This is our side yard and can't you just see me ice-skating out there? Inside my head I'm sailing gracefully along the curvatures of our frozen lakes, leaning in, then out, in, then out, my hair floating on a breeze, my white dress reflecting late afternoon sun.

But in reality? It would be more like swish, swish, trip, stumble, splat, rip my jeans. Swish, swish, trip, stumble, splat, rip my jeans.  ツ

My head finds it so hard to admit my body will turn half a century in less than two weeks. My head still believes I'm only 22.

And yet since we moved to this farm? My head sometimes sadly nods that, yes, 22 was long ago, far away and it is gone. Forever. At least for this body and at least for parts of my brain.

I forgot to tell you (or perhaps I've hesitated) that two months ago God put me on medical leave. No, really, He did. He said I needed a long rest because of all I've gone through since August of 2007, the short list being:

We put our house of 14 years up for sale.

My dad passed away.

We flew out to CA for my dad's memorial service (and I hate flying).

We sold our house.

Two months later (in the dead of winter) we moved into a tiny apartment.

Two months after that we decided to buy this farm.

Two months later we moved again and started a whole new life here which involved choices and changes we'd never dreamed of.

Again, that's the short list. And then recently there was the plane crash just miles from us and a few days later, my dear old friend of 30 years passed away.

I'm so glad that God knows the future and that I don't.

But back to my head. My head has been feeling its advanced years more than I care to confess since 2007. In my early married years we moved often and I could set up a whole house, repaint its walls and get it running smoothly with hardly an extra breath. But in this house? It's been a struggle for me to complete anything or to find places to put things or to finish hanging my paintings. There's still, nearly 9 months later, so much unfinished-ness.

I don't dare mention what stress has done to my memory.

And partly all that is the reason for this God-imposed medical leave. Man, instead of painting, papering, fixing and creating, He's made me rest, read, watch tv, pray and heal. There's been lots of healing and I've needed every golden drop.

I realize, of course, not everyone is able to take two months off and I also know that many are the people who have become like The Walking Wounded, never healing, only bleeding until they can bleed no more--then imagining themselves healed. We are surrounded by those.

But here is something else I know: whenever God is after us to take some down time, always He will provide a way to do that. He will slice open new paths and custom-make healing time for those He's certain need it. He has never delighted in His children walking through Life as Bleeding, Walking Wounded. 

No, He delights in providing help to anyone who is willing to let the wind whisk away their own agenda and instead, grab His arm the second He extends the invitation to health and healing His way, in His perfect timing. 

To wait for a better, more logical time is a huge mistake. There can be no better timing than His.

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"He makes a way where there is no way..."

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