Here’s what I know this wind whipping, snow dancing winter night. When pain stops you in your tracks and takes away your productivity, it can make you feel panicky.
I felt the nagging ache in my left shoulder a few months ago and ignored it. It amped up its annoyance the more I worked out, but what’s a girl to do when her daughter’s wedding is 4 months away and some of that flab around the midsection, it’s just gotta go.
Then, I woke up one morning and thought I was delivering a baby in my left shoulder. Seriously.
Try as I might with wedges and pain killers and ice packs and physical therapy, I just can’t make it stop.

I find myself threat forecasting again….
What if I can’t get on top of this before Spring?
How will I pull off all the preparations for Robyn’s dream wedding reception in our back yard?

And honestly, I don’t have until spring to be derailed.
More pressing questions include, how am I going to fix dinner tonight?
And do dishes?
And laundry?
And vacuum my floors?
Who’s going to drive my kid everywhere?
And how exactly do I wash my hair?

Usually, pain slinks around illusively and you wonder if it’ll be like the house guest who never leaves. But then again, here I am at 53 years old and every single physical issue I’ve struggled with eventually righted itself, so the odds are in my favor as is God’s supreme human anatomical design.

My counselor told me how he got the flu over New Years and was flat in bed for 10 days. He’d made other plans, a long to-do list with some days off work. He said he was grateful for his sickness. God knew he needed to rest and his Father chose what that rest should look like.
I needed to hear that story because it helps me to center in the storm of my own malaise.
What if this infirmity is my invitation to just walk with God more open handedly?
To rely on others to help me because I need to even if I don’t want to.
Maybe, it’s time to be reminded of how dependent I actually am on my Father’s help and presence to get me through each day.
To reconnect with Him in new ways.
Maybe I don’t get to know anything about anything.
Maybe I just need a reset—physically and spiritually.

It’s 6 weeks into a new year.
Mine started with a vacation. Sunshine. Hiking. Some drama-free moments I desperately needed but honestly, my daughter and I, we rubbed. It’s mostly growing pains but it still a bummer.

Then I came home and started a diet and exercise program because those mother of the bride photos, they go in the archives and that’s a lot of pressure.

One of my best buds flew up to visit me. She lives down south so I told her, “No need to bring boots or gloves or a coat or hats. You can wear mine. And for that matter, if you really want to travel light, you can borrow my bras and underwear too.” She’s that kind of friend. We spent almost 4 days together talking fast because there are more words than there is time. After we finished our Leslie Sansone total body fitness walking workout, she said she needed to send a picture of a snow angel to her baby girl and we were hot and sweaty so we opted for a pretty creative cool down routine. I kid you not. Two fifty- something women, mothers of 13 to be exact, crafted a couple of pretty sweet snow angels in our workout shorts and all I can say is, if you can, find yourself that kind of friend.

Wedding planning is down to double digits and even though the guest list is small, you still have to tick off the same checklist and work through the same negotiations to get the job done. And that’s been– an adventure…..

I started a new volunteer job for a ministry I believe in and it’s exciting to be actively supporting its purposes. I love my relationships with refugees and consider it a privilege to support them through their immigration process. I’m inspired by the young adult women in our church that I get to mentor. And, I even help out in my baby’s homeschool co-op. My husband, he’s always resourced me to serve generously and I’m super grateful.

So, here I am staring down Valentine’s Day convalescing between my bed and my chair. In “the good old days”, we did this holiday big, with super fun family traditions we called Family Love Days. We’d pick names out of a hat for secret admirers and lavish each other with love on the sly until our big reveal on Valentine’s Day. We’d celebrate God’s lavish affection for us with friends parties and heart shaped cookies and cupcakes.

I miss all that.
So very much.
Love notes days are long gone.
Most days, I’m not even sure if my family likes me.
It’s an ache, the emotional equivalent of that uncomfortable rub in my shoulder except for when it flares to a frowny face with tears on the pain scale and you wonder if it’s going to improve or how you’ll make it through.
But somehow you will and you do.

There’ve been a lot of gray days this winter. I can hear it in these words.
Need me some Vitamin D, big time!
And the Truth.
That heavy, old, hard cover, Thompson Chain Reference Bible my mom and dad gave me when I was a teenager,
and my Bible apps,
and daily prayer liturgies,
the sermons,
my hymns and anthems playlist on Spotify,
prayer walks
and a faithful friend or two who listen to all my junk.
All of it reminds me of the Truth.
Everything God says and does is loving and good and everything He allows in my life holds redemptive potential.
Yeah, I’m feeling the burn of a Michigan winter—physically, emotionally and spiritually.
But it’s a good burn. Nowhere else I’d rather be.
And, Punxsutawney Phil predicts an early spring so that’s a mercy to anticipate.
You know,  just being my Daddy’s kid, resting in His strong and tender arms, that’s todays fresh mercy.
And it’s enough.