Tipping

Last week I did a lot of whining about how long it has taken to get into surgery from the time that I first went to see the surgeon.  It included waiting for an initial appointment, then waiting for a shots appointment, then taking a detour to the ER, then waiting for another appointment with the surgeon, to waiting for the actual day of surgery.  Since last September,  I have been in quite a bit of pain and the last three weeks I have encountered having a baby type of pain, but without the miracle prize at the other end.  The last week, I have spent mostly laying in bed, until my dad found me this great zero gravity lawn chair at Costco.  Just when you think you can't love a store any more . . . .

On Friday, I was dreading the weekend.  Just more wasted days to wait, in pain.  I had hardly laid eyes on my kids and I was sinking into a bit of a scary place for me.  But with this new found chair that I could actually sit up in, a book that a friend gave me, and my journal, God took those wasted days and brought about some serious purpose and beauty.

While I have read pages here and there from some books, I haven't read a book from cover to cover since before Dave died.  And while I write on my blog, I hadn't done any real personal journaling since this pain started, I don't think.

The book I read was Wildflower Living, by Liz Morton Duckworth.  She has encountered her own tragedies throughout her adult life.  I felt like I could relate to her and she would be able to relate to me.  It was perfect for me this weekend, as it was an easy read and at the end of each chapter there were questions to journal about.  After all of my rampant journaling, my last entry of the weekend ended with this:

"While the wait has been long and the pain so frustrating, these days have also given me a bit of a gift.  I have had a few days (where I could actually sit to read and write) to press my faith roots down a little deeper.  It's like the hurricane winds and tornado skies had pulled my roots up some.  My tree is leaning.  It's a little tippy and not only have I wondered if I was going to fall to the ground, but I think others have wondered the same.  I feel like this unasked for time to reconnect with God and to read has helped me water the soil around me and allowed my roots to grab hold and sink in again.  Roots of faith, and roots of trusting that Jesus has a plan. . . . I think God knew that I needed this time to gain some perspective, to evaluate if I REALLY trust Him, and to do this - journal about how I am really feeling."

My surgery has been moved up to tomorrow morning at 7:30.  I am a mix of nerves, excitement for a new lease on life, fear of great disappointment, peace in knowing that God has got it all and giddiness that this day is finally here.