Monthly Archives: March 2010

I just put
the last paper
into the last folder
for the accountant and
(as far as I know, anyhow)
I am done
getting tax information together
for another year.

I just might make that five o’clock appointment!

Thank you, Lord Jesus!!!
(And everyone else that cooperated with me.)
What a relief!



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Yesterday, I rode around and around in the parking lot at Beebe Medical Center’s outpatient lab/emergency room looking for a parking place.  After about five times around and deciding that I needed to go somewhere else, a pickup pulled out of a very narrow space, and since I was driving Certain Man’s pickup, I decided that I could probably squeeze into it.  And I did.  It really was a tight fit, but I was able to get out of the door, into the hospital, got the labwork done that I needed, and got back out to the pickup to discover that things had actually opened up a little bit there, and it wasn’t so tight.

This morning, in those delicious, drowsy moments after I first got awake, lying there thinking about the fact that this is Saturday, and I need to do taxes, thinking that this is my last Saturday of normal living for a while, and feeling that wave of reality sweeping over me, disturbing my peace, causing my stomach to go into a knot, I turned over and snuggled deeper into the blankets, and began to pray. 

This is where I always come when things are overwhelming.  Here is where I know that there is a space for me.  I Suddenly thought about yesterday, driving around and around in that parking place, wondering if there would ever be a spot for me, and suddenly the presence of the Lord bathed my troubled heart with such a sense of quiet and joy.

There is never a full parking lot when I am wanting to park in God’s presence.  I never have to wait for someone to leave, never have to pay, never need to feel crowded or shoved back.  No one ever takes my spot.  No one ever tells me I am parked illegally.  I brought my battered and damaged heart into His presence this morning and found a well-spring of comfort and peace.  And a reminder that these emotions are not mine to cope with alone.  He will be with me.  He knows how anxious I feel.  And that, even while I purpose to trust Him, I struggle with the pain I know is ahead, and I need to deal with the fear that wants to crowd my “parking place” in His presence.

It was getting late, and I finally pushed back the covers of my cozy nest and came on down to get busy with the day.  It is a beautiful day in Southern Delaware, and even though I need to spend it working on our Income Tax, it is a GOOD day. 

My beloved Uncle Luke used to say, “Make it a good day!” and I realize again that he know the secret of having good days was in the decisions made to co-operate with the Heavenly Father in whatever the day brought.  Last year at this time, he was fighting the last and biggest battle of his life, and we were watching with concern and intense interest and breaking hearts.  But he was a fighter, an optimist, an incredible example for us to follow, and he did not disappoint us.  Today, with a battle ahead of far lesser magnitude, but the same Heavenly Father, I purpose to follow his oft repeated instructions to us, and “make it a good day”.



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The thing that has been foremost in my mind these last few days has been the loss of my cousin’s husband to Esophageal Cancer.  Only 62, Dale Witmer was a man that will be acutely missed in so many ways.  His wife, Jeanne, is the oldest of the “Wert Cousins” and I always thought that she and her sister, Janice, were almost perfect.  I remember when Jeanne and Dale were getting married, and I was incredibly impressed with how devoted they were to each other.  Over the years, their obvious affection for each other,their four gifted sons, and now grandchildren has been a joy to behold.  The last several years, as Dale’s health has been precarious, then he was laid off from his life job, and their once comfortable lifestyle turned into stretching the resources and making do, his optimism and her determination were something that was admirable.  Sunday we plan to attend a celebration of life in Manheim, and I look forward to hearing the words, seeing the faces, and remembering this life well-lived.  A really precious tribute to Dale was posted by a daughter in law on her blog site.  It was written as a way of telling her little girlie about what a wonderful grandfather she had.  If you want to access that site, here is the link:

It is uncommonly hard on my Sweet Mama.  Just this week she marked five years of being cancer free.  She had the same cancer as Dale, and it is easy to wonder all the  “What if’s?”  and “If Only’s” and “Do you suppose’s”.

I wish so much that he could have lived.    We all do.  He was a kind, generous and good man.

In other news — 

I just got in from my pre-op visit with my primary care physician.  It was pretty simple, and I think that (at least as far as he’s concerned) I’m ready for surgery.

I’ve been thinking alot about being “ready” for surgery.  It would be nice if this was like child birth in that I could know that it was coming sometime, and I needed to be prepared ahead of time, but didn’t know exactly “when” it was going to happen.  I think I do better that way.  I know that I never wanted to have an induced labor.  One of my friends who, because of precipitous births, ended up with induced labors told me once about sitting in the parking lot of the hospital the morning she was to be induced.  “It’s like taking yourself to the guillotine,” she said grimly.  “To think that you are actually going to go in there and make this happen!”

That’s kind how I feel about this surgery.  It is hard to believe that I am going to go in there and let them replace the other knee.  But it is wonderful to think about the fact that the second knee will be replaced and then the knees will be finished for now.  Over.  Done.  WOW!!!  What a blessing that will be. 

I would be lying to say that I am without trepidation.  It has been far better than I thought it would be with my first knee replacement.  An awful lot of hard work.  Lots and lots of pain.  Blood.  Toil.  Tears.  Sweat.  And I’m not kidding.  But worth it.  And I don’t know if I thought that I would go crazy from pain, or if I would be in tears most of the time, but it was just not quite as bad as I thought.  And that new knee is doing so well.  I am three months post op with it, and it is just plain unbelievable to me how I can walk with NO FUNCTIONAL PAIN.  I’m so grateful to my Heavenly Father.  I’m grateful to Dr. Choy, too, and to his team.  But I’ve said it before, and I will say it again:  Even good doctors have bad days, and bad doctors have good days.  This is SO in the hands of the Father.  “Except the LORD heal the knee, the surgeon operates in vain.”  

So we begin the countdown.  Beginning tomorrow, no more ibuprofen, no more anti-inflamatory meds, and then lab work, EKG, and then, finally, (Lord Willing) March 11th:  A NEW KNEE. 

I am so anxious to have this behind us.



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