worse
And sometimes life’s like that--
like driving to Jupiter.
2-23-23
#321
Breathe
Go still
breathe
Shut it out
breathe
Look for your center
breathe
Acknowledge reality
breathe
Reject untruth
breathe
Wait another moment
breathe
Dismiss fear
breathe
Rebuke rage
breathe
Reset
breathe
Gather courage
breathe
Locate the glimmer toward which you march
breathe
Take the first next step
breathe
Repeat as necessary
breathe
And don’t forget to
breathe
1-23-23
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It is so possible to gather a lot of things in a small space. We have a built in ingenuity to pull it off for the better or worse . Our body is still a mystery to doctors. Keeping you and your father in prayer. May God continue to carry you through.
Glad the banging noise was simple.... single woman problems! Sounds like you are in a house now - sunshine pouring in is a blessing! Hope your dad will be ok. Julie G