Heigh ho, heigh ho, it’s off to get a hip replacement I go.*
The first half of my summer has been completely amazing. Tons of time with the littles, lots of chances to go pickin’ with Greg – treasure hunting of the most magnificent kind. (We have this hobby where we have a booth in a vintage store and we go find stuff to put in it.)
As of this coming Tuesday, I have used up all the amazing this summer has to offer me.
This surgery has been scheduled for months, and I keep telling Greg I don’t think I really need it so maybe I’ll just skip it for awhile. In return he keeps giving me a look that is a smile of indulgence because I’m talking utter foolishness. Which I am.
I’ve been in a general malaise while I’ve waited, to be sure, but that’s not the same feeling as being RIGHT ON TOP OF IT. When I woke up this morning I actually felt panic. Heart pounding, stomach flutters, sweating, the whole ball of wax.
Because only two more nights to sleep well. Two more days to hang out in my basement in my recliner with my hubby. One more chance to go pickin’ with him. No more “going out for coffee,” going swimming with the kiddos, no more running my household well. (Greg is an excellent household runner, so it is in good hands.)
And the obvious, two more days to move freely. Two more days until I’m in a ton-load of pain. Two days until I can’t take a shower for s.i.x.t.e.e.n doggone days.
Of course, it’s not “only two more days” for the ever and ever, it’s until about three months are over. But you would surely agree that there are going to be ZERO THINGS fun about this.
There’s something else, though.
The “general malaise” and panic I mentioned?
There’s more to it.
My heart is broken for my country. As much as I try my mind can’t wrap around what’s happening here. I mean, I understand the facts just fine. But my soul cries out that there must be a better way than this. And for our brothers and sisters around the world, battered and baffled. I don’t have any answers, I just have grief and confusion, but I think almost all of us might feel a little bit that way?
What makes it harder is that we talk a lot about the facts and the opinions of all the terrible things, but not so much about how it all makes you feel. How you feel about the whole forest, not just the trees. Could we not, just for a little bit, debate or even discuss, but instead just acknowledge and share our fear and sadness and perhaps anxiety and dread? Our heartbrokenness?
The forest is on fire. Let’s help it to heal.
Praying for us all,
Angie
P.S. I probably won’t be around here for awhile, seeing as how I’ll be having pain and physical therapy and such. But if I do drop in, I can’t be held responsible for any posts made while I’m on pain medicine. It makes me weird.
*Yes it’s terrible. I cannot poet.
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