Suffered a setback health-wise a few weeks ago that left me weary and discouraged. I lost a substantial amount of ground in my recovery from this stomach problem that I still haven’t completely made up. The Mister assures me in no uncertain terms that I will indeed get it all back and then some. I smile and wish I felt as sure. “Lord, I believe. Help thou my unbelief.” I find I’m not inclined to start rolling that boulder up the mountainside again. I’d rather go home and bake cookies.
But this turn of events has nudged us into a revamping of my recovery plan – diet, meds, rest, and meditation. And it is helping me get back on track again, albeit wah-HAY slower than I’d like. And it’s even brought with it a revelation or two.
For instance, I knew (without knowing how I knew) that I would not really start to heal until the warm weather set in. A week and a half ago, there was frost on everyone’s pumpkin in my little corner of the world. A few days ago, the temperature approached 90 degrees! Too big a swing too soon for me, but today, it’s 85, so it looks like the warm weather is finally here to stay, and I no longer have to invest precious energy into keeping warm. Sounds strange I’ll grant you, but it’s an enormous relief! It feels like my body only ever truly relaxes when the thermometer passes 80.
I’ve been getting outside a bit more too, getting my Vitamin D the natural way. 
I’ve planted my boxes, twice. The coleus put their hands to their foreheads, fell over in a dead faint, and were summarily replace by begonias, which are doing very nicely. Also, I took the first steps today towards creating a memorial garden for my dear friend, Jill. I hope to have it completed by her first anniversary, July 6th.
And in spite of various setbacks, my writing is progressing. Funny, huh? Even if I can’t get to my writing desk, when I turn off my bedside lamp at the end of the day and close my eyes, the story starts to play out in my head. It’s like a movie being run for an audience of one. And it feels like a safe place for me where I can leave behind the stresses of the day and any health concerns, and watch the characters interact with each other, listen in on their dialogue. It comforts me. I still worry how I’m ever going to write the scenes I see at night, but that’s a concern for the daylight hours. Though I don’t know how, I think this is helping me to heal as well.
Finally, my church family continues to uphold me in prayer. My piano is covered with their cards, and they ask The Mister about me every Sunday. And my FaceBook friends have also surrounded me with a warm blanket of love and concern. This much I know, and in this I trust, that love heals.
And I am well-loved!
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