John Gets His Picture on the Post Office Wall

John is having a new experience - that of having his photo on the Post Office wall. Katherine, our post-mistress, swore to me that she would put it on the Most Wanted Wall, not the FBI Most Wanted wall - a very important distinction. But the Post Office is an important center of information in a town that has no newspaper, in a county that doesn't have a daily newspaper. If you live in town you don't get mail delivery, you have a post office box. When you go to pick up your mail - leaving your car running with the keys in it, of course - you stay a while, talk to folks, and catch up on the news. And get to see John's picture on the wall.

And since he is the world's only perfect man, he's gorgeous.

As of March 18th, he was spending an average of 6 hours a day up in the chair and gaining strength. He can't do anything in a linear fashion, so he had to throw a monkey wrench into things. I came in to see him on Tuesday morning (March 20th), and his left leg was the color of an eggplant. He'd developed a blood clot in a vein. So he was put on anticoagulants and bedrest. He relaxed after I told him that his leg was cool but not cold and he had pulses all the way down it, making this a nuisance but not crisis, and got worked up again when I told him that he'd have to stay in bed for a while. He really likes the chair. The leg looks almost normal now and his pulses are even better, so I hope the chair is in his near future.

In the meantime he's been doing his exercises in bed and the vent weaning is moving right along. Yesterday his trach was changed for a smaller size (which will be more comfortable) and with a disposable inner cannula (easier to keep clean - don't worry if this part makes no sense to you; it's really for the medical folks out there). He's been off antibiotics for a week and is doing fine without them - I think the pneumonia finally bit the dust. It is amazing how much better he looks and feels. Today we watched the UK game together and had a wonderful time. This is the first time in the tournament that he's felt like staying awake and focused for the whole game.  

So when you come to Topeka to see all the sights - both of them - be sure to stop by the Post Office and take a look at John's picture on the wall. He's gorgeous!

Lenon, McCartney, and Lent

For those of you that haven't noticed, I've had just a tad of stress lately. This morning I was in the car on the way to drop something off at church on the way to work on the way to see John for dinner when I heard a song on the radio that made me feel much better - an old Beatles song - Let it Be.

The song is based on the words of the Mother of our Lord to the Archangel Gabriel when she was told about the Child that she would bear: Let it be to me as you have said. The song also makes me think of something St. Silouan said: "The soul that is given over to the will of God fears nothing, neither thunder nor thieves nor any such thing. Whatever may come, 'Such is God's pleasure,' she says. If she falls sick she thinks, 'This means that I need sickness, or God would not have sent it.'"

St. Silouan and the Beatles always help me take a deep breath, get a grip, and put things back in perspective. As I've said here before: God is all-good, all-knowing, and all-powerful, so whatever happens to me is for my eternal good. Not necessarily for my comfort or enjoyment, but what is best for me. We are all like children being taken for vaccinations - we think something terrible is happening to us because it hurts, but it is really a brief discomfort that will save us from much worse things later. (No debates about vaccinations. I remember polio epidemics, and was in the line for the first polio vaccines. I'm old.)

Whatever God sends is what I really need. My head always knows that; my tummy knows it most of the time. It's a bit slow about some things.

Great Lent in the Orthodox Church started at sundown last Sunday. It's a fast period, which for Orthodox means basically eating vegan until Pascha (which falls a week after Western Easter this year). Fasting isn't an onerous burden but a privilege, an opportunity to enter more deeply into Lent and into God, a wonderful spiritual medicine for our souls. So I began the fast with the rest of the Orthodox world. And by this morning I was exhausted. I realized that this year, with the aforesaid stress, I just couldn't do it. It makes me very sad to miss this part of the season. But I realize that this year I need to just do the asceticism - spiritual training and labor - that God has laid on me. And that is enough.

I saw Father Matthew at the church and told him all of this, and he gave me his blessing for not fasting. (Actually, he looked at me like I'd sprouted antennae when I told him I was trying to fast under these circumstances.) (One of the wonderful things about being Orthodox is that you don't have to decide these things on your own or re-invent the wheel - you make these decisions under the guidance of your spiritual father.) (I also think parentheses are wonderful.)

Tonight it's dark and rainy, and the wind is howing outside. It shakes the house so that the dog growls at it. I try not to growl at the winds God sends to shake my life; I know I will be better for the shaking. I can hear Bob Seeger singing about seeking shelter against the wind; I know that I have that Shelter and can be at peace. I can let it be. And know that it is what my soul needs, or God would not have sent it.