Oh, Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be.
Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day;
Monday, Monday, it just turns out that way… Monday, Monday by The Mammas & The Pappas.
What a way to start the week – in the Emergency Room.
Thad was two weeks out from his shoulder surgery and he was doing well. On Sunday he began to have rectal bleeding. Not just a little but more like what women with fibroids experience – only this was from the other end. Monday morning brought more blood and general weakness and malaise. We realized a visit to the ER was in his imminent future. But like a woman having gone into labor, he insisted on a shower and a shave. Who says men aren’t high maintenance? Once done, I sat him in his recliner and made him promise not to move while I fed and walked the dogs. Not knowing how long we would be at the hospital, I knew they would need a good long walk. The course I chose is a 1/2 mile in length – 4 streets – 4 corners.
On our street I was lost in thinking of the day ahead: the appointments I would cancel, a project moved to another day, what I thought might happened, what I could expect, what I would need to do, how would I do it – those kinds of things. Then I realized I was thinking about how it all affected me. What about Thad?
As I turned the corner and began walking the next street, I began to think about what Thad must be feeling. He was sitting all alone in the house, passing blood and clots. He must be fraught with fear. How much blood could he lose without passing out? What other issues could occur as a result of the loss of blood? This could be happening right now, while he was alone and I was walking the dogs! How could I have left him alone? Knowledge running amuck is dangerous. What kind of a wife was I? Fear frantically fomented my thoughts and body and I began to pick up the pace. I needed to get home!
The next corner brought me to a street where my dog Sheba has a black schnauzer that is the love of her life. He feels the same about her. Marco always manages to have his owners let him out in the back yard where he waits for the one he loves. Sheba after all is a beautiful dog – and it’s not just because she’s mine. Okay, maybe I am a little biased. He waits and looks forward to their “visit” between worn and torn fence slats. This morning was no different. Sheba ran ahead to great him, tail up and wagging. Each made joyful whining sounds as they shared their special bond and friendship.
When I caught up and passed his fence, I had to call after Sheba to get her to end her visit. Sheba, Come!” I said sternly. With regret she left Marco and came bounding up in sheer celebration of her time spent with him. Sheba shot passed me to see what the rest of her day would bring, recharged and renewed having shared some special moments with the one who loved her.
It was in watching this love between two dogs that I realized Thad and I were so caught up in the doing, preparing and anticipating that we forgot to spend time this morning with the One who waits for us to come to Him for rest, renewal and recharging. God delights in the “type A, neurotic, Martha I am and in Thad’s calm, maddeningly methodical thought processes. He waits and even meets us everywhere and anywhere – a bathroom, a recliner, and a hospital or even by a broken garden fence. Do I run to God with excited expectation and joyous celebration of time spent with Him? Do I cherish His words, trust in His ways, and know that His love and guidance will spring me forward and through whatever is in my future? I can run to Him and ask Him for help, knowing that with God in my life, fear turns into courage, and worry into peace. Worry replaced by prayer and time with God equals trust that all will be well.
The last corner had me once again on my street heading for home and to Thad. The situation had not changed but I had. God had shown me through the love of two dogs, that His love for Thad and I would see us through yet another Monday, Monday.
I Peter 5:7 Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares for you. NLT