It’s late on a very cold, snowy, windy night. I have already called out from work tomorrow, as the wind chill is supposed to be in the double digits below zero, schools are all closed, more snow is expected, and it just doesn’t seem like a good idea for me to be out in all of this. If I get too cold I could go into a fibromyalgia flareup, and with the next round of chemotherapy only a couple of days away, that wouldn’t be good.
So tomorrow will be a stay-home-and-rest day, which I need pretty badly anyway. I’ve been really exhausted for the last few days – the kind of exhausted where I fall asleep in the middle of texting my sister and somehow send her a completely incoherent text that says something like “I just got home frrrrrosnffoanfg.”
Strangely and sadly, I have recently found out that a good friend has a brain tumor. It’s benign, thank God, but still needs surgery. Once again, I think how easy I have it – I can’t imagine having someone doing surgery on my brain, on a tumor sitting perilously near the optic nerve and two arteries. But he has a great attitude and is always cheerful and positive. I’ll keep him in my prayers along with the many others who have so much to deal with – like my sweet niece’s college-aged friend who was just diagnosed with stage four cancer.
Tomorrow, all I’m going to deal with is some hot chocolate, what’s on the DVR, some reading, some writing, and maybe a nap. Right now I don’t think I have it so bad at all.
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. (Psalm 46:1-3)
Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe. I long to dwell in your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of your wings. (Psalm 61:1-4)