Sorry for the Snow

I made a very fatal error yesterday as my fluctuating hormones had run amuck and I was experiencing the pity party of the year. My narcissistic self imagined the world revolving around me, ready to come on the run to save the day. I wondered and pondered and questioned and bribed and then wondered some more. My delay in surgery could have been a sign. God was talking to me. I should maybe further delay or even cancel my appointment with the scalpel. Was I really in that much pain that I should put this device inside me? God, give me sign. I need you God. What should I do?

Then came today. Winter came complete with the barometer dancing around and the snow reminding us that it really is January. I ached. My hips burned with the ferocity of my glowing fireplace. Each step brought a reminder that I was a goofball to wonder and ponder and question and bribe and wonder some more. I didn’t just wake up and feel the urge to check into the hospital for the sexy sleeping apparel and quiet, peaceful atmosphere. Multiple doctors agreed that this device needed to find a home in me. Knock it off Janet. You need this surgery.

So my advice to you is to be careful what you ask God. Sometimes signs come with a might ker plunk. With this change in temperature and drop in barometer, God was pretty easy to understand, even for me. I do feel guilty that I brought about all this snow for the Chicagoland area. I hope your commute wasn’t too  bad.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  Even with my direct line to God, He still sends me signs that echo throughout the suburbs and beyond.