After all the accolades my previous post received, I was thinking maybe I should sign off for good, end on a high note, and quit while the getting is good. How do I follow that act? Funny enough, as I was writing about my Christmas Day 10 years ago, it didn’t feel like anything special. I mean, I enjoyed the walk down memory lane (mostly because I’m not in that place anymore), but I didn’t think it was earth shattering or groundbreaking. I’ve written about my need for meds many times before — though based on the number of messages and replies I received from people, this post clearly landed in a place people could relate to. Or they know me in this different life and couldn’t imagine that I hadn’t always been this way.
Maybe I spelled it out in a way that people finally understood how cuckoo I really was. I guess you can say you need an SSRI to function normally, but until you admit that you called your husband and begged him to turn around and come home when he was on the way to take your child to an appointment with a surgical specialist people can’t imagine you were actually that sick. Yeah, I really did that. Josh told me I was being ridiculous, hung up, and kept driving. Meanwhile, I tried not to hyperventilate as I counted down the minutes it would take for him to drive to Loma Linda (90), account for how long the appointment should take, and then home again. I had decided against going to the appointment with them because I couldn’t travel that far from the house without panicking, but after he left I started second guessing my choice. I should write a post some day about all the hoops I jumped through to keep from feeling anxious. It would sound truly crazy to someone who doesn’t struggle with anxiety. (Like taking a 2 day Amtrak train trip by myself to avoid a 3.5 hour flight. Yep. For reals.)
I’m so glad that my post did get such a positive response, but it still surprises me and feels unreal. It’s almost miraculous that stringing a few letters together can have so much meaning. I guess that’s why I like writing. It’s an art form that uses letters to paint pictures. A few are the focal point of the gallery, some are frame worthy, and others are the type to be hung on my mom’s refrigerator door. Creating a pile of posts that are only good enough to hang on a refrigerator is all part of practicing my art form. As long as I keep writing, I’m bound to produce a few gems every now and then . . . hopefully.
In addition to not knowing what to post next, I’ve been busy with Christmas this week. Unlike last year, when we spent Christmas day hiking in the snow in Cappacocia, Turkey, this year wasn’t exotic at all. We shared a Christmas Eve dinner with friends and then went to church for a carol service. In between each song, people from the congregation read passages from the Bible relating to Christmas (both prophecy and the Nativity story), but they each read them in their native languages. French, Afrikaans, Hindi, Tagalog, a language from an African nation, etc. (OK, so maybe that was a bit exotic). It was a reminder that we are privileged to worship God with Christians from all over the world.
Christmas Day we slept in, the kids opened a few presents that family had sent and we went to base for Christmas dinner (no cooking required!) While there I grabbed a few things to put in the kids’ stockings (I’m a failure at all the regular Christmas traditions. Can you imagine if I had to move an Elf every night?!) that I hadn’t filled yet and then we went and had a potluck dinner with another group of friends. I’m thankful that we are part of a great community of friends from church, our Home Group, and base. We are content and at peace which is the best gift we could possibly ask for.
This coming week Josh has (a much needed) vacation and I predict lots of sleeping in and lounging around the house. Or maybe that’s just my idea of a great vacation . . .