Either You Trust Him Or You Don't: Still Finding The New Normal
The weeping seems to be under control for the moment, but I can feel it lurking just under the surface, ready to smack me around if I don't keep vigilant. Actually, I have not wept since last Sunday, and that was because of communion. Communion makes me weep in gratitude for the sacrifice He made for me, so I can't blame loneliness for that.
Also, my mom has come to visit me, and I have to behave. Although she does not generally venture into the office where I spend hours at a time, ostensibly working but in reality mostly fighting for control of my emotions and my tear ducts. She happily sits on the sofa for hours at a time, reading library books and learning to play Words with me and two of my cousins. And she likes it when I declare a snack break, because she doesn't eat enough to keep a bird alive in my opinion. So I declare snack times and make guacamole because I know she'll eat it, or cheese and crackers with interesting-sounding varieties I want to try or think she might enjoy.
We have an arrangement - I cook and she does the dishes. Except for the pots, because they are too heavy for her, and my knives. I don't let anyone mess with my knives. She is getting a good knife for her birthday, in defense of my fingers when I want to chop something at her house. My nephew knows how to sharpen things with a steel, so he'd better keep it sharp for her or we will have a discussion. (I cheat and use one of those countertop thingies).
After my mom leaves, my sister is coming three days later. I will drive two hours or so to pick her up at our aunt's house, and she will spend four more days with me before I drive her back to our aunt's and she takes a bus fourteen hours back to our brother's. Sounds crazy, but if she left from here it would take 22 or 23 hours on the bus, with a four hour layover in two big cities. Much safer for everyone and easier on my mind if I go a bit out of the way to get her on a shorter route.
My cousin sent me a text that the airlines had altered her planned trip to such an extent that she will be coming a day later. I'm quite glad she didn't want to come in after 9pm, or go the scenic route.I don't fancy being out alone that late on a Friday night in a big city international airport, and for a three hour flight it's ridiculous to go north and east in order to go west. So we'll make the best of the time we have, even though I consider that the airlines have STOLEN an entire day from us! We'll have fun, regardless.
Other than all the visiting going on, it's pretty quiet around here. I've sent in an application to the Standard Schnauzer Club of America, to see about a rescue dog. I can't justify the rather large expense a puppy entails, and I'm not altogether sure I want to train a puppy. The cats are starting to settle down a bit as they approach their first birthday, although they still make me smile or laugh every day at something they do.
It's also very hot. I look at the temperatures in different parts of the country, and compare the weather there to the weather here. It's just hot. Not Phoenix hot, but subtropic hot. With humidity. I can't stand the way I smell when I get home from my walks in the morning, and just barely tolerate myself until I quit sweating and can go take a shower. How these people at church can drink hot coffee is amazing to me. I'm guzzling cold water and we're cranking out pot after pot of coffee on Sunday mornings. Just one of those mysteries, I guess.
I got some more stuff out of the spare bedroom - some of it is riding around in my back seat, waiting to go to my pastor friends. It was supposed to be dropped off to them when I picked up my sister-in-law last week, but she didn't come. Saved me a ten-hour round trip, so I ain't even mad. And I gave some games to my mom, although she had better remember that the backgammon set is loaned, not given. So slowly, I am making progress.
I'm not working very hard, though. I am slacking off on the follow-up calls I should be making, uncertain of the line beween diligence and pestering. I wish I had my husband's experience and wisdom to help me here, but I don't. I don't want to annoy people, but surely it's not hard to sign a form that's filled out, stick it in a stamped addressed envelope and drop in in a mail box? And if you call someone asking for something, isn't it reasonable for that person (me) to expect you to follow through when they give you the information you asked for (especially when you say you will)?
That sounds an awful lot as if I am complaining, and if I'm not, I'm getting pretty darn close. So I will repent, and stop it. I'll consider it to be an opportunity to get the office in more order, and to put my personality in here. I'll take the time to shred the basket of taxes from eight years ago, plus the other receipts I dumped in there from the filing cabinet I donated.
I'll also think about Elisha, and how he asked God to show his servant the provision He had already made for him when the armies were camped around Dothan. I'll start looking for those fiery horses ready to defeat the enemies around me, which include fear and doubt. Since I know that He is well able to overcome anything, I will trust Him with everything that I have and that I am. So when the tears threaten, I will remember the hope I have with Him and in Him; that I will someday be with my beloved again, and none of this will matter any more. Until then, I will continue to ask for wisdom and do my best to make both my love and He who calls me beloved proud of me.
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