So today my friend whose mother found a lump in her breast found out that it was nothing of which to be afraid. No need to be scared. No need to think of the things that are looming just outside our daily thoughts. We really had prayed that her mother wouldn’t have cancer and we got an answer….even a yes.
Not that long ago, we were praying the same thing about my dad. Praying that the things in his body that were not normal were also not going to kill him. I remember the relief.
[I’ve written a few lines here that are commentary about why the fear exists and what I do or do not have my mind wrapped around yet, but I’ve erased them all because they are so revealing, or maybe because they are so trite. Either way, you don’t get to read them and I will turn from thinking about this good news in a sad way, to other news. “No more introspection! Give us what we want!”]
Jud signed up for classes again…looks like we’re staying just a bit longer. Every day one of us makes a comment about loathing Texas and missing our Omaha people. We know the grass is always greener. We know things will never be like they were last year. We know many of our friends are moving (some even to Dallas soon….yeah!), but we miss CBC so much that sometimes it feels like it might just swallow us up.
I’ve never ached for anything so much in my whole life. I knew it once before, when we were in Germany and attending the strangest little church where we had to sing As the Dear every week (put a bullet in my head); when my brother, a kid named Bo and I made up the entire youth group; when we had to sing every verse of Christmas carols by the light of a few candles while squinting at the hymnals. They were awkward days; awkward youth events; awkward pot lucks. But we all had each other and we had a good pastor who loved his people and things ran pretty smoothly.
The answer to the church question is still alluding us.
To fill this giant hole in our pathetic little hearts, we decided to buy 8×10 feet of this….
(I would have inserted a picture here but blogger is having some sort of serious picture loading malfunction. It almost frustrates me enough to want to pay for my own site. But then I wouldn’t have money to spend on rugs and carpets!)
It comes on Friday all the way from Chicago and then Jud will go and pick it up. Don’t worry, he measured the car to make sure we will not have similar ridiculousness as the chair debacle of Saturday last.
We are so excited about our latest addition that we even bought a little pad for it to sleep on, but not from Crate & Barrel because that place really sticks it to you. I’m sure that the small Southeast Asian children forced to make our rug are going to get like five cents each for making our beautiful floor covering, while some American man in New York City sits on a gold barrel with his feet resting on a platinum crate as he laughs himself into oblivion at our frivolous purchase. He doesn’t understand that we need to have a place for families with small children to allow their children to play and sit and enjoy their toys that isn’t dusty and hard. He feels no sympathy for the poor children who must play on hard surfaces and he feels no guilt for making the poor children in foreign countries weave until their little nubs bleed. What? Not handmade? Well, at least you can be sure that there’s a white man laughing over our purchases somewhere.
