Spiritual or Stupid?

We had a terrible storm blow through town last evening. Driving around town this morning to survey the damage, we noticed that the strongest winds took a definite path; we were directly in that path. Outside of some limbs down and having to have a large split limb cut off by a tree service, we escaped major damage. Many of our neighbors weren't so fortunate.

After the winds had died down and we were waiting for help to arrive for the young woman who lives across the street, I got on Facebook. I've come to some definite conclusions.

1. I must surely not be as spiritual as some of my friends who say, "Where's your faith? God can take care of you! Don't be afraid." My response: God gave us common sense, and He expects us to use it. If you can at all, get to a safe place.

2. Storms scare me. We've always gone to the basement at the screech of the sirens. Don can't do that anymore, and I'm not going to leave him upstairs. Conclusion: when you are unable to get to a safe place, pray, PRAY, PRAY!!

3. I think some people use their "super spirituality" as an excuse for extreme stupidity. Conclusion: any person who would jeopardize the well-being of others is extremely self-centered.

Ok. Ok. Maybe I'm just not spiritual enough. When the wind starts howling and the walls of the house start heaving, it scares me. Sure, I know God can take care of me. But, if I'm expecting Him to do everything for me, I just might as well go out and sit in the middle of the interstate during rush hour!

I'm just sayin'. . .

I miss . . .

. . . full-body hugs (tight ones) with my honey.
. . . walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand.
. . . going to our favorite restaurants without making plans ahead of time to insure there's room.
. . . having someone with me to pump the gas.
. . . sending Don to the basement to get something for me or out to run errands.
. . . having help (even if it was messy help) in preparing the meals or cleaning up afterward.
. . . sight-seeing and relaxing as Don drove us to our destinations.

I'm holding tightly to . . .
. . . the sound of my beloved's voice as he speaks to me or prays with me at night.
. . . the even murmur of his breathing.
. . . the many "I love you"s that I get every day.
. . . the sight of that precious brown-eyed smile.
. . . watching Don enjoy his favorite foods as he eats with delight and gusto.
. . . the interchanges (verbal, physical, or otherwise) between Don and the many people - family and friends - who love him and are making an extra effort to stay close.

Boring Is Good

Through the month of January, our lives were one upheaval after another. A wild roller coaster ride of things breaking, spewing, leaking or otherwise causing some kind of havoc.

Today is Valentine's day. Don asked if I wanted to go to Denny's for breakfast, which I did. We came home, I broke up some of the ice on the back driveway, did laundry, cleaned house, and helped my mom at her house for a while. All of which are nice, normal, unstressful things.

I've decided boring is good. I'm enjoying not having a crisis to deal with. As far as I know, everything is fixed and working around my house. It's a good feeling, and I'm praying it lasts!

Cabin Fever

We've been snowed/iced in at our house for several days. I think (the days are all a snowy blur) our last time out was either last Sunday or Monday. Fortunately, I had stockpiled lots of food, we have oodles of books and videos, Dish Network and a functioning computer - so I was good to go. So was Don, for the first couple days. After that, he began to get restless. He would go to the front door and open it, looking out. Then he would go to the back door and open it, looking out again. He's, by nature, a hands' on, do-it-yourself kind of man, and being inside without the opportunity to break the monotony was killing him.

I had tried to break the ice and clear the walks and driveway a couple times, but it was much too thick for my limited strength. Thursday evening, Don's youngest brother came by, and he didn't have much more luck than I did.

On Friday morning, a friend and his son came by and completely cleared the driveway for us. They had barely finished when Don was ready to go out and get something for lunch. I wasn't thrilled at the prospect, but took him to Qdoba (quickly becoming his favorite place) anyway. That evening, we went to the church for game night. Don took his banjo, and he and Tom spent some time pickin' and grinnin'.

Friday night, we had four more inches of snow. So, Saturday morning, I got out (much to my husband's consternation) and shoveled the driveway again. The snow wasn't wet, so it wasn't a terribly straining job. I easily (well, that may be a slight exaggeration) shoveled all the way down to the concrete - from the house to the street.

Later, Don and I were watching some old pictures scroll on the screen saver of the computer. Pictures of the two of us playing with the grands while camping in Southern Illinois. Pictures of Don working on bicycles with our younger grandson. Pictures of Don flying kites, playing ball, working, enjoying life. Suddenly, I understood better why he was experiencing cabin fever so terribly. It wasn't just the past few days that had taken away his freedom, it was the last three years. He does amazingly well, I think, with the limitations he's been handed. But there's still a longing for the former days. Cabin fever was just an excuse to be "normal" again. To not be held in by four walls. Freedom to move about. Freedom to interact with others.

As long as I'm able, I vow to allow Don to live as normal a life as possible, despite his restrictions. Lord willing, there will be few prolonged periods of cabin fever. He deserves to be out among his friends and family. And I deserve to be there right beside him!