Part Twenty-One: Off the Shelf

Tuesday night, lying in bed exhausted me.

            Wednesday afternoon, the simplest instructions confused me.

            Thursday evening, I was a little less exhausted and a lot less confused.

            Friday night, I realized that during the course of the day I had four phone conversations of over fifteen minutes each—something I had not had the energy to do the day before.

            And Saturday—today—I am doing a load of laundry.  How’s that for progress?  Maybe by tomorrow I will have the energy to start reading a book.

            And still, and yet, I do not feel like I have been put on the shelf. 

True, I’d rather be healthy and full of vigor, being with people, serving at church and The Journey Home, spending time with my grandchildren.  But let’s be honest.  It’s been twenty years since I was healthy and full of vigor.  I’ve had oodles of practice at living a quieter, gentler pace.  I’m well acquainted with prioritizing my activities.  For instance, I didn’t do things that caused delayed pain unless they were things I really wanted to do.  Hence, wrinkled were my clothes and dusty was my house.  But I sat on the floor with my grandkids and held the baby.  And played my flute and wrote at the computer. 

I’ve had to stop just about everything for a while here, including grandchildren time and flute time.  But the key words are “for a season.”  Sometime soon, my white blood count will rise.  Next year at this time I will be a cancer survivor instead of a cancer patient.  In the meantime, when my life pace slows to the basics--eat, drink, rest, sleep--I still have the joy of writing.  Yes, it takes quite a bit of energy.  But I feel it is energy spent wisely because writing refreshes me and brings encouragement to others. 

Now—you might have guessed it—naptime beckons.  But I’m still off the shelf.