Crumby Icky Yuck

My darling "feels yuck."  He describes it as feeling like he has a belly full of chemo.  *laughs*  Not super-surprising, is it?  Poor thing (pobrecito, in Spanish).  I told him to consider taking off tomorrow and I think he is considering it; who knows what he'll plan, but we've definitely learned that Chemo Day 2 of each cycle, while not the drop-you-to-your-knees chemo, is still . . . well, . . . chemo.  So he feels pretty crumby.

So, I'm sorry for unnerving folks in my last post.  CLEARLY, I have good days and bad days.  I aspire to be someone of such strong faith that every moment finds me leaning on God and resting on him as my foundation.

The truth is that fear is powerfully persuasive and comes with my ugly friends.  And, well, I had a spell of self-pity and suffocating sadness.  I am not trying to say I'm just over it now, but good friends and reading some Truth always help you gain perspective.

Listen to what Carol Kent brilliantly said in her book, "A New Kind of Normal."

"What you once thought of as 'normal' will be adjusted to a new kind of normal.  The question is:  how will you respond?  Will you close the blinds on communication with other people, focusing only on your personal pain and deep grief, or will you choose to live a meaningful and vibrant life, even if it's different from the life you always wanted?  Will you make choices based on unshakable truth that will not only enhance the quality of your own life, but also bring renewed hope and fresh courage to people in your sphere of influence?  Whatever you do, choose life.  It's the first step to getting a foothold on your new kind of normal."

I said she was brilliant, didn't I?
*laughs*

Well, tonight Ray has woken from his post dinner nap, and is studying for his delivery of the SOLs on Wednesday at school.  I am planning on checking out Monday night TV.  Is there anything fun that comes on Mondays?