Friday morning, I was excited about a new referral, I hope she agrees to a Bible study.
Mum had texted me last night at 10pm to tell me Paul was in the hospital . It's gotta be Covid, even though he had tested negative for it, but this cough, he's had it for months.
Paul calls at 9.30am and asks me if I'm sitting down. Why does my heart feel like it's in my stomach, Like I wanna puke. Says he's been diagnosed with AML, if not treated, the Drs are saying - weeks!
Everything else that happened that day is a blur. I started counting the tiles on the floor. Then I counted the lines in the tiles. Then I analyzed the colours of the lines - what colour are the lines, you could say grey, taupe, nude, who gives those neutral colours their names anyway?
I think was stunned. In shock. Numb.
I don't even know how, (I mean I do know how and who, but you know what I mean) but we did start a study with that new referral just 2 hours after that awful news. Somehow, I don't know how, my partner and I conducted 3 studies all the way till the meeting that evening. After the meeting, it was time to count tiles again.
(The tile-staring time was deducted from field service)
The news is starting to sink in. The reality of it all.
My daily schedule since June 12th until now is:
6.30am - get an update from Paul's DPA.
10pm - Call Mum
On rare days, there's a millimeter of good news.
But most of the time it's a sandbag of bad news. Wet sand
Words cannot describe the weight of this pain.
But every morning, before the calls begin, I take a 2 min walk outside just to soak in a bit of vitamin D (vitt.amin not vite-amin please), nourish my heart with the text, bible and prayer.
Pour out my heart to Him on a whole new level, a level I have never experienced before.
Then, with that little bit of strength and joy, "let's go and get today's updates."
Most days, I crumble into a 1,000 pieces after receiving the updates. My chai da cup is enjoyed with a cup of tears.
Shower - in tears. Sweep the floor - in tears. Watch 1 RC music presentation in tears.
Then I feel better - and can move forward with the ministry, somewhat.
As challenging as life is at this moment, Jehovah has given me a reason to smile, every day. It's short lived, but still, it's a smile.
Reasons to Smile
Above: Neha's crazy hair. We called her unexpectedly and asked her if she could study and she yelled out loud, in a high pitch singing tone, "Offffff couurrrse I can study!". So excited to study! Couldn't all our calls have that child like spirit?
A dear friend from Canada who use to serve in The PI and didn't know what the shock was all about but a "savage" bird 😉 told him, asked, "Shock from what? Shock from poor wiring in your apartment? Or shock that you got a letter from us? Or just a general shock like when someone drops pennies off the 9th floor of a building and hits you in the head kind of shock?"
His letter made me laugh out loud.
His letter made me laugh out loud.
Him and his wife wanted to send me something but unfortunately the delivery system used there, he said, was part of a dog sled arrangement between them and walrus tusk removal, (Did he?!).
Felt good to laugh.
A very dear sister in Kolkata India started to record the English public talks every week and sending them to me because, she says, "It's the least we could do, we don't know what else to do for you." So that gives me double spiritual food for the weekend.
And last night she invited me to attend a talk given by a Gilead graduate on "Are you wrestling for a blessing?"
Jacob was in intense pain while wrestling with the angel.
"Despite the tears and pain he held on tighter."
Phew - that point hurt.
Since June 12th, 24 days have passed.
Do I have 24 things from Jehovah that brought a smile to my face?
Nope.
😟
I have 72!
🌼
I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I'll try my best to keep "sowing with tears." (Ps.126:5)
To look for a reason to smile each day.
And do what Bros Sanderson said:
Don't see the lions - See the chains!
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