Day 198 Days of Barreness, Days of Plenty

Dear friends,

With Stephen's permission, here is a photo of "Shrek Foot", or sporting its more recent name, "Frankenfoot". I had to laugh when the nurse yesterday asked me if I was comfortable wrapping his bad foot. After doing pin care on an external fixator, and washing out an open skin graft with saline solution, I'm ok with ace bandaging a stitched appendage. I remember how scared I was when Hercules came home from Sunnyview, a mass of wounds to be dressed every day, twice a day. It took 45 minutes per session to get him fixed up. I was so ill equipped for the job at hand. I cried and prayed on the way out of those hospital doors. And then, by gum, by the grace of God, I became a nurse. They'll never hire me in that capacity at Albany Med, but I can clean and wrap a wound pretty well.

I had kind of a neat experience this morning. Nature helps me understand things better. I believe the Great One set it up that way. The very nature of the created world is full of metaphors and poetry that illuminates truths my limited brain can't sort out in the raw of everyday. But make a story out of it, and I get it... Each morning David goes out the front door, and I watch him through my bedroom window at the corner until I see him get safely on the little yellow school bus. He started this in November, after the accident, since prior to that I worked at Our Savior's and drove him to school in the morning. All through the winter months I kept my eye on him through the bare trees, until he got on board. Through the spring I watched faithfully, as the little buds started to appear on the mature trees between my lot and the corner. Little by little, the lush green began to obstruct my view of the all important treasure. This morning I realized I could only see him faintly when he moved, until the yellow bus pulled up and he stepped on, easy to see, safe and sound.

So a light bulb went on somewhere in this mysterious orb of gray matter. And I thought about those barren days of fall and winter, when there were no leaves on the trees, and there was a stripping, in the world and in my life, allowing in a great deal of light and clearing the way for my eyes to see the truly precious, valuable things. That it happened on the day after Smitty had a 1 hour surgery, instead of 9 hours, only drove the point home more clearly. Sometimes our darkest hours bring clarity we could not have imagined. We don't love the pain, but we value the vision. The trick is to hold on when the leaves start to come back in. To remember the vast wealth we gained in the dark and bring it with us into the light.

I need desperately to do this. Though we have tread a thousand miles from November 8, and I have gained inexpressibly, there are still shadows that could drown me. I need to see the value in the shadows, and believe for the continual growth and healing that will surely come. Writing this blog is part of the process of recalling the mighty works of God, and of the dear people He has designated as fellow travellers: our friends and our families. You. Remembering the insights from the barren days makes us wiser for the trip through the growing season, and eventually the harvest time. There are dangers to the soul in every season of life, and an enemy ready to exploit those dangers. Often the easier times put us off our guard, and cause us to forget what really matters. Sometimes the difficult times tempt us to despair. Rescue me from either such fate, Oh Great One!

Let's just keep walking with Him, and keeping Him in the uppermost place where He belongs.
And when we fail, we have a forgiving Savior, ready to give us a do-over when we repent. Let neither self sufficiency nor self hatred wreck us for the purposes we have along this swift way.

Your friend on the pilgrim road,

Loriann

P.S. Shrek foot or Frankenfoot? What's the more apt name?