Paths

Wednesday, November 16, 2022.  Just hours after I wrote my post yesterday, I got a call moving my appointment up to just two weeks away.  God at work in my life again.  It got me thinking of how I got to this point.  I read that with this infection the sooner it’s discovered and treated, the better your chances of limiting lung damage. Mine was discovered through a CT scan of my heart.  The scan was done because an EKG showed that my heartbeat was low-voltage.  My heart was being checked to see if it was the cause of my fatigue.  My heart was perfectly healthy, but they saw the tiny spot on my lung which grew rapidly and brought me to where I am now.  So through a roundabout path God got me early treatment.  And then there’s the path that led us to where we live now which couldn’t be better for us at this point in our lives.  Before we moved to the Outer Banks, I would have never dreamed I’d be living in central North Carolina.  But living at the beach means you vacation somewhere else which is how we discovered this area.  We always thought we wanted a big piece of land and actually bought a lot to build on.  Then we decided we wanted to be mortgage-free so we bought a townhouse and sold the lot.  But after living in the townhouse, we decided we didn’t like sharing walls but we did like the perks of having our outdoor space maintained by a community association.  That led us here.  An individual home with a beautiful park, trees everywhere, and sidewalks for walkability.  There is no way I could have managed getting outdoors as much as I do anywhere other than a neighborhood like this with its level sidewalks that I can use my rollator on.  There is a line from an old Patty Loveless song “I thought I walked a twisted trail till I saw where it led me to, like a moonbeam across the water, I came straight to you”.  Looking back through the years, I can see how God led me here, but the paths in my life would seem twisted if I viewed them without the eyes of my faith.  “In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths.” (Proverbs 3:6 NKJV)  Yes.  He will.  God is the moonbeam across the water, and He will lead you to your best life if you let Him.  Amen.

My Guiding Light

Tuesday, November 15, 2022.  I have a MAC lung infection.  I just read more about it, and I wish I hadn’t.  I was diagnosed in the weeks after the bronchoscopy I had on October 7th, but I couldn’t get an appointment with a pulmonologist who deals with these things till February.  They’re trying to get me in sooner, but part of what’s happening now is they’re trying to find which antibiotics will treat this.  Apparently, there are many strains and it’s quite a long process to nail down which antibiotics will work.  Once they do, I will probably be on two or three antibiotics for up to a year.  The side effects from them can be pretty awful, and I’ll need continual testing to know when the infection is gone.  In the meantime, the infection itself can possibly cause significant lung damage.  Those are among the things I wish I hadn’t read.  How am I going to get through this?  I was getting scared and upset when a line from a prayer I say every day to my guardian angel popped into my head.  “Protect me from every influence of Satan that I may not fall into sin.”  (Of course, it didn’t just pop into my head.  God was comforting me.)  I don’t think worry is a sin, but I do think that it’s Satan’s influence that can steal our joy.  And I’m not going to let that happen.  I don’t know anything for sure yet, and worrying isn’t going to help at all.  Jesus says, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:34 NIV).  So I’m going to do my best to take each day as it comes and enjoy this time before the treatment starts.  And who knows? Maybe the treatment won’t be that bad.  But even if it is, I’m going to draw my strength and my hope from Jesus.  “…Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning.” (Psalms 30:5 NKJV)  Praying, talking with Jesus, and drawing comfort from my Bible are the things that will get me through anything.  I might temporarily stumble because I’m human, but I’ll always find my way back with Him as my guiding light.

Grief

Sunday, November 6, 2022.  We’ve all heard that grief comes in waves.  It washes over you, overwhelms you, and then backs off until the next surge.  Eventually, the waves don’t crash over you quite as hard, but like the ocean, grief is always there waiting to drench you again.  What I’ve been thinking about lately is how you move on.  When we lived at the ocean, we used to walk out to see it all the time.  We’d sit and watch, entranced by it.  And it was always a struggle to decide when to walk away.  There was always one more wave that we wanted to wait for.  Obviously, we had to walk away at some point, but we always knew we could come back because the ocean is always there.  Grief is like that.  It’s always there, and it’s so hard to make the decision to walk away from it.  You feel like you’re leaving you’re loved one behind somehow.  But unlike the ocean, you can carry them with you.  The hard part is separating them from the grief; realizing that both can exist but they don’t need to be forever tied together.  I’m certainly no expert, and I know each person grieves in their own way.  But when I was praying about how to move forward after losing Jeff’s mom, God put this image on my heart.  We lost my mom seven years ago yesterday, so I think this week in November will always be a difficult one for us in the years ahead.  I was able to think of my mom without it tearing me apart at some point, and I know we’ll get there with Jeff’s mom, too.  My moms didn’t have the opportunity to know each other too well here on earth, but I’m hoping they’re having a grand time up in heaven.  I know I’ll see them again someday.  In the meantime, I’ll carry them both in my heart as I slowly walk away from those waves.  

Mom

Wednesday, November 2, 2022.  A light in the world went out last night.  Jeff’s mom died, and I’m heartbroken.  We all are.  She asked me to call her Mom when we got married twenty-two years ago, and she’s truly been a mom to me in every sense of the word.  Her death was unexpected.  She had a severe ulcerative colitis attack which then turned into sepsis.  She went into the hospital in the early hours of Friday morning and quickly deteriorated.  She had just called me the day before just to chat.  She hadn’t been feeling well but was doing better that day.  I had no idea it would be my last conversation with her, but I’m so glad I got to tell her I loved her.  She was the heart of the family.  People were everything to her.  When I met Jeff and brought my two kids into the family, she welcomed them as her own grandchildren.  She never made them feel like there was a “step” between them.  She was a gifted pianist and studied at Juilliard.  It was because of her that I found my love of classical music.  We also shared a love of books, jigsaw puzzles, and crafting.  She was always making things to give us.  She excelled at knitting, sewing, cross-stitching… We all have evidence of her love sprinkled throughout our homes.  She was a great cook and baker.  Her pies were legendary; the highlight of Thanksgiving dinner.  And she was always, always there for you offering her support and her friendship.  We’d talk for hours on end when she visited and drink endless cups of tea.  She made the effort to connect so you always knew how much she cared.  I just can’t imagine the world without her in it.  She will be sorely missed.  I love you, Mom.  Rest in peace.