All Uphill

After 3 weeks of the flu, Asherel recovered long enough to go to the wedding, but is now back in bed with a horrendous cough. We have tried the Vick's vaporub on the feet treatment, which works if you do it while standing upside down on your head in the middle of a snowstorm in July EVERY time, but is not effective this time.
And the blood work on Matt just came back, revealing his 6 months of illness was mono, but he is now recovering. I am glad we were notified of this after he passed the contagion stage, at which point he is back in school. During the contagion stage, of course he was home with us. We have lost all of our winter break to illness, and now our new semester of school is being spent studying how many times you can blow your nose without the tissue disintegrating. That lesson will be sure to be followed by the practical study of why you should empty pockets of tissues before throwing wooly black things in the washer with the tissue-full pants. But I am not complaining. There is still much to be thankful for.
No matter how difficult the uphill battle, there is always someone struggling more. There is almost always a week of health, a place to rest on the exhausting journey. Things can always be worse, and even when they really are worse, they could be worser.

When I was a young adult which I am quite certain was just yesterday and someone snuck into my face and removed all my elastic skin and replaced it with leather imitation..... I used to work at a nursing home as a nurse's aid. This job can be rewarding, but often ranks in desirable jobs with sewer pipe cleaners (and often involves similar tools and conditions). I remember one resident was a very old, very shriveled, very contorted woman, whose gnarled twisted limbs would not allow her to move at all. One of my jobs was to flip her over every so often to help prevent bedsores. She could not speak, hear, see, or move. That removes a lot of options in life. Every Christmas, the nurses would pick a resident's name and be responsible for buying that person a gift The nurse who picked the gnarled lady, Sarah's name, looked woefully at the slip of paper. What on earth do you buy for someone like Sarah?

That year I worked Christmas eve, so I got to see the gift exchange. I was bursting with curiosity when the nurse brought the gift to Sarah. It was a large box. The nurse opened it, talking all the while to Sarah, who of course could not hear a word. Then the nurse pulled out an exquisite, expensive set of pure silk sheets. She rubbed them against Sarah's cheek telling her Merry Christmas. Sarah, who never showed any sign of life, smiled, and nestled her head against the silk sheet.

My life may sometimes seem like it is a long, tortuous uphill walk, but at least my feet are still moving. And when they are not, God wraps Himself around me, a silk sheet of comfort.

"You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy"

Psalm 30:11