Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Sometimes it's just wrong to go to bed without saying something

It's been a wearying week.  I think a lot of it is my entire system falling apart in relief that Brad's surgery went well and that he is home and even working a little ...


Today was not a good day.  There's been a bit of mental illness ramp-up on my part, and while this is no longer new to me, and I do have coping skills, it's still exhausting.  And I picked B up from school after studying myself into a stupour over "Chapter Three:  The Brain" and Brad was a little bit down and I just couldn't stand the thought of leaving my house again tonight, but it was our turn to do the pickup half of the hockey driving, and I was just really really really done, you know?

So I asked God for courage.

And then B texted me "M's Dad is bringing us home."  Are you sure? I asked, and he was sure, and just to be safe, I looked up M's Dad's cell number and guess what?  I didn't have to do any hockey driving tonight, which freed up some time to make a nice dinner for my recovering husband. 

And then just for icing on the cake, one of the OTHER parents in the hockey car pool called and offered to do my driving for me tonight.

And the phone rang and it was Brad's buddy and they had a good talk, and there is the promise of a visit soon. (He doesn't live in the same city as we do).

And the doorbell rang and there was a cookie bouquet from Brad's employer.

And a few minutes later the doorbell rang again, and then was an ex-co-worker of Brad's and he came in and sat down and the three of us had a really nice visit, and when he left he handed Brad a card, and did I mention I've been praying desperately that I manage to get all our bills paid this month?  and inside the card was a most generous gift, enough to take the edge off, and that's when I started to cry and cry and cry because:

Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for His mercies never fail.

A succession of small things, but one after the other, all evening long.  I'm still tired, and the mental illness issue is still there, but over there, in the corner, gleaming a tiny, mighty light?  That's hope.  Thank you to all of you who were the hands and feet of Jesus for us tonight.