It never fails- you're in your finest Sunday best; shoes, dress, frills, ribbons- even hat; a regular retro-Easter parade in the making! The sun is shining, the air crisp and not a cloud in the sky. You have planned for weeks for this moment and your skin is clear while flushed with a hint of excitement and in just a few moments you'll have this solemn occasion frozen in time with the help of an experienced, albeit weary photographer, an antique white bench and a hand-made basket filled with colors and wonders of the season. What could go wrong?
Your relatives are looking on with pride and enthusiasm as the last grandchild has his photo taken for the family affair and as your turn has arrived you begin to make your way toward the spot where the lasting memory will take place. Walking toward the beautiful, white bench with delicate designs carved into the old wood, you are careful to brush against nothing; cautious that you not walk on or through object, soil or debris as to protect the image that you so carefully and painstakingly created that day.
With the ease and grace of a noble-woman you set carefully upon the bench in what could be described as photogenic dignity. At first both gloved hands are resting around the top of the basket and you opt to place on flat on the bench seat beside you for a more 'natural' look and at the exact moment you present the perfect smile that has had more practice than you care to admit- you feel that something is wrong. Um- do you remain still, as if all is fine? Do you startle the photographer who has already earned every penny of his fee today and then some? And just as you think you have time to inspect and discover the cause of your unrest... the man behind the camera says "Hold it" and click. Of course your face does not have a smile on it at that point. But a memory has definitely been created; for good or bad. As the remainder of your family who witnesses the entire scene gather about the man and request a re-take, (or as a third-cousin is shouting over and over, "Do over! Do over!), you can hear the frazzled photographer explaining from where you are still sitting that that, unfortunately, was his last shot without having to return to his office and return. You would like to blame him but how can you? He never planned to photograph such a large group and simply didn't bring enough film with him.
As you gather your wits about you (and hopefully some composer) and try to pretend that you are not bothered by what just happened and attempt to put everyone else's minds at rest; you know that deep down you not only regret what just occurred but wonder as well if you'll ever live this down.
And now- we wait...
We are counting the days down until the final products are finished and delivered.
The day arrives when each household receives their pre-ordered portrait packages of the event and with nervous and apprehensive fingers you pull the sticky tab back to open the large mailing envelope to spill out its contents on the dining table. At first its such a dazzling sight that for a moment you forget the impending doom that is about to beset you. Photographs of parents and children, aunts and uncles, family scenes and individual themes- all bright and colorful and the perfect reflection of the days festivities.
Then you see it. How could you miss it? Large, bright and just as rich as the shots that preceded it. It's you. Your photo; and there you are- sitting on that pretty little bench; dressed to beat the band and the photographer, thinking you were going to retain the pose for posterity... not realizing there was a problem; snapped the shot at the exact moment that you brought your hand up off of the bench- bringing the stringing, warm, blue gum all the way from the seat to mid-air; grimacing all the way in shock, distaste and embarrassment. Lord- don't you just love little boys!
What do you know? I guess nothing is perfect and I was sure that at least something in life had to be! But evidently even the best laid plans can fall through the ceiling and apparently what should be the simplest, hitch-free activity can turn into a sticky, blue, gooey mess!
That is how I felt this week... in theory that is [LOL]. When you think that all is good; all is well; got a handle on most of it and you discover that all is not good, not well and if you did have a handle on it, it broke off and is laying on the floor somewhere- probably rolled and is under something- hiding. Darn handle!
I'm not going to go into details or elaborate on the particulars of the bomb that exploded in my lap this week- in the form of one of life's (little) catastrophes. Suffice to say that when the dust settled and the damage report complete and in- I had not gained a victory. And- with the entrance of this new dilemma came total body breakdown for 'me' as a result of the stress the situation brought about. In addition to the 'physical' side that I began to deal with ... the new stuff, or bigger/more painful stuff (whatever) I felt like I was in a tunnel or under a bridge. Sight limited to what is in front of me and shoulders sagging under the pressure and strain of the additional weights that came with the newly arrived stress (stress is never underweight either- sitting atop the shoulders;;; where is the help or break supposed to come from.=?
No. I'm still not back to where I was prior to this- uh, problem.... but- I'm better than a few days ago!
I want to share something special, sweet... wonderful. [LOL] Yup- even with the household turned upside down and questions still in the air- something nice happened.
As I was suffocating under the strain of the current issues and trying to gain my bearings I was able to post a request for prayer on the pain forum I belong to. Again- I didn't give details but simply that I needed prayer specific to making decisions concerning a disaster at hand; that I needed guidance and a direction; that I was empty of all of the above. My body was turning the stress into pure pain and tearing my body even more than usual. I kept trying to 'calm' my own self but nothing was working.
Then it happened. I was hit by an idea- actually dropped in my head, as if from nowhere. A solution; a plan- a possibility. The idea was really a good one and one I (obviously) hadn't come up with previously. As quick as the concept came to me, I simultaneously thought to myself, "The sisters have prayed- and God has answered." As a result of the issues, I had felt like I was heading through a tunnel. Darkness all around and the confined space pressing me down. When the guidance I needed came to me- it was like a light; bright and surrounding me; enveloping me and the heaviness gone in the same moment.
Now- it will take some time for my family to follow through with the guidelines and the new project but will not only be doable- but make life in my family/household better than before the dam busted. Isn't God good? Isn't God wonderful? And isn't prayer... um- terrific? [wink]
So, life turned upside down but God is in the process of spinning it back into place. When life hands you a lemon... don't waste time making lemon-aid. Leave the beverage making to someone else. Pray- seek God- he is faithful to answer. Thank you God. Thank you. He is El Shaddai, the God who is more, MORE than enough!
Luv & Prayers,
Joy
We have all been in those tunnels, those places that render us temporarily blind...not about to see any answer to our dilemma's...but God made mountains passable and if not over or around then through, that's your tunnel, your lifeline, your capability to see the light and resolve the issue by going through the darkness of the tunnel, and finding victory at the end...
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