If the thunder don't get you, then the lighting will

Tomorrow is the second anniversary of my first hospitalization and since anniversaries are significant, I haven't been able to think of little else this weekend.  I have been grieving my old like, my pre-disability life horribly;  I miss bending over to get something out of the cabinets, walking in a straight line, etc.  Lately, when I think about those early days, I am gripped with horror.

Before CIDP,  I lived my life swinging from pollyanna to panic. I spent half of my life telling myself that I would be lucky and escape the tumult and turmoil others had.  When I wasn't telling myself that, I was paranoid, crippled with fear that the opposite would turn be true.

Excessively Moderate

This is Natasha when she was probably 6.
 I have waited  months to get this picture out of storage.

"Moderation in all things, including moderation."
            Petronius

Didn't see this one coming...

We joined a great, Methodist church yesterday.  We have been going for quite a while and regularly attend the Wednesday night suppers.  I am also going to check out a couple of Bible studies.  I am really looking forward to that.  I just need to find my Bible...

Once again, I had a crying fit during the service.  We sang "Come Ye Sinners Poor and Needy," a favorite of Natasha.  I remembered the sound her singing the chorus, "I will arise and go to Jesus, He will embrace me in His arms. In the arms of my dear Saviour, O, There are ten thousand charms."  She would repeat the last line, slowing it down, weighting each with with it's unique presentation, her voice always going upward on "ten thousand charms."  She sang it all the time when she was a child, at bedtime, on car trips, and she sang it to Mercedes.

"Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me."  Mark 9:37

21 Days

Three weeks ago today, I lost my angel.  And even beyond her death, everything else is a crisis.  If life is  journey, then mine has veered so far off into a deep, uncharted and boundless wilderness that I will never find it again. 


One of the things that sustained  me when I was in the hospital last year was The Third Step Prayer.  I told myself that even if I had doubts, as long as I sought God and to do His will, I would be alright.  Not cured, not given vast wealth or any of the other things I was tempted to beg for, all I wanted was to do His will, then I would be alright.

I am not there yet, but the reminder that that place exists is helpful.