Yep, that's right folks...sometimes God sends quiet messages that you have to strain to hear and at other times, he whacks you over the head with a golf club to get your attention.
I had 2 messages of the golf-club variety in the past week.
I had 2 crazy weeks, both at home and at work. I spent 6 months planning a symposium scheduled for May 10th. I panicked about it, had nightmares about it, and obsessed about it. It went off without a hitch, almost. The caterer grossly miscalculated the amount of food and sodas, but the turnout was good and both the boss AND the supervisor were pleased. This is no easy feat, since they have 2 completely different cultural backgrounds, educational backgrounds, personalities and expectations.
Now for the fun part: I literally had one foot out the door to go home after the symposium when my pager went off. It's 4:00pm, I'm been at work since 6:45am and I would have classified myself mentally retarded by this time. Anyway, it's the Ex, but I knew he only would not have paged me on a Saturday if it was important.
FRU fell on her face and I needed to meet him and my father at the emergency room. OK, I flipped the switch from retard to become a clear-headed parent and set off for the ER. I get there just as FRU, Ex and Dad are walking into the exam room to be triaged. FRU is still bleeding from her nose and from a few scraps on her face. We had to x-ray her face (I had to be fitted with a set of leads and stay in the room with her) and by the grace of God, she didn't break her nose or any other facial structure. She was examined by a pediatric dental resident (no damage to permanent teeth) and a pediatrician (who helped slow the bleeding).
My life was in a tailspin. Mommy Radar was on Code Red that whole night. I swear, I heard her every single time she rolled over.
She looked like she went 15 rounds with Mike Tyson there for about a week after but she's fine now.
During this block of time, I had an argument with my mother (when the hell is that gonna end), a guy I was supposed to have coffee didn't call (although I really didn't expect him to for varied reasons I won't get into in this post) and I officially got to the end of my energy reserves. My eyes are bloodshot, I have headaches and I'm doing dopey things like bashing my head against the car while leaning in to strap FRU into her booster seat.
Then, the first of 2 gifts: As I mentioned before, I post on a few message boards and have made friends from all over. Anyway, on one of them, a dear friend started a weekly tradition about raising the spirits of one of the members. I was at the end of my energy and patience and then I read some beautiful words about myself. Words that were written by strong women who love me and respect me. I cried, thanked them and prayed to God that everyone should be given such a gift from their friends. They said that I'm funny, smart, have perseverance, am sassy as hell, and I tell it like it is but do it with class.
Then this morning, I was late getting FRU and myself ready, I forget to put the garbage on the curb for pick-up last night and generally felt like crap. I get to work, open my myspace page and got a message from Kewkie, a dear Ya Ya. She wrote that she had read my blog through and told me I was a great friend and that she was proud of me and the journey I'm on and what I've accomplished in the last 2 years.
2 whacks over the head with a golf club, 2 gifts from the Big Guy Upstairs, just when I needed it most.
OK, God, I get the message...If I pray for patience, I will get something that will test my patience. If I ask for energy and strength, I will get something that will suck the energy and strength out of me. And when I ask to be left alone to rot, people will come out of nowhere to help me lift my spirits.
There really is no greater gift than love, in all its forms...