I’ve been thinking about pursuing alternative methods of treatment in conjunction with the excellent medical care Peanut is already recieving. I feel I do her a disservice when I see her only in terms of a diagnosis, and I think that no matter what the future holds, she could certainly benefit from better supportive care.
But where should we start? Maybe…bunny massage.
My brother and I were priming the walls of the addition today. Mom and Dad were both at work, and Hannah was at a friend’s house, so it was just the two of us working in a rather small area with large amounts of white, chemical-scented glop.
As we were working, and already starting to get goofy, a septic truck pulled up near the house in order to pump our tank. The side of the truck said (I kid you not) “4,000 Gallons of You Know What”. That’s when the edges of our sanity began to chip away, and as the truck pulled out of our driveway and down the road, Stephen and I belted out a stirring rendition of “(Everything I Do) I Do It for You” only replacing the word you with poo.
Like I said, I’m blaming the paint fumes.
Yesterday, my dad preached his last sermon at our old church. We were all there as a family, and even though I’ve been gone from that church since October it was still bittersweet. Then there was last night’s call from Uncle Jim regarding Papa’s condition, and today’s sobering news from the vet, and the weight of it all has left me feeling a little raw. It’s a lot to digest all at once.
At church yesterday I saw people that had been on the Ethiopia trip, and we talked for a bit. I can’t believe it’s been nearly a year, and over these past few weeks not a day has gone by where I don’t think about it. I was thinking about it this morning as I drove home. The weather is wet and overcast, just like it was in Addis Ababa. I looked over to see a vegetable stand by the side of the road, walled in with the same kind of plastic that they use for shacks in the city. I nearly lost it. Deep breaths. Blink back the tears.
I’m okay. Stuff happens. As Mother Theresa so famously said, “I know God won’t give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.”
My Lord, I know not what I ought to ask of Thee.
Thou and Thou alone knowest my needs.
Thou lovest me more than I am able to love Thee.
O Father, grant unto me, Thy servant, all which I cannot ask.
For a cross I dare not ask, nor for consolation;
I dare only to stand in Thy presence.
My heart is open to Thee.
Thou seest my needs of which I myself am unaware.
Behold and lift me up!
In Thy presence I stand,
awed and silenced by Thy will and Thy judgments,
into which my mind cannot penetrate.
To Thee I offer myself as a sacrifice.
No other desire is mine but to fulfill Thy will.
Teach me how to pray.
Do Thyself pray within me.
Amen.
