Stepping out …
Quail: roughly the size of a man’s fist.
Sleeping, they splay;
roused, they leap into the air,
like popcorn kernels hitting hot oil.
The females lay eggs on the run. All of them poop on the run.
One breeder says every time she leaves, her quail cry. A sound somewhere between a mew and a moan.
That’s me lately, writhing with undiagnosed infection. I doze in weird positions, then leap up for, well, the facilities.
Grousing: a verb
Twice, in the ancient Hebrew wilderness, God lavished quail on the Israelites—despite their ingratitude. Tired of manna, they demanded meat. The Almighty practically flung quail into their faces.
There. See the BLESSING?
A sign
Today, quail huddle in gangs beneath our spreading juniper shrubs, before stepping out. They make a break for it, get out of Dodge. I want out too.
I spell mad: B.R.A.T.
Broth
Rice
Applesauce
Tea
For now, no tangerines, no Mae Ploy sauce, no Honey Dijon chips.
And no escape from the smallest room in the house. No stepping out. Because no one knows if my immune system is functioning.
What eccentric blessing is staring me down?
And then in the wee hours, words from Isaiah:
In all their distress, [God too] was distressed,
and the angel of his presence saved them.
In his love and mercy he … lifted them up
and carried them all the days of old.
Even here. Tonight. Alone, on cold linoleum.
I want to know how to see blessings …
Quail make me laugh.
They dither. Their topknots bobble. Their heads are like spastic question marks.
So I have questions too …
- how to send roots down into hope until I feel the sap rise
- how to turn enigmas into love: valentines, worthy of stamps
- how 100 questions might whirl like lassos, aiming for heaven
I want to know gratitude’s face when it roams—homeless, in my neighborhood.
I want to know What you want to know …
More on gratitude (from the archives)
Many thanks to Photos from Class and quail breeder, Jessica Lane
For those tracking our continuing trials, er, adventures: Dreamer had a great follow-up with his cardiologist today. He’s been okayed to train with a personal coach. I hope for a diagnosis and treatment plan at my follow-up on Monday. Our daughter is almost fully recovered. No house yet.
Thank you, friends, for caring … sharing … and prayer-ing alongside us.
As always, Laurie, you write with clarity and compassion, wry humour, gentle observation of life’s absurdities and a whole lotta grace. I’m so sorry you are sick with an as yet unexplained and unidentified illness. No fun. I hope and pray you get answers soon. And yet, as you battle through, you are able to seek for the blessings hidden in the hard, which is an inspiration to us all. May your news echo that of Dreamer’s, even if it takes you a while to get back on your feet again. Cold linoleum isn’t the best place to spend your time. Sending healing prayers and gentle sympathy hugs. May this illness recede soon. Blessings and love. xo ?
Joy, your words bring you close, my friend, and I feel your compassion and hope on my behalf like a gentle hug, laced with prayers. I’ve been diagnosed with C. Difficile, and as of today, I am halfway through a 10-day course of super-meds. It feels like I am, at last, on the mend! I’m so grateful for your understanding and support, Joy. Thank you.
It’s good to hear you have a diagnosis, Laurie, unwelcome or otherwise. Because half the battle lies in knowing what we’re dealing with. May those super-meds be supercharged by grace and hit their target with no remorse! Hope you feel much better soon, my friend. Love and prayers continuing, of course… 🙂 xo
“Supercharged” grace, I love that, Joy. It makes my heart leap with anticipation!
… a gentle leap 🙂
Dear Friend,
Thank-you for your kind encouragement.
You are a blessing!
I lay here recovering from TKR and I will be sure to pray. May God hold you ever close. So good to hear the news of your sweet family.
love and thanks, Connie B
Oh Connie, a thousand blessings on your healing knee as well as your spirits. I salute your courage! May your body again embrace the healing regimen and resist all complications. May Peace keep you and unexpected beauties ambush your days.
While I’m in quarantine, I’m holding this request from an old diary of Puritan prayers close: “the grace of a thankful and uncomplaining heart.” Holding you in prayer, too.
