3 states, 9 cities and towns, 12 different living situations, and 12 churches— all before I was 18. When I look at it this way, staying put, for me, has become sacred.
You might ask why I moved so much, which would be a logical question. To be delicate, there were many reasons but for the sake of discretion, I’ll just say there were financial and spiritual motivations as to why my parents felt we needed to move. I’ll also say, as an adult child, I don’t agree with all the decisions my parents made, however, I do believe they were doing the best they could at the time. And they loved me and my siblings, deeply. They always did the best they could to provide in the face of immense struggle.
For an intuitive, sensitive, shy little girl, these moves were challenging. This may be why I feel anxious when entering a room full of people I don’t know. That feeling of all-eyes-on the-new-girl. All-eyes-on-the-new-family, happened far more often than was comfortable for me.
My parents lived on the edge. In Arkansas, in the late 1970’s early 80’s, my dad was taking whatever odd jobs he could to provide for his family. He went without consistent work for 2 years during that time. My parents believed with fierce faith that God would provide for their needs. My mom sent dad to the store with a grocery list and $7 to eat on for a week. He had gotten everything on the list, but didn’t have money for the bread. Lo and behold, as he’s walking out of the grocery store, there was a loaf of bread in puddle. Untainted, perfect loaf of bread. (What? Yup. This happened. And when you’re hungry and it’s on your grocery list and you have to feed your family, you’ll pick up that loaf of bread.) Reflecting on that event, my mom said, “God took care of us in the strangest ways.” (You think?)
We all have events in life where there is so much uncertainty. Often, the predictable way we’d like for things to work out, is not the outcome. I have a ‘bread in the puddle’ situation that I’d like solved, instead of it being food for the week, as it was in my parents’ lives, it’s whether or not we’re going to have to rip a wall out of our house (not kidding). I’d really like a miracle. This whole solar-panel-debacle has lead us to building code violations, which have lead to so much stress and torment about this wall that is 1 foot too close to the property line. (Also not kidding. Uh, county peoples, no one in our hood cares that this wall that has been here since the 1950s, now is used as a bedroom instead of a garage. Really county peoples, no one cares, except you.) No wonder I have ulcers. Maybe, God, could you just give me a loaf of bread in a puddle? Stranger things have happened.
So as we prepare for my surgery, there are looming cloud-questions; what’s going to happen to our house and how much will it cost? Where will we put all of the stuff in our room while it’s being remodeled? How will I be able to help move stuff (we’ve got a lotta stuff) after surgery? I’ve done all I can do. I’ve prepared my ‘grocery list’. I’ve gone to the county office in Arcadia 3 times, we’ve hired an architect to draw new plans. Cha ching! Meanwhile, these wonderful solar panels that have been installed sit, unused. Until we get the back of the house properly permitted, we can’t have the final inspection for the solar panels approved. Maybe, God, could you just give me a loaf of bread in a puddle? We’ve stayed put in this house. This is our home.
WARNING: The ‘Real Deal’ Alert:
My stomach or intestines are making some noises like action happening in the Wild West. From the moment I woke up this morning, my stomach be like, “Hey, I’m here, don’t forget about me, I haven’t seen any of the food you normally eat. Could you throw me a bone, please?” Bowels have become more fluid and more often over the last 2 days, after several days of no bowel movements. I’m not sure what this means. It’s, well, ew.
H. Pylori test could not be given yesterday, because apparently the breath test will not be effective if I’ve been taking Protonix. Unbeknownst to me, you have to be off these type of stomach acid reducing medications two weeks prior to taking the breath test.
Until tomorrow. Love you loves.
LUV you Joy and that you are willing to share the “real deal” – praying for a loaf of bread (not in a puddle) but delivered to your doorstep.
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Thank you so much Kim. I appreciate it. I’ll be waiting for that loaf of bread.
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