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Posts Tagged ‘tea’

For four days I have left you. Four days for a more noble cause than usual. I have been writing. Back to the drawing board with my novel, a fresh Word document before me. I keep from the first, failed, half-finished draft only that which makes the story soar. My novel and my soul are better for it. For four days I have written, indulged in the Psalms as a refuge from the swirling words of the Lure of Lemons, been rigorous about taking all medicines (new and old, prescription and supplemental), and tackled my wild life into submission.

Patient friends who sought me out through mid-November to mid-January are finally getting a little more of the attention they deserve. Precious family members are finally the confidants they ought to have always been. Life, slowly, is beginning to make sense. As if I am coming out of the fog of illness that was my life.

But my room already begins to show signs of sickness again. An unkempt desk, a chair that houses lost objects, and a dryer sheet too far down on the floor to bear picking up. This time, it’s not the bitter surges of Babesiosis that strikes me. Just a common cold. The kind that makes you drink too much tea and turns your nose raw. It’s quite the relief to feel normal sick. My head might seem a little fuzzy, but its the physical kind of fuzzy that is not nearly so alarming.

Sister Kate and I pulled into the mall parking lot today and just sat for a long time. She shared Jeremiah 29:11, a verse we all have heard too much (if that’s even possible when it comes to Scripture). But instead of focusing on the ‘prosper’ part, she highlighted, “For I know the plans I have for you…” (ESV). God knows the plan. It’s in His mighty, wondrous, talented hands. So sick with Babesious or sick with the common cold or starkly healthy, I’m in the book that He is writing.

And it is far better than any story I could ever craft.

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1528476_10202258398838086_581389364_nSpending Christmas Eve Eve with my nephews was thoroughly worth the cold they could not help but share. That said, it made for a strange Christmas. A holiday of slowness. Of television marathons with a grand total of hours that would have been simply shameful under other circumstances. Of sharing tissue boxes and drinking tea and resting in piles on the couch. And then… Christmas was over.

Church came around and post-chaos/sickness cleaning began. We continued to find time to rest on the couch, but soon we did so alone–without my New York Sister or Sister Kate or her husband. There was still fun to be had. In cleaning out closets, we could not help but try on old ball gowns, reliving memories of each occasion. We snatched moments alone to dream and reset. We even eked enough life from ourselves to drag ourselves to the movie theater, catching the Walter Mitty remake. And now as the real world officially begins again, I am grateful for a little more oxygen in my lungs, for good, good memories, and for the new church family that has made me feel so at home.

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