Ack. I bypassed telling you yesterday that some of Tom's flu symptoms marched across the living room to me on Tuesday.
They began then, anyway, but I was so grateful for Tom's haircut being planned for Tuesday, not Wednesday because 1.) We were nearly totally out of groceries so I needed to go with him and 2.) By Wednesday I knew I'd be a sniffling, coughing mess.
I was.
But Tuesday at the supermarket went extremely well, what with all those coupons I used and with our running into old former church friends we'd not seen in 11 years (!), catching up with them in the meat section (I did most of the talking since poor ol' Tom can barely speak without coughing). I told them about our farm, etc., for they'd not heard we moved in 2008--they still pictured us living squeezed between two houses in the burbs.
But I was ever so glad to get back home where, after putting groceries away and heating up lunch, I collapsed on the couch and let the feverishness wash over me. And since then, Tom and I have tried not to speak to each other due to the coughing. We've just kinda grunted and passed the tv remote back and forth. ツ
But thank-goodness, I've had no sore throat! I hate those, don't you?
The other thing for which I'm grateful? That these symptoms attacked us now, not in the beautiful, early stages of Spring. That would have proven most annoying, what with our aching all winter to be outside. Alas.
So I'll return to my books which I read in bed yesterday while sometimes gazing out the sunny window to our sparkling winter lake and try to finish three I've begun:
Spiderweb For Two: A Melendy Maze by Elizabeth Enright
The Riddle of the Red Whale by Edward Fenton
Little Heathens by Mildred Armstrong Kalish
The first two are comfort reads, wonderful young adult novels, and the last one was a surprise gift from my lovely online friend, Dolores. How sweet of her to think of me, especially since I've not been able to order books like I used to.
And a special thanks to the sweet woman at Lord, I Want to Be Whole who became my 100th blog follower. I'd been a tad Adrian Monk-ish about that 99 number being there for ever so long. heh.
Addendum: Uh-oh! One of my followers bailed out, so I'm back to 99 again. Oh well.
And to anyone else who's currently sick, hang in there! I feel your pain. Just remember that very soon we all will be outside basking in the wonder, the gift, that is Springtime.
*****
Wow. March must be one powerful month.
Yesterday morning I felt all this hopefulness for yes! March, the month of Spring, had arrived. Oh, glorious, sunny day.
But then inside all that celebration I heard, "One more year. Stay here one more year."
Or thought I heard it, anyway. I'm so certain about most of my beliefs, but this when-shall-we-move-away? one! Man, my gypsy blood can mimic God's voice on that.
Alas.
But you know? When I surrendered to that WaitOneMoreYear thought, such peace swooped down. I began to yearn, though patiently, for Spring on our farm as a mother physically yearns to hold her baby. What new life our place brings to our tired winter blood! The orchard and woods leafing out, the sun on my back in the garden, our dirt driveway, coffee mornings on the barn patio, digging in my flower beds, my wicker chair and fairy pool in the Bunny Pasture and now a strawberry bed there, too, sunny mornings on the front porch in my robe--
I can do this, I mused. After these next few weeks of cool weather, I'll be fine, so my only worry is how I'll handle next January and February. Yet if I can tweak some things--my attitude for one--well, those months will be ok. Especially, if truly, this is God's idea.
(Though I did tell Tom, "The worst that could happen would be I'd complain all during those two winter months, but you can handle that, right?" He smiled and said, "Hmm. I'm not so sure." heh)
But! Just. One. More. Year. Just one more long Buffalo winter. That's all --please, Lord. :)
When Tom and I talked it over, well, he, too, felt peaceful about the staying. "We'd have more time to get the house ready to sell," he said. "We wouldn't feel rushed." Then I told him, "I know. That thought greatly appealed to my inner laziness, also." We smiled and I also brought up how having Naomi with us at this time feels like a peaceful stabilizer or something. Like a time in our lives we shouldn't mess with by moving away--not just yet. He totally agreed.
Then later that night, amazingly, Naomi came downstairs to talk with us and she, with no previous knowledge of our new thoughts, said she's thinking she may stay here in Buffalo awhile longer. And move out of state next year.
Wow. March really must be powerful!
