Before a Blank Canvas

I find myself standing before the blank canvas of my future once again. Our plans have been erased, and the starkness, the emptiness stares back at me, mocking me. Bright and fresh, yet painful to look at, for how easily my colorful strokes were washed from its surface.

God must find our plans rather humorous, especially since He keeps allowing obstacles to get in our way.

We have set departure date after departure date, and things keep going awry. It has been an awful health year, with both my guys having surgeries in the past several months. Plus Ken’s diabetic crisis last winter. And then there’s the effect all this stress has had on my own health. It has definitely not been a good year for us in the health department.

And all the other stressors: Too many to number.

In the financial department, it’s pretty dismal as well. Cost of living goes up. Rent goes up. Live-in son loses job because of needing time off for surgery. And yet, being retired means Ken cannot just go work a few extra hours a week to help make ends meet. Fixed income really means fixed, unless we scramble in other ways. More to come on that subject in a later post.

Things are bound to improve. I must hope. I must remain in faith that God will bring about only good for us, even from the bad.

Being visual, I made up a calendar showing that there’s only about seven weeks until our most recent deadline would come to pass. And there is way more work to do than that short seven weeks will hold. Sure, two or three able-bodied adults could handle it all in short order, but we are a chronic chick and two dudes recovering from shoulder surgeries.

So, here is the new “plan” and please don’t let that be laughter I hear off in the distance.

We will be stuck here in damp, dismal Portland for yet another winter. Fun stuff. Not! Tentatively speaking, we will make a go of it again next spring. It cannot be helped, unless we suddenly win the lottery, but then again, we would actually have to play the lottery in  order to win it, wouldn’t we? There are no rich old spinster aunts hiding in our closets just waiting to leave us a bundle, either.

My son asked me a question this morning, “What is it you don’t like about winter here?”

It is not that I don’t “like” winter here in the Northwest, but winter does not “like” me. My  arthritis flares up something fierce. And my depression also worsens, with the lessening of the sunshine. Heck, we barely have enough sunshine in the summer to keep me afloat and depression-free, in this Great Northwest. But I am now taking mega-doses of vitamin D weekly and taking measures to ensure an easier, if not less painful winter, joint-wise.

There’s not much else I can do at this point.

Except keep asking God why He has us tied here, for so long. There must be something He wants us to accomplish before we hit the road. I just need to figure out what that is.

Lord, with my faith, I place our future plans in Your hands. I wait upon You, with patience, yet an eagerness to carry out Your works. Lord, please instill in me what it is You want me to do.

Amen.