We would sometimes go through a spells where finding a simple four-pack of toilet paper would be next to impossible.  Never mind the larger 8, 10, or (gasp) 12 pack!  I would nervously watch our small stockpile of tissue dwindle down, and down. 

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So I found a manual therapist, and, for the first time, I had a therapist with whom I could stick it out and receive lasting benefit.  My therapist really helped me from the very first visit.  Unfortunately, I experienced a second dislocation, also in bed.  It was at this point that my therapist  pulled out the “big guns,” so to speak.

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In my introductory post about Margaret, I mentioned that she has taught me many things.  The first of many lessons to come from my little orphan friend was the definition of this word.

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Though I greatly enjoy writing, poetry is an expression which comes only in fleeting fits and starts.  This poem was written in the very early days of my Christian journey, a time during which I wrote a lot of poetry about the new life I was learning. 

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What do I do?  My husband is gone.  My dogs are gone!  It’s just me and three crazy goats!  What do I do?  I swallowed hard, and thought it through.  Then, I was resolved what I would do.

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I will not fear, though the earth be removed, and mountains cast into the sea.  Because of the sure promises of God, though the mountains shake, the waters roar, and the waves crash over my head, I will not fear.

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With guidance from the Gardener, I am learning that I must make judicious decisions about what goes in my lovely basket.  This is essential to my physical and emotional wellbeing.  My health is just too fragile right now, and is easily over taxed . . . The Gardener is generous with the beauty and variety of the flowers that fill my glass basket — my life.  I just need to be wise and not pick them all at once.

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As the sun made its way up, I looked to the brightening Kangari hills, and my mind’s eye traveled further to the Eastern Province and the red clay streets of Kono.  I could see where we had walked 12 years ago.  I thought about the children we had met who would now be adults.  And I could see three red shirts.

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We had only been in Sierra Leone for a few months and were still renting a house on the outskirts of the capital city of Freetown.  I so enjoyed the upper veranda built on the roof of that house.  What a vantage point!  There, with a cup of tea, my Bible, and a journal, I would unobtrusively enter into the daily lives of the people without their knowing.

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As my knee is deeply aching, I begin to move out of bed and I’m reminded that not just Saturdays but all of my days are going to be very different from what Stephen and I had planned and hoped.  But I’m also reminded that in Christ, they can still be glorious. 

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