The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him (Lamentations 3:24).
Winds
Have you ever had one of those stormy seasons when it seems the winds will never cease?
Ever had a season when you prayed and prayed, and instead of an answer, you got rain?
It all began when I took time off to format my book. At my yearly eye exam, I was told I needed cataract surgery. “You’ll need to wait until after the surgery to buy glasses.”
Really?
The leg on my glasses had come loose at the drill mount. Rather than the usual nine o’clock position, it hung at the eight. I had been dizzy for weeks because of it. I avoided reading and writing until one Sunday afternoon when, for some odd reason, the leg moved again. This time it moved to the ten o’clock position. But at least I could see clearly enough to read. So I glued that bad boy into place. Yay!
After Bible study one morning, my daughter and I were talking. I removed my glasses, and the leg caught on my Bible and popped off completely! No matter. I could still see. Only the protective coating began peeling. Think of looking out a windshield smeared with grease and the window tint peeling. But I was okay with it, I was having surgery. In fact, we were laughing about it all because it was so ridiculous.
The winds rose.
Rain
My daughter twisted her ankle. It turned black and blue. Thankfully, X-rays showed no broken bones.
My utility room flooded. Bought new washer. Threw traitor out the door. Replaced old spigot. Broke the PVC pipe. More flooding. Fixed pipe. Installed washer. Washed clothes. Drain pipe worked loose. More flooding. Strapped that boy in. Problem solved until the next morning when I washed a load of clothes. More flooding. Remembered Helene. Argh. Went outside and found the problem. Worked for several hours. Fixed problem. Realized my glasses had fallen off my face. Looked for them. Couldn’t see the frameless wonder. Texted family. Daughter said, “What in the world, Momma!” Hubby came home and found them. The one leg was bent, and a nose piece was missing. I had stomped on them several times. My hero straightened the leg. The new eye doctor’s office felt sorry for me and replaced the nose piece for free. Still laughed at all of it.
The waves strengthened.
Eye surgery went well. I could see! I read the small line on the eye chart for the first time in my life. (I’ve worn glasses since I was three.) Ha!
Two weeks later, I was dismissed but still had to take the meds for two more weeks. To celebrate, I went outside to piddle around. Three bees got into my hair. (Have you seen my hair?) My daughter found two. The third one stung my trapezius muscle.
Growing up, my dad was a beekeeper. I got used to bee stings. Not this kind! I’m not sure if it was the meds or the Hashimoto’s, but my arm swelled and felt like it was on fire for three days and nights.
Y’all, those who know me will tell you she’s no wimp. But the bee, well, I had a moment. It hurt to laugh during those days. So I kept quiet.
One afternoon, a thought popped into my head. I say “popped” because I know it wasn’t mine!
That thought? “Can you think of a reason to praise Him now?”
Before I could process my answer, I had another thought. This time it was mine. “Yes, I can. I thank God only one bee stung me!”
Week three, my body began reacting more and more to the meds. The pain and nausea kept me on the couch. It became so bad that I almost called my daughter to take me to the emergency room. Instead, I called my three prayer partners. Five minutes later, the pain had subsided enough that I could stand it. After an “abnormal” reaction to the drops, I called the eye doctor, who sent me to my doctor for tests. Praise the Lord, everything came back normal. It was the drops. Four days after I took the last drop, the pain was gone.
Peace
During all this time, I had to decide whether to publish my manuscript or remove excess flab. It had been edited and proofed. But my proofreader, who is an editor, suggested it was too long. When I began formatting, it had more pages than I wanted. With everything else going on, I got stuck in a wave of failure for a while. But in the end, I made the painful decision to wait. I felt peace.
Now I know you may not believe this. And I can tell you, looking back, I find it hard to believe. Not where God is concerned, but where I’m concerned. Through all of it, there was this unexplainable sweet peace and joy abiding in my heart. And a hymn rolling around in my head. It was as if I was numb to all the action but not the pain and grief. I cried, I prayed. The morning of my tests, I was hurting. I walked like I was on eggshells because of the pain. I asked the Lord, “How do I get through this storm?” Psalm 23 came to mind. I had my answer.
To get to the other side, I had to sail “through” the storm.
God was and is faithful through it all.
The blessings I spoke about in an earlier post are joy in the midst of sorrow and peace amid chaos.
I am so thankful for this season. I’m sure I’ve cultivated more treasure, but it is yet to be revealed. I’m not on the other side of this storm yet. But my Captain is with me, and I know when He speaks, the storm will cease. And I give Him thanks today!
I grew up in a small town in northeast Ohio, with a twin sister and two younger siblings, in a Christian home. I loved to read more than anything, and characters in novels were like beloved friends and companions. I actually felt pained when a book ended and I had to separate myself from them. As a result, I re-read my favorite books many times!
Gail Johnson 