Driving along singing with the stereo. Thinking about home and how much of who I am dances in California air, but a part of my spirit is now here in North Carolina too.
At the thrift store I found some gorgeous plates that remind me of the 70's & a very old Joy of Cooking book. I collect old books- the older the better. The employee stocking the shelves was holding the book with love and I could see she really wanted it. She explained that employees are not allowed to purchase from there. I put the book in my basket and after she rang me up I told her I bought the book for her. I loved her surprise! Her cheeks turned red and she was so happy. You could light the sky with her smile. :) :) :)
Starting to know the city I live in. The woman at the library knows who me and my mom are and always says hi.
Such a pleasant thing- to gab with a stranger and share the same air for a few minutes.
Only recently have I started walking with my head up again, meeting eyes with strangers, feeling confident in my own skin. For so long I walked around entirely broken. Rushing when I went out on a rare day by myself. Scared I was going to have a meltdown or be too tired or in pain to go anywhere at all. For a long, long time it WAS like that. This, for my adventurous spirit, was most crushing. I felt the giant Fibro monster on my back at all times. Not simply the physical pain, but more crippling, the emotional. I was so nervous and afraid. So, so afraid. Somehow in recent months I have got my groove back, and I smile freely, I mosey, I live. I feel the pain of Fibromyalgia, I pay heed to it's demands, I feel the strangling of fatigue... but I DO when I can, and my oh my, it's a sensational thing! I am no longer terrified to go on a long drive (well, maybe not too far), get lost on purpose, and explore. Maybe now I can get to know North Carolina a little better. It's time, I think.
Crying at the thrill of simply seeing a movie. Earplugs in, tears streaming down my face. Such a small thing, such a treat. Watching talent unfold before my very eyes with people singing and moving and breathing life on that giant screen. Life... It's a miracle. I used to take it for granted. Going to a movie whenever I wanted. But now it's a treasure among a common day. I love that.
As I left the theatre the sun sat low in the sky and I got to grab a Starbucks and head home to ride my bicycle. Is this really my life? How can it be THIS grand in just the ordinary?
And this is what sickness has taught me... That life, in all of its forms (good, bad, & mundane), is precious and fleeting and so, so, so lovely.
After the pain and darkness of the last three years I finally understand the saying, "I have Fibromyalgia but it doesn't have me." I could never agree with that before, because truthfully, Fibromyalgia DID have me, and if I am not careful it could have me again. But after so much work, and miles of progress, I know now I can have a tangible life EVEN with illness.
There is still so much to be learned in this life on earth, and I am wide open to receive it. I saw this as I drove away from the theatre and as I read it I laughed. It's fitting because the space in my heart is vast and ready for all of the things to come... the happy, the sad, the ordinary.
Thank you, God. Thank you, thank you.
Psalm 36:5-9
Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the highest mountains,
your justice like the great deep.
You, Lord, preserve both people and animals.
How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!
People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house;
you give them drink from your river of delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light we see light.
Your love is in the little things...
With the buffet of sprinkling stars as I rode my bicycle around the block,the road pitch black but for a few sporadic street lamps. It was a little scary, and a lot of fun.
With the opening of my very favorite resturant, Olive Garden, opening in this little town. Making it that much more like home, where I spent so many hours with so many wonderful people eating those salty, greasy bread sticks, sharing lives.
With the parents you have blessed me with.
With this warm house to be safe in night after night.
Dear Life,
You thrill me.
Honest, you do.
