Tuesday, August 16, 2011

God Thumps this Proud Parent

This was quite a remarkable day in two totally different arenas. I need to include them both, partially so you may experience the magical qualities when life goes right.

First off, my daughter was born 27 years ago today at the ungodly time of 4:52 AM. I don’t do mornings well, in fact I don’t do mornings at all. Since she kept me up past late and into the wee hours of the morning, I have always managed to annually sing “Happy Birthday” to her at that specific time since her birth. The last years have been via phone. This tradition assures others of my insanity perhaps, but it is one my daughter and I treasure. After she wrecked my sleep that night, and perhaps a few more beyond that, I don’t feel guilty about waking her up. I haven’t really asked her husband’s reactions however. I feel honored and blessed to call her my daughter and now even my friend. I respect her values and beliefs, as she becomes a model mother and wife. She knows my hidden intricacies and encourages my every move. Thank you Stephanie. I love you. We have many memorable exploits, but those descriptions will have to be put on hold.

You see, God thumped me on the head today. My migraines and vertigo have been staggering these last days. I’m forced to live within inches of my porcelain goddess due to the side effects of these conditions. I reached a new low when I found myself unable to rise from the floor, my tired and weary body refusing to cooperate. Everywhere hurt! Tears continually streamed down my chubby cheeks as I sat alone, begging God for help. I wanted to disappear within the embraces of my blankets while I hugged my pillow for emotional support. God let me wallow around awhile until enough was enough.

This spring, we got a large stone mailbox, a growing trend within the reaches of our neighborhood. It measures about two feet per side and stretches to a height of almost five feet. This monstrosity has guarded our postal correspondence, daring anyone to confront it. Well, it was confronted today. A wonderful young man, who helps with our tanks and has become almost a son, was backing out of our driveway to allow us to park beside him. My beauty must have distracted him, for the edge of his side door came in contact with said mailbox. The whole darn thing fell over in a thump heard round the world, or at least within our block.

We couldn’t believe the number of people stopping by to question how a stone mailbox could possibly be horizontal. Drivers nearly collided as their necks craned to look at this oddity. There were a multitude of ideas and theories about the easiest or most efficient ways to change the direction of this stone monster. It seemed in good condition; it was just positioned in the wrong direction. The afternoon ended with the mailbox still prone but ideas still festering in the testosterone of the neighborhood. The evening brought to our doorstep a large truck that pulls cars out of unique locations onto a flatbed. The truck doors opened with two young men ready to face a new challenge. Once again, neighbors appeared ready to help and observe the fiasco. Opinions flowed freely. After straps were attached in 37 different ways, the mailbox slowly began to rise. By then 2 x 4’s were strewn across our parkway, metal pry bars varied in width and length covered the grass. A wooden flat, chains and straps piled high until they resembled a car repair garage. The great news is that our mailbox is now vertical.

I began this post with the promise of a future thump from God, and I suppose you’ve waited patiently if you have read to this point. On the back of the mailbox, one dark stone is now slightly chipped on the corner. Our wonderful friend, overflowing with unnecessary guilt, promised to restore the mailbox to pristine conditions, complete with a flowering landscape that had never existed in the past. I will blame his youth on his errors in judgment, but my husband and I don’t believe in pristine anything. This gentleman has come into our home on a weekly basis for many a year to service our saltwater tanks and has witnessed our home furnishings hidden under piles of stuff. I don’t need to further embarrass myself by going into additional detail, but I’ve never and will never be known for my impeccable housecleaning skills. I strive for organization, a goal floating off in the distance. I have given up on orderly.

I don’t want the brick fixed because gazing into the broken edge, you find God’s reflection smiling away at His earthly beings actually at their best. The mailbox fell. Whoopee! Look at all the good that happened. Neighbors and friends spanning seven decades all worked together on this heavy puzzle face down on our lawn. There were Polish and Japanese, young and old, male and female, black and white all gathered to help us. There were no arguments or raised voices. Instead laughter touched the heavens as my comedic ideas were rejected. Sweat and strained muscles carefully raised the box to its initial position. Materials from at least six different homes were used, none of them sufficient on their own. Instead, they were used together. Humanity worked.

So, life is VERY good at my home. My body is falling apart, but God reminded me that this condition couldn’t take priority for there are so many people out there ready to help us without even a request. They all came together to help work on a puzzling predicament. God showed me the camaraderie that makes Him so proud as a parent.

Parenting went well today. I’m a proud Momma (and grandma too!) My daughter fills me with pride as she walks though her life with a wonderful family at her side.
God smiles down at His children, our neighbors, banded together to help my husband and I. We are so very blessed. Life is good.

That chipped section cannot be fixed for each day I get the mail, I can glance over at the worn edges and be reminded that God has great things stored away for me. An amalgam of people came together to help without even being asked. Imagine if I would ask these neighbors. Imagine if I would ask God. Life is definitely good.

Way God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove the Life is Good:
- Others come together to help by using their God given strengths and blessings.

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