Update 2/3/10 Day 87

Dear friends,

There's an old Joni Mitchell song, I think it's called "River", and in it she sings in her inimitable way:

"I wish I had a river so long, I would teach my feet to fly,
I wish I had a river, I could skate away on..."

When I saw the breathtaking Hudson River today, I felt that way. Not melancholy, though, like Joni sings it, but musing, with my imagination in full gear. I wanted to lace up my skates and glide down the river, with the pinks and golds of the sun drenching the frozen, snow covered water to its banks. Of course in real life I would have drowned as the half thawed river sucked me up with its current, but that's the wonder of dreaming. You can go anywhere and there's no danger. How lovely of the Great One to leave this mysterious place of imagining in our amazing "hard drives." Knowing the perils a fallen world would inevitably bring, He wired us to go places in our minds we might not ever get to in our bodies. But I go on and on. Someone out there is saying, "here she goes again..." I love the fact that you put up with my ramblings! You're lucky! Imagine living with me...

That brings me to Stephen. He had therapy today, and his range of motion in that shoulder is broadening little by little. His right knee is still very tight, but again, he is limited in what he can do til our favorite "Bob the Builder" says "go for it" with weight bearing on the right side. Walking will help pump some of that fluid out of his legs too. It's remarkable how much of human health and "normalcy" is tied up in being an upright biped. We're made to walk. Incredibly, the spirit of man has even overcome this natural way, with many dear folks permanently in wheelchairs. But the ideal is putting one foot in front of the other. I have never had more respect for paraplegic people in my life. Or for the man who lives with me, and by the grace of God will once again defy gravity and get up on two feet. I'm longing for that day. That will be a Lindt truffle day, for sure.

Speaking of "Bob", we see Dr. Bagchi tomorrow at 9am. (His first name, by the way, is Kaushik). He'll take a look at the xrays, and I hope like crazy he'll give us some idea of when the big day will arrive. It's been pretty consistently expected at the end of February. But who knows, maybe Steve's bones are super healers. Or the Great One will say "done!" Or maybe, we'll have to wait, and find out what wonders there are in the longest, shortest month of all (February). I feel like a kid in July, who knows Christmas is in December, and wonders if it's a hundred years away. As an adult I rarely feel this way. To quote Joni Mitchell again, I'm usually "dragging my feet just to slow the circle down..." My friends, I know how hard it is to wait! Some of us have been waiting for many years for our prayers to be answered. I don't understand it all. I only know that good comes from waiting. Solid, sturdy faith can't be obtained from a drive through. As sister Laurie said early on "If this mountain won't be moved, we're going over it". It's time consuming. It's stretching. It makes for people with a little gumption. The Great One, He sure puts a premium on endurance. He's the prime example of it Himself.

David asked me this evening to tell him my favorite Psalm. Well, that's kind of like choosing the most beautiful flower in an English country garden, or the best Agatha Christie mystery or the funniest P.G. Wodehouse story. But put to it, I'd have to say Psalm 139. Especially near the end:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting.

In all the anxiety and confusion of the last 87 days, I know the Great One has seen all the good, the bad and the ugly within me. And He has mercifully continued to lead me in the way everlasting. I stumble on the pilgrim road, but He has perfectly sturdy feet from walking this very road in human flesh just like mine. And He knows the way! He's also sent some incredible hikers to tread the ground with me. That would be you. What a wonder.

Still reeling from Dan Lane's account of the crash, and from the headlong grace that barreled down that road at the same moment our car made contact with 6600 pounds of speeding metal. Remember, the combined speed was 120 miles per hour. So many incredible people get the thanks, but only One gets the glory. He was in that car with Dan Lane, and the firemen and paramedics, and especially Sweet Hannah and my Hercules. I'll never recover from the mercy.

Thank you all for your comments, emails and phone calls. They make my day. Your prayers continue to carry me, like a skater on the Hudson, gliding away, even though it's all upstream.

Your friend on the pilgrim road,

Loriann