Mustard Seeds, Grace and Other Ramblings 10/7/10

It seems that I wake up at some point during the 4 o'clock hour every morning these days. It's frustrating, because I'm drained by the time I drag myself home every evening, yet it happens day after day. So here I am, whether I want to be or not. Oh, the irony of that last statement just hit me: I'm here whether or not I want to be. Inglorious story of my current life.

Yesterday brought with it a few little mustard seed sized (thanks to Kimber for the visual) blessings I'd be remiss if I didn't share. First off, as I'd already noted in a status update, I passed my glucose test. I had no real reason (other than our horrendous 'luck' of late) to believe that I'd fail, but the thought lingered in the back of my mind until I retrieved Monday's voicemail from my doctor's assistant and discovered that I'd passed with a respectable 110. I also have to say, as a sidenote, that I've been pleased with how my OB's office has handled me lately. She called without my asking to share the results even though I passed, and they've been very apologetic every time they've had to reschedule my appointment.

Secondly, we're on the verge of signing a lease with new renters. Their credit report looked really, really scary when I checked it out, but our agent chatted with their current landlord yesterday, who deemed them a good risk, so we're going to move forward. And as a little bonus, so to speak, they want a two-year lease. So at least we won't have to worry about it being vacant for a long while. I'm not going to exhale until we have the lease signed AND they've moved in (once burned...), but it's good to see a glimmer of light at the end of that tunnel.

So those are yesterday's mustard seeds. Now I want to talk about grace.

One of the most frustrating and ironic things about this kind of experience is the role of grace. I'm finding that it's me who is constantly called to offer it up toeveryone else. It feels so backward, but it's the truth. I have to let it go whenever somene makes an insensitive comment (and believe me, I've never heard more of them in my entire lifetime, and from people who should know better to boot). I have to avoid feeling angry and heartbroken over the amount of silence I've endured from people who either don't care or can't figure out what to say. (Because just to reiterate again, silence is the most acutely painful response when someone is going through an experience like this.) I have to forgive it every single time Logan gets a new roommate who immediately begins sneezing or hacking up a lung from a flimsy curtain away. I have to grit my teeth and smile every time that idiot in the Prius cuts in front of me so he can go 64 in the fast lane on the freeway, when all I want is to get home and eat dinner and put Abby and Isaac to bed and collapse on the couch. I have to not cry when I realize that as we enter the holiday season, everyone else's lives are atwitter and so very alive with the glow of anticipation when so much of me feels dead inside. I have to remind myself that despite how unfair (and if there were ever an inadequate word, that's it) this all feels, I can't expect everyone else to stop running their races and wait for me to catch up because that wouldn't be fair, either.

But anyway. I just looked at my calendar and saw that it's October 7. What happened to September? Will this Fall season, my favorite of the entire year, feel like that too when it's all said and done? Will it ever be my favorite again, or will it just be symbolic of a nightmare I can't forget? So many questions.

Too many.

I don't yet know how Logan's night went, but plese pray that his Methotrexate level will drop, as it was a little too high yesterday. Also pray that he'll avoid a fever. I just want to bring him home again.