But of course, not as powerful as the God who knows best and who moves us around with His fingers--at least, being finger-moved is our desire. I'd be so afraid to move out of here even to the most perfect, winter-free place without Him, without His release from this place. May that never, ever happen.
****************
Yesterday was another great shopping trip at the supermarket. With sales and coupons I saved $61. So instead of spending $143 I spent just $82, with quite a few free groceries included due to coupons, mostly from the internet. Go here for my post where I listed my favorite coupon sites. And more organic/healthy sites are linked here. (Connecting with those coupon blogs plus various food companies at Facebook saves me tons of money. I highly recommend doing that.) I'm trying to keep us down to $50 a week for groceries--that includes everything, like laundry detergent, lightbulbs, etc.
We arrived home, put the groceries away, then had a very filling 74 cent meal. That felt good, too. :)
************************
Did you like the PBS show, Frontier House? Well, you may like a series Tom and I are currently watching through Netflix. It's called Out of the Wild: The Alaskan Experiment. Nine 'regular people' were dropped off in the wilds of Alaska to find their way from shelter to shelter and eventually back to civilization. There is no million dollar prize, either--they did it just to see if they could push themselves that far, if they could survive it. Really interesting stuff--Tom and I are nearly finished watching the series and have enjoyed it very much. Although--let me add--the killing of small animals and birds for food is rough for people like us who love animals (oh, the times I've thrown a blanket over my head). Be forewarned.
P.S. Tom and I just now finished watching Out Of The Wild and oh! We both loved the ending. Perfect.
What a sad struggle last week after the passing of Lennon!
Yet by Saturday I felt the 'Lennon the Cat wound' was near a healing, a closing. Life felt hopeful again and I'd not even had any dreams about Lennon at night (I'd asked God to give me a dream so I'd feel better). Also, I'd told Him that Heaven wouldn't be, well, Heaven for me if Lennon wasn't there when I arrived. Wasn't sure if feeling that way was ok, but there you go.
And then came Sunday morning!
I awoke around 4:30, decided to get up, made my hot chocolate, then burrowed into Tom's recliner beneath four heavy, warm blankets and began to watch a Netflix movie.
That's when Tom came cough-cough-coughing into the living room. He's had a flu of some type for days. Sigh. Not helping.
So I tossed a couple blankets to him on the couch and then switched the movie to the A Man Called Pearl film. Immediately I felt inspired to be more creative, to work harder. And I also felt sleepier and sleepier, so I leaned the chair back, turned toward Tom's messy lower bookshelf and drifted away.
Then moments later I slowly, luxuriously awoke, opened my eyes (I thought) and there I saw Lennon staring down at me from the bookshelf with that wise, compassionate look in those golden eyes of his. The look he always gave me while sitting together at the sunny front porch table.
For a slow five seconds I stared at him while thinking, "Doesn't he look contented?" Then I wondered, "How is Lennon sitting on that shelf? It's too crowded with Tom's clutter." And then I realized, "Wait! Lennon can't be there. He's gone."
Then I really awoke, to no Lennon, only the cluttered shelf.
But you know? I smiled with gratitude, for I'd 'seen' Lennon and he'd looked fine, happy, healthy again. And I remembered what someone in the vet's office had written in the sympathy card they mailed to us:
"Remember that your pet is watching over your family now."
Then I turned back toward the tv while thinking, "Now I know Lennon is waiting for me in Heaven. Everything's going to be ok." And it was.
***
Then moments later at the end of A Man Named Pearl?
A young people's choir out in Pearl's lovely garden, began singing the song I often hum to make my worries flee away:
I've got a feelin', that everything's gonna be all right,
Oh, oh, oh, I've got a feelin' that everything's gonna be all right--
Wow. And then I really felt all right! And I thanked God for making Himself so obvious--in His timing, not mine.
For I believe His message was to first seek Him for comfort rather than His signs and confirmations. And then afterward, if something is still needed, let Him be the one to bring it. Let it be His decision, in His way, in His timing.
Life with God at the center? Nothing else compares. Nothing.
******
"Seek first the kingdom of God and (then) all these things shall be added unto you."
"God is the God of all comfort."
Something wonderful comes out of tragedy if it brings us closer, forever, to God, Himself.
******
