Sunday, March 01, 2009

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.


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



Tracy said...

Debra, it sounds like you needed a good long rest. Enjoy this resting period! The house stuff will still be there when you feel up to it. :)

Judy said...

I hear you.


Be still.


oma aka meme said...

we need to get you a pushy chair--LOL
and we would go skating and falling together-
I am glad that you are at rest and I know that sometimes resting is hard work-
now meme must also go rest-
hugs from Meme in Canada where ice we are silly enough to make ice for all the hockey kids--

Dapoppins said...


Oh sweetie.

Auntie sezzzzzz... said...

OK, I'll make you a deal here ,-) Will you guarantee me that you'll remember this post, come spring time?????

Come time when you'll get itching to move your whole vegetable garden wayyyyyy back. Digging up land and starting from scratch, back there?

And come the time when you again want to plan, lay out, and etc., that dreamy {but expansive} secret garden?


Please don't look on it, as having to nod your head and sadly admit, that 22 was long ago for you. Cycles. All moves in cycles. All of nature does, so why not us?

What we did in our 20's was great. And what we did in our 30's too. And in most of our 40's, as well. But my Dear, take it from one who knows... Our body does change, around the 50 mark. :-)

And no amount of positive thinking, or denying it, will work long.

Around 50, our body says; "And now, we will do this, this and this." "But we won't try for that, that and that, anymore... please and thank you." And we're wise to listen to our body. :-)))

It's not over! Just because we can't paint, re-do, garden, generally run around, like we could before... It's not over! It's just that our program needs some shifting. :-)

And if we listen to our body, it will guide us.

And also take it from one who knows, we can be totally surprised at what we CAN embark on... down the road. ,-) Checking off things on our "Bucket List," doesn't have to stop, at 50!


Aunt Amelia
"We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be."
~Jane Austen

Anonymous said...

I don't know you...was just blogtrolling around and came across your site. I just wanted to offer my deepest condolences on your losses. I too lost my dad and while it's been almost six years, it feels like yesterday. I hope that your friends and family (and total strangers like me) can bring you comfort in this time of grieving.


Donetta said...

Debra that stress does take major effect.
Walking wounded is a type of door opening a promise of healing. It is in process and yes a healing done even though it is still being worked through.
I know he is and has finished his work ultimately.
For many it is just beginning and it is to me a charge, to openly expose the weakness of my flesh to expose the strength of HIS spirit.
Hard times can certainly take our fuel and leave us a bit in need of recharging.
That's way he calls it a working out of...
We are all in process.
So cool how it is never left undone and/or unfinished within us.

Do you see me as never healing, only bleeding until I can bleed no more---then imagining myself healed. Am I that person you speak of being surrounded by?

Truly then a poor example of what he really has done in me and through me. Stings a bit.

He is showing me a wonderful informative web site about cognitive reconstruction of thought bias and thought faltering. So step by step this healing journey continues even in the grief of this horrific suicide.

yep stings a bit

but I know that I am a bit tender and so most likely I am mis interpreting you and making this about me

Debra said...

Thanks, Everyone... so much to comment upon, but I'll save it for later posts.

Though Donetta--Oh dear, no! Not once was I thinking of you when I mentioned the walking wounded. Instead, I was picturing whole nameless, faceless crowds of people inside my head when I wrote that. Honest. Honest. Honest. And did I mention honest? :)

Blessings, Debra

Donetta said...

Sorry Debra...
I just got back from a quick trip to the prayer meeting before bible study.
Got a good dose of fight!
A powerful tenacious woman held me accountable. She helped me get my focus back.
Dang to easy did I get off course.
get myself straight to focus on praise and set my suit of armor on. Must of set it down along the road. Of course you know who took full advantage of that.!
please forgive me my stumble.