My mind can’t concentrate. I feel very blah, blank even. So even though my thoughts seem to be in a fog, and I can’t see a light in the tunnel (or even where the end of the tunnel is), I know God is with me. I feel like I am groping in the dark but still have God’s presence with me. Past experiences, past knowledge and truly knowing God tells me this. God is still near me. I, for whatever reason, can’t rely on my today feelings. I don’t need to dig deep, to push through, to be positive, to try harder. To do it in my human effort. No.…

The nurse called out a name. No one moved. The name was called out a bit louder and there was movement to my left side. A gentleman stood up and stated to the nurse that it was ‘this lady here’ but she was hard of hearing. I turned to see an elderly lady in her dressing gown, sitting in a wheelchair. The nurse came over pushing a blood pressure machine on wheels. After taking the lady’s blood pressure the nurse went back into rooms on the other side of the sliding door. A very chesty cough could be heard over to my right, behind a barricade. The few people sitting…

The new building’s roof was painted. The walls also. But the floor…… it needed pressure hose spraying to get it clean. Many hands got to work and after three long days the work was completed. I had gone along a few times to see what I could do. The pressure hose seemed to be too powerful in its vibrations for my damaged muscles (due to some ongoing past injuries.) So, what could I do? I made coffees. I got out the broom and swept the extra water down the drain as it built up in the room. It made me feel useful. I was participating as much as I could.…

The little 2-year-old climbed the stairs carefully up to the enclosed trampoline. As she reached the top Abigail turned to look to see if I was watching her. I called out, “Be careful. Watch where you are walking.” She laughed and then started to bounce up and down with delight, her golden curly hair blowing in the wind. Along comes her big brother. He is four. Emmett is a bundle of energy waiting to burst out into any activity where he can use it. I laugh as I watch because He does not use the stairs. He runs at the trampoline full pelt, dives for the handle holds and swings…

I’m scraping the barrel. And it’s not a tub of chocolate sauce. It’s a container full of lack of sleep, no energy, of trying to get all the tasks done, of under the pump, no time to spare. Sometimes you want to get off the treadmill of life and stop awhile. When you had the time to stop you did not feel well enough to appreciate what you had, and things just passed you by. I’m claiming covid brain cause I can’t even remember what I did for 8 days previously. Now all deadlines have come back with a vengeance. I’m holding up my hand. I’m taking a deep calming…