Sunday Meditation: Pearls in my Soup

Not a typical week. Highlights:

Meds tweaked. The good, the bad and the ugly: Hot-needle stabbing pain in my feet muffled substantially. Side effects? Yup. I’m weepy. Paranoid. Emotionally erratic. Plus, potassium down. Must take an additional football-sized, chalky-tasting pill each day (total, 3). Yuk.

Anniversary of Dad’s birthday: He died in ’79 at age 59. We weren't close when I was young, but I loved and respected him. Strong silent type: Like John Wayne. Construction worker. Handyman around the house. Eighth-grade education—but smart, wise and talented. Tough for him to have a son who liked poetry, read books and wanted to be a rock ’n’ roll star—but, when he got older, Dad read every story I wrote for The Tampa Tribune. That meant much to me.

Anniversary of Mom’s death: We were much too alike to really like each other, but we had some spectacularly interesting fights. Getting her approval was my Holy Grail, but I managed to disappoint her in every way possible. (I assume in Heaven we’ll get along just fine; I’d like that.)

Wife’s birthday: Love at first sight. She’s still the cutest person I know. Smart, too. That she puts up with me is one of my life's great blessings. Super Mom. Hard worker. Gentle and kind soul. Faithful companion. (Only mistake she ever made was marrying me.)

Plus other stuff . . .

To summarize:  Bumpy-lumpy week, causing me to spend more time in the Bible than usual and much more time in prayer. The verse most helpful: Proverbs 3:5-6 (“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”)

Sometimes ya gotta jump out of the plane and trust your chute will open; it did this week—thank God for that.