Oh, man, do I appreciate everything you write about, because of HOW you write about it! You are not just sick and persevering through a whole pack of troubles, but you are funny and intelligent and grateful and inspiring and SO gifted! Whew! Sending love and prayers!
Pacia, you are a shot in the arm today, the writing arm. 🙂 Thanks for your love and prayers, friend, and your faithful support. Leaning right into it, thanking God.
It breaks my heart that you’ve endured (and continue to endure) one trouble after another. But my heart also soars (even tearfully!) on the hope and joy and even humor you find around you. And you express it all with such creativity and poignancy! Thank you, Laurie, for continuing to seek after truth–while you’re sick, no less–and bringing us along with you. I pray you DO receive answers and help on Monday. Please let us know what you find out!
Nancy, it does feel like starring in a bad virtual reality sitcom some days. I’m so glad God designed the sense of humor as basic human hardware. It sure eases things. And I’m glad this felt like an okay trip to make alongside me. I debated. The quail and the verse convinced me. 🙂
Hope all is proceeding well with recovery at your place.
The scripture you shared here is precious to me on so many levels. I probably heard it somewhere, sometime, but now my eyes have read it. It is copied into my journal. For reasons I will not go into here, it was God’s word to me today to remind me of the truth he is with us in our pain as well as our joys. Thank you.
Oh Carol, I know what you mean about those incomparable verses. They were the deal breaker. They lifted me above writhing desolation that night and have stayed with me since. I memorized them years ago in a heartsore time, and there they were, on the edge of my brain, right when I needed them.
As did you. I am so grateful you told me. Praying for you.
Dear Laurie!
May the Lord send you quail to go with your BRAT and fulfill all your needs. I pray for wisdom and path to restored health for you all! I am heartened by the good news for Bill. I miss seeing you dear friend and pray you will be back among us soon!
Oh Deanna, don’t make me laugh, it’s too painful. But good for the soul, oh so good for the soul.
Thank you for your prayers. I miss you too! Hoping for answers and treatment plan Monday.
I recall our pediatrician in the mid-1980’s prescribed:
Bananas
Rice
Applesauce
Tea
when our toddlers had diarrhea.
Wishing you wellness, Laurie.
The BRAT DIET LIVES ON! Yes, I can have bananas too. I tried a nibble yesterday. I can also have dry toast and saltines. Alas. Immediate repercussions from all. Sigh. Thank you so much for your kind wishes.
So glad to hear Dreamer is doing better and better and trusting our most generous Lord to heal you pronto too. Thank you for the beautiful way you honestly express reality and encourage us to be grateful in it. Your desire is similar to mine…. I’ve been asking God for JOY in the midst of all of life, not just the part I hope for.
Sandy, thank you for your ongoing love and prayers. And for rejoicing with us! What a powerful desire you express here: Joy in the midst and the muddle. May it effervesce in new ways that delight you today, and be your strength in the woeful and humdrum as well. Grateful you shared, friend.
❤️
I want to know God. That’s all. ?
I’m glad to know you.
The Source of everything. Thank you for telling me.
And I, you.
No fun. Hope you can make a break for it & leap like popcorn kernels soon. “Mystery illness, you need to get out of Dodge.”
Carol, your words make me chuckle out loud (gently). And I really appreciate the prayer. Thank you! I will hold that popcorn image in mind for myself. 🙂
What a blessing to read as I dealt with colon spasms this morning. I am a natural healer and not used to being sick. Those sensitive among us often hold stress in the colon. Can I learn to rest in Him MORE? Yes. His grace will cover me, under His strong wings. I will shelter there and deeply embrace his sufficiency. If Jesus learned obedience by what he suffered, then I will also learn obedience. Blessings and healing to you my sister.
Lois, I’m so sorry to hear about your morning. I have a whole new appreciation for what people suffer. For me, it’s been a long month, but what of those who suffer chronically? May we all learn this deep rest you speak of, sheltering and renewing our strength. Thank you for your prayers, and know you have mine.