Doors

What is it with doors? We use them to enter or exit. I'm a little tired of doors right now. I guess sometimes they are a protection...sometimes they give us a choice...sometimes they present a mystery.

Last week was a LOOOONNNNNGGGG week. Weak. Yes, that is how I felt. I'm so glad my God is strong. I felt like I was in the hammock of His pocket. I did not balance my time well the first part of the week. By my day off I was wasted. I have to own the choices I made with my time. I was spoiled by a very gracious husband. He was my knight in shining armor...and he was still willing to "muck out the stalls." He opened doors for me...even the car door, coming around to open my car door when I was in the passenger seat. I liked that. I miss that.

I took my son to sign up for baseball. As I approached the door a dad person held the door for the boys with him and then promptly let the door go--right in front of me. Ick. I'm practicing "choose not to be offended." (with appreciation to Bonnie Floyd) The men and women inside blessed my socks off with their kindness and helpfulness in a process I am just getting used to. I hate the forms: (failed twice trying to fill it out on line and then had to repeat it there.) The lines that say: Father's name....you know the rest. I want to write Michael's name in big bold letters, but then they would want to know his cell phone number.

After spending large portions of the day in bed Wed. and Thurs., I went to make some lunch and the fridge door FELL OFF. Spare the details and bless Larry W. who came to scope out the situation and fix it that evening after I rounded up the part. Is the part AVAILABLE for a mere 10yr old U.S. made product??? (no) I went to my McGyver kind of neighbor to see if he knew of any parts places that may have a secret stash of this part and over the next 4 hours he actually FABRICATED a piece that seems to be even better than the one that was on there. I'll keep hunting for the part--just in case. Let me know if you are a sleuth and I'll get you all the part numbers!!! (Okay...and it's a Sears Kenmore).

The next door was Friday. The garage. Who needs a garage door anyway? I would not mind helping someone FIX the garage door...but I hate calling companies and scheduling estimates...and figuring out which door is the best thickness and how titanium ball bearings are better and parts that will last for a lifetime. Hmmmm.

Parts that last a lifetime. Now there's a thought. While my gracious neighbor was back and forth to my house fabricating this door support, I took my drained self to an appointment with Michael's doctor. She spent an hour with me. Michael appreciated her care of him. I needed to tell her that. I shared with her how I believe in God's sovereignty. But, I needed to know some technical medical stuff...call it morbid...it helps with my healing...and may help me help others some day. I don't really struggle with "what ifs." I see more stepping stones towards other doors: Encourage people with high blood pressure to do their best with diet and exercise therapy. Keep up on regular check-ups. Know EVERY sign of a heart attack. Know the Jesus of the Bible. Get life insurance. Build quality relationships. I know there are more 'doors'...the titles will come.

I need new panels on my garage door. The strength of the metal was compromised. I'm thankful God doesn't compromise with His care. My heart is heavy for friends who are hurting. I feel the frustrations of single moms...even though they can tell me I don't know the half of it yet. I'm thankful I can hammer a nail. Praying for John and Carol, D. and A. G., T.M., Elise's daughter, lost jobs, other widows...can we just skip February 14th?

Like in entries past, my thoughts are scattering. I have other pieces to enter...but trying to get well and prepare to be away at a conference I look forward to all year will keep me from writing for a bit. I was so grateful for all the hugs at church today...and 'the garage door guys.'

I have to face the bedroom door. Do you have 'stuck' doors...or broken doors??

Annie B.