surviving...

Ray came through this morning, needed a signature.
Outside there are voices in the street, the day is sunny, cold.
Little work was completed yesterday. Talked at length with a friend on the phone last night. It had been awhile since we last spoke. Slept a good part of yesterday. Why is church so exhausting? And Sunday so lazy? The morning was busy enough, but after church were fried potatoes and a nice omlet fixed for the Dyl. And later, the afternoon was spent in bed, my head feeling the size of a balloon, watery and dull and painful.

And this morning. The old, internal arguments, with God, who else? Myself? Possibly that too. And working and cleaning, two, nearly three bedrooms and closets cleaned and put in order, and remembering an Adrian Rogers (now deceased) sermon about getting alone with God to hear from Him, see what He wants one to do...so in the midst of cleaning, I pulled out a pack of jelly belly jelly beans and then, on my youngest son's bed I sat down, in the sunlight, like a cat and one by one pulled out the beans, alternately tasting and asking and questioning and arguing...and remembering Paula's voice which agreed with my own frustration: "What do you want me to do?" And how can one do something if there is no clear indication?...But perhaps no answer is an answer. And perhaps a person should just do the best they can.

And so, I hobbled down the stairs (the knee and ankle still hurt from the September bicycle accident) carrying videos and things to put in the storage space..and by the end of the day the house was clean (for the most part), the closets were organized, the laundry and dishes were nearly finished and Dylan came into my bedroom, "The house looks great mom"..he had been out with friends, he will be home tonight..


"That which does not kill you makes you stronger."