The love in my comb

Gently he pulled the brush through my hair as if each stroke was a special salve for my soul.  You could hear nothing in the silence, not even his breath or mine.  The darkness fell between us.  The moment hung there in time.  We had just witnessed so much . . . there was no need for words.  Only love moved from his hand to me, gently freeing the hairs once tangled in the madness that had just gone before us.  You might see this as an act of romance I suppose.  But this night no romance would explain this kind of tenderness that now drifted between us.  We simply enjoyed the silence, the calm, the love lain there slightly wounded just up from the floor.

That love was near me that night alright, well within my grasp.  Oh I felt it with each stroke of the brush that was the tool he could reach first in the awkward darkness.  I felt it from his warmth standing closely behind me as I sat with my legs uncomfortably collapsed underneath me on the hard tiled floor.  The rug, marred with uneven loops from the dogs paws underfoot where she slept each night, gave little warmth.  My hair was wet and so were my shoulders.  The stuggle that came with forcing myself to wash my hair in the tub at the tail end of a convulsive episode had subsided into a senseless stupor.  With my broken sentence my beloved found my grooming basket under the sink.  It made no difference what implement he chose.  His love would find its way to me with soothing swiftness followed by the tempo we might take one fine day, walking along a seashore somewhere beautiful.

Oh that I should have such an opportunity again!  Will his capable hands finger their way through my auburn hair blowing in the warm sunshine of a summer day?  Would he tighten the drawstring clasp beneath my chin of the paddling hat matched with our tandem outrigger canoe as we headed out onto the glistening lake?  Or when his arm slips around my waist as we laugh at our pup racing along the stream of a wooded path, will I forget that our tender moments were once matched with sorrow so deep?  I do hope so, Gentle Reader.  For all of us who suffer what we ought not to endure, I do pray that restoration, healing, and mercy will cover what was once ugly with that which is lovely again and again.

Until that glorious day for me, I shall keep my eyes fixed on the sunshine streaming through my bedroom window.  I know by Whose creation it shines and that one day all will bow and marvel in His glory, fully well, fully at peace.  The love of our Lord, Jesus Christ will comfort and redeem our suffering beyond what the ones we cherish could ever do for us.  And yet their heartache for sharing this journey with us shall be rewarded too.  The darkness shall fade away forever for all of us one fine day.  Only His light will reign and the darkness shall be no more.  In that day my friend, we will comb the heavens never finding an end to joy for all who believe, for all who hold out for the hope of heaven.  Together we will dwell in the presence of the King of Glory!  Yes, indeed.

Sigh.  That day is not here yet.  What is here is the love of my life holding my comb in the shadow of night.  He lifts me gently into bed and covers me with love that I could never imagine in the past.  He is my Jesus with skin on when I need them both.  I am so blessed.  How could I ask for more?

Off in the distance

Time is right

This is a tough one for me and likely for everyone reading this at some level or another.  Let’s add a Biblical perspective:

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens  (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
    to the one who seeks him;
26 it is good to wait quietly
    for the salvation of the Lord.  (Lamentations 3:25-26)

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.  (Galatians 6:9)

And there is more from my own experience in life.  Waiting on the Lord in the past was where my faith in Him was strengthened.  I remember a time when the crisis was so severe that the Pastor and Elders in my church kept asking me how I was doing with the basics of life:  eating, drinking enough fluids and sleeping.  Yes, they were all a struggle.  By the grace of God and many good sojourners I got through that season of life with sweet victory.  And here I am again in another . . .

March 26th is the day that Steve and I hope everything will start to change for the better.  As written in the potato chip blog, we believe that a dental procedure will vastly reduce if not eliminate the hours of daily convulsive episodes.  Yesterday it was on and off for 24 hours!  You know it’s bad when you see stars and are gasping for air.  Despite nearly a hundred episodes, somehow I read a book while in lying in bed.  It served to protect my mind from dwelling on the wretchedness when I could focus.  I am hoping it preserves a few of the neuronal synapses in my brain from damage.  And focusing despite the pain does carry me through the daytime, the nighttime.  Talking to Jesus a lot is a given . . . .

Thirteen more days and this hell could be over.  In one month will be the 3-year anniversary of when the tics began while thinking I needed to treat a clinical diagnosis of Lyme disease with a fancy Rife machine.  The Beam Ray was a mistake for me.  It has taken 3 long years and many failed attempts at various treatments to figure out what is causing the tazoring of my central nervous system.  Lord willing with removal of the source of what could be “dental galvanism” in my head, I will begin to heal from so much.  And so in my weakness I rest at the throne of grace that delivers me each day unto the next.  Lord willing, I am going to get well.  Off in the distance is the hope of this new beginning for me and my beloved, Stevers.  We are hopeful that His goodness awaits.

Gentle Reader:  Just wait for the shining glory of His light through the words on this page as that day comes.  Are you ready for it?  Brace for impact!  It’s going to be a good day real soon!  Like the old Barbara Streisand song goes, “there ain’t no tellin’ what a satisfied woman can do!”  ;J

Wide-eyed and bushy tailed: Part 2 of 2

So our great adventure really happened:  about 350 miles, 2 cities in Michigan north of us in Indiana, one cooler of drinks-n-foods, and lots of excitement as Steve literally flew through the air!  My beloved thought we were going sailing after multiple gift clues and our plans changing 5 times!  Of course he only know about the date changes . . .

I love you Steve.  So grateful to share your special day with you.  Just Julie

P.S.  I am pooped!  :J