Yesterday I was asked to speak in another church meeting. I am asked quite often to share my story and I am afraid if getting struck by lightening if I say no. I am actually quite shy so getting up in front of a crowd is not my favorite thing. But I have been singing and speaking on different subjects for many years and I have learned that the bigger the group, the easier it is to get up. It's less personal. I much prefer a few hundred people to a group of 10 or 15. And Heaven help me if I am one on one.
Yesterdays group was around 30 so it was small enough to feel intimate but big enough that I could avoid eye contact much of the time ; )
I am always amazed at the comments and stories I hear from others. People are often teary and tell me that they needed to hear my story. I am thankful for the opportunity to share, however, when they tell me a bit of their struggles I am often humbled to be in their presence. I might not always feel this way but right now I wouldn't trade my situation for theirs for anything! Divorce, death, troubled or sick children, and many, many others sad things. At times I feel almost lucky that, for now, my main struggle is physical. Just think of the strength they posses and the trust that our Heavenly Father has in them. My hardships are often visible but some people suffer quietly and we are never aware of their heartbreaks OR their greatness.
After hearing from others, I come home and hug my family a little tighter.
Last night I was naughty and carried a glass of milk into my room. Robert hates it when I carry glass but he was tucking the boys in bed and I really wanted it. All went well until I had my first drink. My swallow is still not great and part of the milk went down and some would not. I coughed and choked and milk was coming out of my nose and mouth and going all over the sheets. I was trying to grab a napkin but my eyes were watery, I was shaking and sweating, and it was quite a few minutes before I could calm down and breathe normally. By then I was too exhausted to even move.
When Robert finally came upstairs, he took one look at me and knew something had happened. After making sure I was okay he sat me on a chair, took the sheets off the bed, cleaned them up, put the new ones on, and did it all while making really funny jokes (eye roll) and managing not to lecture me about how childish I had been.
There is something sexy about a man making hospital corners.