Fibro fog, pain, writing sandwiched in between. Quotes. Sermon notes. Encouragement.
|Today God sent one of our 15 year old members to my portfolio. There she found this item that I posted long ago: "The Answer Is Prayer"
What a blessing it was to have someone that young encourage me. It was also good to revisit something I wrote long ago about prayer.
When I taught a Vacation Bible School class in about 1987, the kids loved to pray.
One boy simply asked, "Holy Ghost, help me pray." Then he got quiet.
A girl asked, "Well, are you going to pray?"
The boy responded, "God's Spirit is going so fast that I can't keep up. Just listen with your own heart."
The other day my son, who is now 27, told me that it's difficult for him to understand that his mother is no longer the active women that he remembers from his childhood. Back then, I was a regional director for a home party plan. I taught Sunday School. I was a Lay Speaker at our church. I volunteered in the community and at the private school where Derek attended. Our life was a whirlwind.
He also remembers having grandparents who were active in their 60s and 70s and it concerns him that his mom, who hasn't quite reached those ages is not that active.
Boy, oh boy, did I want to shout at God about how unfair it is that I cannot do the things I once did. Fibromyalgia stinks. So does arthritis. And all the things that go along with them. I hate the choices I face - constant pain without medications or feeling drugged with them. I hate that. I hate that "fibro fog" makes me do crazy thing, like opening the refrigerator when the microwave timer dings. I hate that.
But as I sat that afternoon talking with God, I was reminded that even though I don't even write as much as I once did, my words are here for the world to discover.
Cianter discovered some of my words today and gave me the encouragement I needed.
Thank you, Lord, for sending someone to visit my portfolio today. Thank you for sending a young encourager my way at a time when I needed some human encouragement.