Thankful to be home. We came home! Yesterday afternoon it was agreed that we could go home and use our home oxygen equipment while she finishes recovering.
Thankful that this was only a cold. (On the other hand, I’m having to push down thoughts like: “Only a cold? You’ve diagnosed this – oh Nurse with positive hospital test for Rhinovirus in hand – as only a cold? It takes us a four day hospital stay to cope with a cold?!)
Did you know that’s what the common cold is called by the medically educated? Rhinovirus. Live and learn.
Thankful for kind friends who sent meals, as always. Thankful for kind friends who prayed. Thanks for loving us, friends.
So now we’re home and I’m slogging through MOUNTAINS of laundry. I have a secret theory that the moment I leave the house, James and all the children run to their closets and pull out every single thing they own to stuff into the dirty clothes bin at the end of the hallway. Some inner desire to simplify life calls to them. “I’ll be a monk and just wear this one outfit the whole week she’s gone! I don’t need all these other clothes!”
As if to share our joy, our first day back was a marvel of Texas weather. A balmy, windy, dry-leaf-skittery day, and we walked all around the neighborhood with our portable oxygen tank and the two little girls in their stroller with Amos biking at our side. I begin to understand C. S. Lewis’ passion for walking.
“…and by two at the latest I would be on the road. Not, except at rare intervals, with a friend. Walking and talking are two very great pleasures, but it is a mistake to combine them. Our own noise blots out the sounds and silences of the outdoor world; and talking leads almost inevitably to smoking, and then farewell to nature as far as one of our senses is concerned. The only friend to walk with is one (such as I found, during the holidays, in Arthur) who so exactly shares your taste for each mood of the countryside that a glance, a halt, or at most a nudge, is enough to assure us that the pleasure is shared. The return from the walk, and the arrival of tea, should be exactly coincident, and not later than a quarter past four.” – C. S. Lewis, taken from Surprised by Joy
Whispering in the sound of dry, blown leaves and humming along with the stroller tires on pavement is the kindness of the Lord. – Katie
