This Classical Life

Tomorrow is my long awaited appointment with the rheumatologist. I’m not sure how to feel. Chronic pain and constant fatigue has done a number on me this fall, on our whole family. I can’t remember what it’s like to wake up feeling good. We haven’t had anyone over since August. The house is a mess. The girls watch more television than ever before. But this seems so normal now. In this fallen world, with its troubles and pains, mine seem somewhat insignificant. It’s hard to even hope that things could change. I remember Abraham, and his hope against hope. I pray those three words I seem to pray more often than any others. “Help my unbelief.” And I try to remember that God cares for me.

We had a wonderful thanksgiving with food and family, the girls had such a marvelous time Kate asked if she could stay a little longer and have her grandparents drive her home later. In somber tones we heard “I miss my grandmother and grandfather” for several days afterwards. My parents took us and the siblings, etc. to hear Rob Bell on Thanksgiving Eve and he did not disappoint. I recommend going to hear him if you have the chance.

Praise God, we’ve passed the 36 hour mark of being rid of the sickies and Michael was spared.

The female members of our family are all stricken down with a stomach virus that manifested itself the second we stepped through the door after church (literally.) Of course, the stomach virus is a dread of every parent, but it does have its sweet spots of cute requests and cuddling in the bed. We await the return of wonder-dad, who will come bearing liquids with electrolytes and we will pray that we avoid the dreaded trip to the ER.