Whether it Rains or Pours
My neck, arm, wrist, hand thing that I've had for 14 years since my eldest was born has worsened. I shouldn't even be typing this, but I am. See, it's this stubborn perserverance that probably has brought me to this place.
I examined my hand last night, asked friends who were over for dinner to look at it, yes, it's pretty swollen. It's all in my head, I'd like to presume. Mind over body.... isn't that they way the old saying goes?
My husband is off doing relief work in tsunami stricken Ibaraki, Japan, he's only been gone for 1/3 of the time he's supposed to gone for... time is definitely going by too slow.
It's my right hand, the hand I use for everything! I'm typing this out like a second grader first learning they keyboard.
The passage I read this morning has left me pondering, "Make us glad by the measure of the days you afflicted us, and the years in which we suffered adversity." Ps 90:15 Make us glad? The paradox of the Christian life lies here. Joy in suffering. Glad in affliction. I've carried this pain for a long time, but I haven't been glad for it. Father, be my joy today. As I ride the bullet train to the hospital, or a taxi, would you fill me with this kind of deep joy?