We
did a FaceTime with Josh yesterday. His
family was up to their elbows in making gingerbread houses. AnnaGrace bypassed all the building part and
went straight to eating. She left the
building to her Daddy. Luke was intense
in his sculpture, however. We watched as
he was carefully adding what he explained were reindeer on the roof of his
house. Zak was squeezing the last of the
“snow” (white icing) … into his mouth. Caleb was already getting a head start on the
sugar rush.
As
a result, the call was nothing less than wild and crazy. All that sugar exploded into quite animated
tales of Christmas coming and great school accomplishments and Christmas coming
and performances in church events and Christmas coming. We heard Caleb play the piano and then sing
Christmas carols … in Latin. I guess he
was playing the piano in Latin, too, but it sure sounded like Jingle
Bells. Oh, and there was something about
Zak and girls. Lots of girls. A veritable fan club.
I
went one full day and night without any pain meds. It made for a really rough few hours in bed. Now I’m working on finding the right
balance. Last night’s experience was
just strange. Just as I was dozing off,
it felt like a tiny little alien with a laser gun was randomly shooting inside
my knee. The jolt woke me up and
continued until I finally gave in and took some medicine. After about an hour the pain part settled
down. Without that intensity in my knee,
I began to notice that the little alien guy was actually driving around my
nervous system in his little internal rocket ship and firing off at irregular
intervals in different spots all over my body.
It was like electrical impulses causing miniature muscle cramps that
lasted but a few seconds before he floated away to some other realm. The knowledge that he was no longer targeting
just my bionic knee was strangely comforting, and I managed to fall asleep for
a few hours. That was nice. So now on to teach my first sermon in three
weeks. Hmm. Wish I could remember those Latin carols …
Psalms
119:116 says, “Sustain me according to
your promise, and I will live; do not let my hopes be dashed.”
Father,
thank you for gingerbread houses and sugar rushes and wild and crazy FaceTime
calls with grandkids. Amen.
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