Whatever is true, and noble and right, and pure and admirable? As I contemplate... I am drawn over and over to our magnificent Oak tree. Evidence of God’s majesty, and his excellence... the deep roots, the overarching branches that shelter us. That rugged, rough bark protects this mighty Oak from the outside world, continually renewed from within. It insulates against cold and heat and wards off insects and enemies. Rather than protecting myself from the world, I leave that to God. He is more than rugged, He withstands the test of time, here in the power of Christ I stand.
The story I am most drawn to is the cross-section, the story of the rings. Those rings are noble and right, and pure and admirable. They tell the truth, the stories of abundance and drought, striving and struggles, plagues and plenty, feast and famine, and of growth. They tell a history that is praiseworthy.
What would my cross-section look like? I imagine the last two week’s ring would be marred. Truthfully, I was in excruciating pain on and off throughout the days and restless sleepless nights. I was spent. Come Friday, I had Steve help me take a bath, add some epsom salt, lavender drops, and exhale, desperate for balance. This episode, this gnarly week of struggles, would be none less beautiful. It would tell that we need help, we need rest, we need to take a breath and look up, and I would once again be grateful for my husband who cooked dinner after dinner, did laundry, cared for me, and washed my feet, literally and figuratively.
This past episode would just be a snapshot in time... a hiccup. And that is not the full story. My ALS clinic two weeks ago would tell you a different story. A story of hope. A story of strength, not mine, but God’s healing power. A story of answered prayers. A story of stretches, Chi machines, protein and smoothies, and the story of passion and belief. A story that is not done being written. There are still buds of new ideas, wheelchair garden plans, and visions as I lean into my limitations and possibilities. I lean in with joy and expectation.
This is my cross-section.
Love, Victoria