Apologies

I apologize for not posting for such a long time. Since I last posted, alot has happened in real life, which left little or no time for anything else. Shortly after my last post, Bubba's arm got broken. He was throwing rocks, and not at a target, unless you consider me and the windows of my pickup as targets...lol. I tried to make him get up off the ground and come inside the house...he resisted. I tried again from behind, he twisted away, we both fell, and there was an ominous snap. Boy did I (and still do) feel horrible. I know it was an accident, but I still wish it had never happened. That made for a fun 4 hrs in the local ER. The doctor has an autistic son, so he understood and could deal with Bubba, which helped. After his two week checkup, they decided to keep it in the splint rather than put on a hard cast and run the risk of it separating; but I guess he did not agree...yep, he took it off one night, and we got to spend another 5 hrs in the ER, and then ended up redoing it ourselves at home because they put it back on wrong and too tight. I know, that should be the end of the story, but it's not. The next weekend, he was quietly sitting on the back porch steps, waiting for his dad to come home in the big truck...and when he pulled in the drive, Bubba jumped up, caught his foot in the steps and hurt it. You guessed it...another trip to the ER; but thankfully no break, just a severe strain/sprain (no one would ever say which).

Then, just as things were calming down; things were getting back to normal, or as close as it ever gets around here...and my dad ended up in the hospital in Ohio. I was unresolved as to whether to go up right away. They ran tests, and tried to fix some problems when they were doing a heart cath; but the blockage was too bad. So they scheduled him for surgery. I still was unsure about going, because I would have to take Bubba with me. When I called the day before surgery, while we were on the phone, he got dizzy...then he coded. Guess who thru' everything but the kitchen sink in the truck and left for Ohio! My husband's dispatcher got him up to Ohio, almost before I got there, so he could take Bubba with him; and I could stay with my dad.

I can say that the surgery was a success, I wish I could say that the visit was...unfortunately, all of us siblings acted like we were kids again...and acted accordingly...need I say that we were never the best behaved children in the world. I wish I could blame it all on stress, but I can't. All I could do was apologize to my folks, and pray that I could learn to hold my tongue, grow up, and respect them enough to behave. I hope that this is a lesson I don't have to keep learning; because it hurt. I guess none of us likes to look at our true selves...especially when we are not living up to our full potential. Spent alot of time thinking about this, and my faith on the long trip home, and I am continuing to think about it all. Change is not easy, but it can happen.

Here is a poem I wrote once, that still says alot to me:

REST NOW


I wonder if there is ever a time
when we are not touching
the lives of others.....
if there is a time when we are
turned off...if you will...or are we
always affecting?
Do we always have to feel their pain,
to always hurt with them, and bleed?
Is this the part of
that which makes us like God,
in that He is always with us,
and never just one of us...but all,
and has never rested.
I wonder if we will ever see that
our lives do not have to be so
overly complicated;
that we need to lean back,
in the arms that always hold us,
and just relax in them.
For if God wanted us to do it all,
then He would have given us
the power to do so.
Yet since He did not..and will not,
then perhaps we are supposed to
be just like children;
for a child waits upon an adult to
fix those things in his small world,
that are needed to live;
he does not try to cook or clean,
or earn his way or change what is,
he just accepts it all.
When will we remember to listen,
and to heed His advice to us,
to recall the lilies,
for they are clothed in the finest,
and the birds which are fed
by His hand.
We struggle so hard to do things,
and work with all we have to perform,
to no avail;
do you suppose that we are given
talents to make things easier,
not more difficult?
Could it be that we are, perhaps,
created in His image and likeness,
so that others,
may relate, in some way, to us,
and find in their similarity to our lives,
the way to touch God.

susan