Eight Years

This past weekend was the 8th  anniversary of the day I heard God’s still small voice telling me that he was going to heal me.   The day after, the day I had confirmation and felt for sure, God was working in my life.

I should have been celebrating,  but that Incredible anniversary walks hand in hand with our son’s birthday.   It was always the day before Graham’s birthday.   However, now that Graham is gone, these two days seem to bring memories of the best, most exciting thing to happen in my life and, arguably, the worst, although the loss of our granddaughter ranks up there pretty high.

But God…both of these dates were eclipsed by a roadblock that sent me on a different route.  I had been so excited that I had finally set an appointment to share my story of healing with some special ladies in Rhode Island.

But God… I’ll tell you that phrase has become my theme song.  A dear one at our church even made me a necklace because I held onto that truth through some challenging parenting days in our life almost two years ago.  I penned a ‘meme’ of my own back then.

But God…
He knows.  He cares.   He comforts. He’s in control.  And I’m safely tucked under his wings.  Regardless.

And once again.  But God…
I was planning on going to RI.  Had it all planned.  And yet.  As much as I thought this was God’s will, that he had worked out all the details to be just right.  Even the weather looked like it was going to co-operate. The ladies I was going to speak to are studying Joseph’s suffering.  So, I thought, how cool is this?  That God has it planned just so my story of pain was coming at the very time these ladies are studying Joseph.

Anyway.  But God…maybe as Joseph says to his brothers,  You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.  Just maybe Satan, our adversary, sabotaged my trip But I will trust that my great God who has worked out so many things in my life for my good and His Glory will work this out for good also.

You see.  A week ago today, I had ‘urgent’ surgery.  I wasn’t whisked right into surgery, but the surgeon did schedule it two days later. I’m anxious to get back on my feet and feeling good.  I even went on two little walks.  Then I ended up back in the ER. I’m ok for now.

I desire to be the one who jumps up within a few days of surgery, feeling fine.  Be the tough, strong one who bounced back quickly, not to have a complication and a longer recovery.  And feel bad enough that I don’t even want to think about what is next.

I do feel the turning.  That turn from being ok with having limited sitting and standing time, enjoying laying around.   I have the urge mentally to get on with things, to write, to start cutting out that sewing project I’ve been planning!

And I will feel better.  I will handle this short roadblock and watch for when God uses it for His Glory. After all, I know what it’s like to have been touched miraculously by the hand of God.

But, for now.  I think it’s nap time.