and autumn

    It is fall here.  I love fall.  I love the (well, up north it would be but here it is still warm so I guess I love the idea of) cooler weather.  I love the colors.  I love the smells.  Ripening fruits and vegetables, glistening  I love the magic of the leaves falling and how they swirl.  I always imagine that if you could step through the swirl, you would be taken somewhere wonderful.  As a kid, I would try to catch a falling leaf.  I thought if you caught one, you would have good luck.
     It would be ironic if Jarrad fell during the fall and not just because of the play on words.  Fall is usually associated with dying things.  Perhaps we shouldn't think of it as dying but rather as coming to rest.  Followed by sleep.  Ah, got to love euphemisms.  We try so hard to "gentle" things.  Sleep as opposed to death.  We call it seasons of life.  How often is autumn associated with old age or death.  I never felt old before this year.  Now, I think that 35 is younger than I feel.

"God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. So we will not fear when earthquakes come and the mountains crumble into the sea. Let the oceans roar and foam. Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge!" Psalm 46:1-3 

     This was the header verse for my devotion this morning.  Funny how sometimes what is supposed to comfort you only seems to taunt you.  Where is my refuge?  Because I could sure use one.

                                                                *******

Yes, I enjoy the irony of the above with this blog.

 

 

 

     This is what I wrote several hours ago.  Since then, I have taken care of my kids and husband, cleaned the kitchen and done a couple of loads of laundry.  And watched a comedy.  The "surging of waters" has faded somewhat.  Surging, crashing, roaring.  That is how it feels sometimes.  You can't catch your breath.  I had a migraine earlier this afternoon.  I was able to nap for about 90 minutes and that was wonderful but Jarrad wasn't feeling good either.  I needed to get up and take care of him.  He felt bad about it and kept sending me to lay down and I felt bad that I couldn't stay up so that he could lay down.  If you ever had a migraine, you will understand that nothing stops the jackhammers in your head except for time.  Then I felt bad that I can't even get sick.  So where is or rather, was a refuge for me?  My pity party involved wondering when I get to be taken care of.
     You know what the worst part of this is? That Jarrad went to work this week.  And yes, 4 40 minutes drives really are crappy but he was feeling good and so I was feeling good.  In fact, I was feeling like we were going to make it.  That everything might be ok.  And then he calls because he isn't feeling good. And the headache I had since I got up escalated.  And I felt like I can't breathe.
     Perhaps it is good that we are at this point in our lives with Jarrad's paraplegia.  It is a time of sleep, quiet, death if you will, but this is also a time to plant bulbs so that in the spring, you see beauty from a dried up bulb. My faith feels as small as a mustard seed" (Matt. 17:20) right now.  I know that much can come from seeds even smaller.