November 13 – “Counting Underwear”

We didn't go to the house this morning.  I had a neurologist appointment in Houston for my lower back pain.  I've been ignoring it for about two months now, but Chris wouldn't let me skip this one.  Mainly because of my numb big toe.  Struck down because of a great toe.  How the mighty (in their heads) have fallen.  He told me I had two different problems.  One was arthritis-related.  Two parts of my lumbar spine have narrowed to about half of what the opening should be.  And just below those culprits is the real stinker.  Another bulging disc.  It was bulging some three months ago when they did the MRI, but it has apparently been aggravated by some manual labor that's been going on.  Funny, so have I.  The bulge has finally reached the nerve that controls feeling in my big toe.  I just knew he was going to say surgery again.  I was all ready to whine.  But not yet.  He changed a medication.  He told me to use a heating pad.  No, we don't have one of those any more, either.  And I guess the unspoken prescription was, "Don't be stupid."  Never have been very good at following that one.  I think maybe working on the house is excluded.    We finally heard from our windstorm adjuster.  He emailed us a copy of the report he sent in.  Looks like he recommended a new roof and a new back fence.  Also seems to cover some of the ceiling sheetrock, but not all of it.  And here's an interesting tidbit.  They hold back some of the money until you show them proof that the work is actually taking place.  I guess they expect you to lie.  Hmmm.  I wonder what it would be like if God held back his blessings – or even salvation -  until we showed him proof that we were serious about living as Christians.  Hmmm is right.   Chris is at her Mom's to take her to another doctor's appointment.  She comes back tomorrow, then goes back again Sunday for a different doc on Monday.  Does this mean we're getting back to normal?  I even took my own Mom to Luby's for supper.  But isn't that what we're supposed to do on Fridays?   My job over the next few days (has to be in by Sunday) is to construct a list of what we lost to the flood, how old it was, and what the replacement cost would be.  I'm having to walk through our house all over again as if everything was still there, and write it all down.  Have you ever tried to count the things in your underwear drawer when you couldn't open the drawer?  How many pairs of socks do you have?  And camp t-shirt from 30+ years of youth camp.  It's an eerie, Twilight Zone kind of feeling.  I found myself closing my eyes, holding out my hand and pointing at things that are no longer there in a room that isn't even there.  Reminded me again that these things are just things – just stuff.    Revelation 19:6-7 says, "Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting: 'Hallelujah!                             For our Lord God Almighty reigns. 7 Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready.'"   Father, I want to be able to close my eyes and point to the things that are waiting for me in heaven – my real home.  Family.  Friends.  You.  Amen.