Sometimes it's like pulling teeth. Why there's so much resistance in some situations is beyond me, but it seems to be a fact of life. So, over a week after Stu's seizure we finally got an appointment with a doc who was covering for his vacationing PCP, and he confirmed what I had suspected----that such seizures are very common after a stroke. It was just good to have a doctor examine and advise us. We had the option of starting him on an anti-seizure medication, but because it's the first one, and there is no pattern of seizures, we chose to hold off on yet another medication. Stu also has a follow up appointment with his regular doctor in July, and that will be a relief to have him evaluated.
I would appreciate prayer for wisdom in dealing with these situations that crop up----the medical community speaks a language that is quite foreign to me. I often feel like a stranger in a strange land----one with land mines! On a bad day, it feels like one false step will send me and Stu into irrevocable harm. Grateful for a friend who reminded me today that I am not the one calling the shots : " You did the best you could. God clued you in when you were to be clued
in. I think as humans we tend to operate out of prevention. Stop the
bad thing from happening! Find a way to never let it happen again! God
is not thinking in those terms. God has his ways! He seems to be bent
on teaching us something. He loves in a way that is out of this world.
Or at least out of something we don't love from. Cause we don't love
like He does." I have trouble remembering that. Guess that's why I have friends to remind me sometimes. And I am passing it on to you! And still asking for prayer as I stumble through this experience. Thanks, Friends!
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
|Typical Grower's Market conveyance :-)|
My heavens, it's been weeks since I've written. Writing is a mysterious thing-----when the fit is on me, there's no stopping it. When it's not, there's no use trying to dredge it up. People have asked me recently about that, and I'm finding that, for better or worse, that's how it is for me.
Last time we met, it was before I had started to toy with the idea of returning to Grower's Market-----and yes, it's still a twinkle in my eye. But a dim one, at present. First I called long time Market Manager Marti Fate, sounding her out about the idea. It's been over a year, after all. She had to tell me that, at present, our old spot is occupied, the market is full to bursting with vendors, and even if she could find me another spot, the ones with electricity are limited. Aaaargh. That's the deal-breaker for me. No electricity would mean no toasted bagels with cream cheese. I can't face it. Hard enough to go without Stu, and with less products and a smaller stand----but no toasted bagels?? Not an option. For me, the ceremony of plastering a fresh toasted bagel (that I made with my own two hands) with cream cheese, while I hear the latest news from the customer waiting for it, is the main reason for even being there. The laughter, the updates, the prayerful moments. Still, Marti was hopeful that there would be an opening in July, and urged me to contact her at the beginning of that month. I confessed that I hadn't even visited the market since last year, because I was afraid I'd break down and cry. She replied, in her distinctive Tennessee drawl "I'm sure of it, and other people with you!" Marti always did have a way of hitting the nail on the head.
I have learned to push through discouraging news to the other end-----a risk, since there are times when the other end also appears discouraging. Ha! But still, armed with this conviction that it's better to move into the hard stuff than to run, I plucked up my courage, clamped my old Grower's Market baseball hat on my head for fortification, and decided to wade into the Saturday morning extravaganza that is Grower's Market in Grants Pass: the colors, the smells, the faces, the wares. As a visitor instead of a vendor, I had to adjust to the change in perspective. For one thing, I had to find a parking place! I have heard customers grumble about this challenge for years----the cheerful ones simply see it as an opportunity to take a morning walk. That's how I looked at it----part of the morning adventure. I decided to make it really weird for myself by starting at the opposite corner of the market from our old spot. I was sneaking in. Wow....I never noticed that food truck before......come to think of it, I hardly ever made it to this end of the market. Too busy in my own little corner. "Who ARE these people?" I found myself wondering as I passed space after space of unfamiliar vendors. "Where are all my favorite customers?" Maybe it was just a funny time of day, but I saw only a few familiar faces in the crowd, and only a handful of vendors that had been comrades during all the years we worked the Market.
As I slipped away, ready to move on with my day, I found myself on the other side of the discouragement. And it was quiet, and not very dramatic. No tears necessary. I have everything of importance I need, I realized, even if I don't have my old spot :-) And if I return to the Market, the old skills will take a new turn, and we will all enjoy how that looks. I found myself once again profoundly grateful for the way God shapes and molds my life. Speaking of which, I'll tell y'all about the Writer's Group that has come into my life next time. And I should have a full report about Stu's condition after his seizure last Monday. (Short answer, he seems fine. Waiting on test results.) Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!
Sunday, June 3, 2012
|Hebrew Dove?? :-) By Stu Mendelson|
I need to write this down before I forget how he put it......today I took a day off from visiting Stu, but as I settled down to watch one of his favorite movies, "Spartacus" by Stanley Kubrick, I thought of him and how he might enjoy reviewing it----so I picked up the phone and gave him a call. He was in good form, and welcomed the idea of me bringing the movie to share when I visit next, but what stands out for me is how he ended our conversation : First he thanked me for calling, and remarked that a call is almost as good as a visit:-) Then he shared "Oh, by the way, dear, I was reading Lamentations by Jeremiah in the Bible today. It's as good as seeing you when I read the Bible." he said "I feel not as lonely, and like I'm at home when I read the Bible. It's like walking in God's territory." Oh, my. Lump in my throat. Prayer answered.
Here, too, is a poem that he penned a few years ago. I find it compelling still.
Stu MendelsonMy Lord, my Creator,
I put my trust in the path that is straight
and of the right width.
Every tree that I pass bears fruit
that pleases my soul.
The several kinds of birds that inhabit their branches
sing to me,
each its song of light.
The breezes that follow on my heels cause the leaves to flutter
an herbal essence that calms,
and as I kick up the dust and grit at my feet
I'm reminded that I am but a man,
a fashioned creature.
My Lord, my Creator,
destine my steps to lie ever yearning to your Word,
walking in eternal joy
Your Face my destination.
How I long to see your love shining as a star
from divine Eyes that will not turn away.
Let me keep my eyes fixed on You
On whom my very peace and being depend.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
For reasons I don't need to go into right now, it's been a challenging week. We all have them. This evening a poem I wrote a few years ago floated back to my consciousness, and it struck me that the thought still holds true. Those pebbles pack some punch! Or maybe it's the One who gives them to us :-)
On the BattlefieldOnce again on the battlefield,
tiny in the face of my giant enemy,
I reach into the pouch for my ammunition:
How can these pebbles make any difference
against all the armor, spears and sheer muscle I see before me?
I begin to smile as I recall Who gave them to me.
He's never failed me yet.
My heart lifts as I load my slingshot
I am filled with His confidence and joy.