The Healing Game
I just put on a pair of pants. Woo-hoo! I'm going off to work today for a little while. Now, mind you, it's against my nurse's orders, but not necessarily against my docs.
I don't know for sure because I'm afraid to ask him.
Yet I'm playing it smart, folks because I'm healing.
When the body breaks down, even for a little while, there is certainly a rebirth in the fact that it builds back up. Don't you feel great when the cold breaks up and you start eating food again, mere days after the time when the idea of food repulsed you?
The swelling has gone down. There is more mobility in the leg to be sure, but the pain has not yet left the building. That will come, though, and to be honest I've grown used to it a litle. We've become buddies.
Yet healing isn't confined to the physical being of a person. I've been down for a few days now and the mental drain of living also takes some getting used to. The rest has helped me there as well.
For two years the God-Clifford relationship has sort of been on the backburner. It's like those moments when you don't really want to talk to your spouse, but they're there, and you keep it cordial so that you can get to the next day without it blowing up in your face.
(I've been told some people live that way...not here in Camelot).
Lately, however, God and I have been chatting a bit more. I'm not tapping my chest and pointing skyward yet, but together we are sorting through our baggage.
Life is simply a work in progress.
The break down, the build back up. The falling and then the standing up again. The toss from the horse and the crawl to pick up the saddle.
I have pants on.
Little bit at a time.
Steady.
Steady.
Already dreaming about the bag of ice.
I don't know for sure because I'm afraid to ask him.
Yet I'm playing it smart, folks because I'm healing.
When the body breaks down, even for a little while, there is certainly a rebirth in the fact that it builds back up. Don't you feel great when the cold breaks up and you start eating food again, mere days after the time when the idea of food repulsed you?
The swelling has gone down. There is more mobility in the leg to be sure, but the pain has not yet left the building. That will come, though, and to be honest I've grown used to it a litle. We've become buddies.
Yet healing isn't confined to the physical being of a person. I've been down for a few days now and the mental drain of living also takes some getting used to. The rest has helped me there as well.
For two years the God-Clifford relationship has sort of been on the backburner. It's like those moments when you don't really want to talk to your spouse, but they're there, and you keep it cordial so that you can get to the next day without it blowing up in your face.
(I've been told some people live that way...not here in Camelot).
Lately, however, God and I have been chatting a bit more. I'm not tapping my chest and pointing skyward yet, but together we are sorting through our baggage.
Life is simply a work in progress.
The break down, the build back up. The falling and then the standing up again. The toss from the horse and the crawl to pick up the saddle.
I have pants on.
Little bit at a time.
Steady.
Steady.
Already dreaming about the bag of ice.
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