Sweetness

       I had the worst headache a couple days ago.  It was probably once again related to the tension in my neck and also to my medication dosage.  It was a yucky day, or, as that children's book says, a "Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"!  I had promised my dear husband the night before that I would clean the kitchen and do laundry since it was my day off, but when I finally rolled myself awake at 11 a.m. I felt like I was run over by a bus and nowhere near capable of doing anything productive.  I lazed about, drinking my coffee, watching television, reading my Agatha Christie book... I thought about just going back to sleep for the afternoon.
       My phone rang at about 3 in the afternoon.  Mom wanted to know if she could come over to see me and visit the kittens.  I said a hesitant yes and told her my head was killing me and I hadn't done a thing all day and I still desperately needed to clean the kitchen because almost every single dish we own was dirty.  Her response was, "Oh!  Let me come clean your kitchen!!"  (I was shocked and felt guilty for even mentioning it, but told her to come over anyway, NOT to clean the kitchen though.)
       My dear Mama arrived a little while later with a gift of spaghetti and sourdough french bread "so I would not have to worry about dinner".  She wanted to start immediately on the kitchen until I told her about the knot in my neck and my headache.  Mom worked the knots and kinks out while we sat in front of the living room fire and talked.  We have not had a good visit like that in a long, long time... if ever.

       After the massage we did clean the kitchen...
                                                                                 together.

       My terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day turned into a sweet day overflowing with love and gratitude.  Thanks to my Mama, the kitchen is not desperate this weekend, my headache has dissipated and is almost gone, and I remember how sweet unconditional love feels.

Ginger

Kitten in my lap.
Contented purrs bring warmth to the chill.
She is a beauty.
Long, pale tortoiseshell coat, so regal and feminine.
Loving eyes glance up as I stroke her chin and  ears.

Is this a glimpse of Heaven?  Is this my gift for the day?
I gratefully accept.

Beauty has a name.
Blessing has a name.
God's gift has a name.
Love has a name.

          Its name is Ginger.

Let it be Autumn!

Have you noticed how some people call this season Autumn while others call it Fall?  I am not sure if one term is more proper than the other, or if it makes any difference.

Each of these words paints an entirely different picture.  Fall brings to mind the cold, blustery days, warm coats, frost on windshields, darkness coming early and back-to-school times.  Fall is about change and getting back down to business.  Not a bad thing, but somewhat drab and unimaginative.  On the other end of the spectrum, the word Autumn strikes a different chord in me.  I remember the glorious changing foliage, the beauty of crunching leaves underfoot, fresh apples and cider, fires in fireplaces and Thanksgiving.

I have been living in Fall.  The drabness in my heart has been clouding me from seeing the glorious changing foliage and hearing the leaves crunch.  I want to see and feel the beauty, to hear the geese and watch the floating leaves.  I long to bask in the fire's warmth, look forward to Thanksgiving and be excited for Christmas just around the bend.  I want to live in Autumn again.

I suppose the first step in changing things is noticing a need for change.  Perhaps this is that first step.  Perhaps tomorrow will be different.
May tomorrow be my first day of Autumn!

If not, don't fret, I will simply try again.

Contentment

Sunday morning...

Coffee
Warm fire
Music

Rain drizzles just outside the window
Kittens tackle each other at my feet

List of things to be done for Monday
Just a bit longer to relax

...Content in the moment

predniSONE Taper

I visited my rheumatologist on Thursday.  She has me keeping the prednisone at 5mg per day for a month, then halving that to 2.5mg.  After one month at that amount I am to stop entirely.  I am a little concerned about stopping it completely, but trying to look at all this one day at a time.

The RA symptoms that pretty well disappeared when I started the medication are beginning to return, especially the enormous fatigue.  I guess the hydroxychloroquine (Plaquenil) should help all the symptoms but it can take a few months to feel the full effect.  I hope it truly does help with the fatigue, because that is the most aggravating symptom.  I can live with pain and stiffness in joints, being exhausted and weak constantly is a nightmare.

I think I worry too much.  I worry that I will feel worse again and lose all the energy I have gained... I worry that we will not have enough money to pay for things, like medications, the kittens, firewood and food.  I worry that I am always going to feel cloudy and lost... I worry that I will never again feel close to the Lord like I used to so long ago.
I wonder why I let myself worry so incessantly about every little thing, most of which I have no control over.  I try to blame it on my Mom for "giving me the worrying gene" then I feel guilty for blaming anyone, when clearly it is all in my own head.

I hope to feel more awake and alive soon, but so far things are just foggy.

I suppose I should pray for peace.  Have not done that in quite a long while.  Maybe it will be easier than I think?

Pouty Pepper

     Pepper is a pouter.  ESPECIALLY when she goes to the vet.  The poor girl has had a rough start at kitten hood.  She came home from N.O.A.H. with a little kitty cold and a huge case of bashful (that she has since mostly got over,) and now has a yucky, runny nose, watery eyes, sneezing and coughing fits cold!  We took her to see Dr. Wilson this afternoon and came home with antibiotics and eye medicine.
     Michael and I had a good conversation on the way home, and I was reassured that it doesn't matter how much they cost us, our little kittens are a joy and a blessing and NEVER a regret.  I made a joke that it's a good thing we do not have kids yet because of how much these babies have cost us!  Ginger and Pepper are more than worth it though.  God knew what He was doing when He guided us to the shelter that solemn Saturday afternoon.  We have been blessed more than I could have hoped.

He always does give us beauty for ashes and the oil of joy for our mourning.

Awakening?

     I felt a feeling today... one that has been absent a long time.  This sensation crept up like a shy kitten, curious if I would turn on it, squash or ignore it.  It pounced at my heart with an intensity I have not felt in quite a while.  My heart swelled with the emotion and, to my amazement, the feeling lasted through the afternoon.
     The sensation was one of joy, longing, peace and anticipation all rolled into one great big heart flutter.  I felt joy watching a young mother with her rambunctious three year old... longing for that kind of connection and love that only comes with motherhood... peace (instead of fear or dread) when dreaming of having my own babies... and the anticipation of wishing for the time to come soon.
     Don't get me wrong, I am not going to jump the gun before we have both agreed on our situation.  I would not want to get us in too far over our heads and not be able to afford food, shelter or clothes for our family.  The tragedy of poverty has pushed too many families to the breaking point and I would be devastated to feel that we were heading in that direction.  My heart is simply thankful for the reprieve.  I have not felt the intensity of that joyful yearning since... well, since Grandma died.  Things have been bottled and shut away for so long that I assumed if I ever again felt I wanted to have kids it would be too late and my clock would have run out.
     When Grandma died, so suddenly in July of 2008... my heart was broken.  My joy was crushed and life was gray.  The deep melancholy has only slighted lifted in these two years since.  Clinging tightly to the memories and trying to forget the reality was all I felt I could do.
     I used to dream of the day when we would surprise her with the wondrous news, "Congratulations, Great-Grandma!!".  I could just picture her squealing with delight, wrapping us both into a gigantic bear hug, tears no doubt glistening in her beautiful eyes.  My picture of that day was so vivid that I could imagine nothing else with her gone.  After all, what would be the point of having a baby if they could never know their Great-Grandma Gail?  I figured her death was the end of a dream that I had, and without her there would be no reason to have children.  (Obviously I was not thinking of my own parents, who are and will be fantastic, loving grandparents.)
     I am glad I once again felt the maternal yearning.  The joy is returning, I can feel it.  I must simply remember to embrace it and let my heart rest.


I am grateful for this light at the end of my long, dark tunnel.
Perhaps my heart is awakening.
Praise the Lord.