The Moral of the Story Is...

Easter April 1st, 2018 - Snow - Lots of it

Isa. 55:9 "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."

The Moral of the Story... 

All week I was undecided whether I was going to make it to the family’s Easter gathering. Since I haven’t been able to walk really well for a month now I cried out and said if I can’t walk I’m not going. It isn’t as if his family hasn’t seen me in this weakened state. Remember I’ve spoken many of time how their eyes speak of pity, dripping of poor Joni looks. It hurts me to see that look on their faces. It’s not my fault I can read people, but their eyes being the window of their soul, their pity pours from their eyes.

All month I’ve struggled to get better. His mom came out last week for my birthday and brought me an enormous fruit tray! She asked if we’d be coming on Easter and defensively I said, “I don’t even know how I’ll feel tomorrow nevertheless in a week.” I left it at that because each new day is a challenge and I feel different every day.

This week I almost forced myself to feel better. One day I would walk well and I kept myself busy and the next day the cane was back in my hand. Each day that I feel better I find myself trying to do too much in a day and am in pain the very next day. It’s the new game of what will I feel today. Friday I washed clothes, scrubbed up the tub and bathroom, vacuumed the floor as if I was preparing for guests to arrive! Saturday I woke and didn’t feel bad at all and went on with my chore for the day and that was going to be to make my mother’s classic macaroni salad to take with me on our Easter outing. With determination in hand, I was intent on going to a family get-together.

All week long the weather was predicting a cold spell for Easter Sunday. Cold as in twenty to thirty degrees after a mixture of the fifties and sixties on the clickity-clanking roller coaster ride of the transitional winter-spring event. I don’t know what day it was when I checked the weather and the word snow popped up but I paid it no mind and went on to healing, physically and emotionally.

Friday came and I checked the weather and it said more than just snow, it said Winter Weather Advisory! For some reason, I thought it was a nasty unethical April Fools joke but I knew deep down the professionals in the field wouldn’t do something of that magnitude. They were now calling for three to five inches of snow, eight if you were under the heavy band that was attached to the storm.

I trudged ahead with my plans; it took my whole day Saturday to make the macaroni salad with every intention of going to see the family on Easter Sunday. A whole day to make macaroni salad you ask? Well, when it comes to steaming the shrimp, cutting up the stuff that goes in it, hard-boiling eggs and mixing the sauce, yes, it takes about four to five hours to make it perfect, the classic way I remember it being made from childhood.

Everything seemed to be going wrong! I made this dish for years now but this time everything was going wonky on me from the noodles to the eggs, step by step it just kept getting worse and worse! The two-pounds of macaroni noodles were not the right ones. I usually use just the simple generic elbows but these were name brand and apparently, two pounds of simple elbow macaroni to generic brands is different than the name brands. I had enough fancier ridged noodles than I knew what to do with! 

From what felt like overcooked noodles to the undercooked eggs, and my dog circling my feet wondering if anything would drop for her, to my back in wrenching pain, this wasn’t going well. I persisted and went on winding up with making a meal for the guys with the excess noodles I had, making me something to eat and having more than enough macaroni salad for all. The optimist in me reigns!

For the entire week of Holy Week, I stayed focused on my faith and winding down the Lenten season with all that I’ve learned. My mornings and writings, as usual, were scripture, my movies at night were God related; winding down at a nice pace, pain in check but persistence won out very easily.

I didn’t even think of the snow until Sunday morning came. I woke and as I peeked out the window I could see a blanket of cotton covering the darkness. As the sun, or lack thereof, began shedding light on the horizon, I could see what I couldn’t see an hour ago, a little more snow than I thought. My son was due to drive home in the wintry white slippery stuff, yet again, after his two nights a week graveyard shift ended. He came home sore because of the shoveling he had to do and the lugging of salt. 

As the blustery temps remained below freezing, the snow kept falling and falling rendering us homebound for the day. I wasn’t willing to drive in the stuff since my back cannot handle the swerves a slick icy/muddy road causes and my husband, being blind in one eye, has trouble differentiating the ditch and the road when it is all uniformly white. We played it safe and stayed home. His mom was disappointed but she wanted us all safe too. Other family members couldn’t make it either, so I didn’t feel too bad about not being able to attend. Maybe she should set the time later than twelve noon from now on. Nope, tradition is tradition and one thing I’ve learned from this family is that they are steeped in routine and tradition.

I didn’t plan on being home for the day so now I had to figure out a meal. Plans are made to be broken I get, but I was certainly not ready for it to be seven inches of snow on April first to be what kept us home. Yes, we could’ve trudged through the snow, after all that is another thing I learned about Nebraskan’s, they don’t let snow stop them from anything. I live in a 4x4 red, white, and black state, Husker nation through and through.

By two o’clock the sun had pierced through the heavy blanket of clouds and the snow had finally stopped. I had shoveled a path for my dog earlier and the path was all but gone, filled in with snow, except for a sliver of brown peeking through. The roads looked very passable and finally cars were passing on the now slushy mess. The warming of the ground from many fifty and sixty degree days helped alleviate the plowing of the snow. The eight inches of snow I brushed from the truck was now sliding off the roof that I couldn’t reach, but the grass was still thick in the middle of the white stuff that defined the majority of the ‘Winter from Hell’! Temperatures stayed in the twenties the entire day of April 1st, 2018.

Then the words came through the tunnel…I have to go to the emergency room. * thud * I nearly fainted at the sight of blood and was rendered useless. Wrapped in gauze my husband drove off as I nurtured my near-fainting, dizzying spell and vomiting. Four stitches later and two hours passed (I was still woozy) my husband made it back home. Unless you want me to pass out, please don’t ask me what happened in my hubby’s new ‘workshop’. Use your imagination, DO NOT ASK! 

All in all the ending of the Lenten season’s highlight was the moral of the entire season; our plans are not God’s plans! Our ways are not His ways! He can and WILL do whatever He sets in motion to do! No one else is in control but Him! Let loose of the ego in you and be reminded, God is good all the time, ALL THE TIME GOD IS GOOD! 

Pss. 118: 5  “I called upon the LORD in distress: the LORD answered me, and set me in a large place.

[6] The LORD is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me?”

[8] It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man.

4 1 18 - Chrismas Pointsettias covered in snow! 

We couldn't have Easter without Christmas now, can we?