In which we survive last week, and discuss surviving the week to come.

Oh, man.

This past week has been so full.

First off, let me just say that I love my job. I really do look forward to going in to school, spending my day with my munchkins, and coming on home to my little world at home. It's a good life. BUT.... Calgary's normally mild(ish) climate dumped 7 straight days of bitter cold on us, which meant that my kiddos couldn't play outside.

Fun for the first day.

Fun for the second day, until midafternoon when we started to get a little tired of one another.

Bearable for the third day, until midafternoon when apparently the wheels fell off.

Stressful and draining for the fourth day.

A bit hysterical on the fifth day.

Normally I choose not to be a person who waits all week for Friday, and complains about being back to work on Monday, but I've gotta say that Friday afternoon looked really good. Thankfully the forecast looks better this week.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of my last week of work before going on medical leave. So much is yet to do. I want to leave things in excellent shape for my replacement so that the transition is easier on my kiddos. I've been pondering how difficult the whole process will be on them. They'll be fine, but it's not a journey I would choose for them. Or for me, for that matter.

Interviews for my replacement will be on Tuesday, and hopefully the new teacher can spend Thursday and Friday with us.

Lots to do at school, at home, at the gym... yikes. Got to get new crutches, fix my old brace, get a handicapped parking thingy, try to put some casseroles in the freezer...

Reading over this post, I am struck by how calm I sound about the surgery, and about leaving work. In reality, I feel myself catching my breath from time to time, thinking about what lies ahead. The last surgery and rehab were life changing. I'm not really sure I can handle the pain. I really don't look forward to crutches for months again. I dread the thought of slipping on the ice, on wet floors, on uneven ground. Morphine isn't as fun as it sounds. (Though apparently I am a barrel of laughs when I'm on it, just ask my friend Kerry.) I hate it that Steve will have to do everything for me, right down to helping me in and out of the shower and putting my socks on, let alone driving me everywhere and taking charge of the food and the house.

God is sufficient. God is sufficient.

Years ago I heard a speaker teach us that:

1. God Knows.

2. God Cares.

3. God Can.

4. God Will. (Or more likely, He already has.)

God KNOWS the future of my ability/disability. He knows my fearful moments and my concerns. He knows how this is all going to play out. He CARES about my future, and my heart, and my desire to be productive and able-bodied for years to come. God CAN fix it, He can protect me from further damage, from panic, from losing my control to the pain of the surgery and the rehab. God WILL... well, that's the part I don't really know yet.

God Will do what He knows is best. His love for me isn't constrained in any way. If I truly believe that, then how can I believe He will do anything less than the best for me?

I don't know what that looks like yet, but I will.

I have much to be grateful for, and I know I must list them to put my life into perspective:

9. A loving and present faith community.

10. Pedicures.

11. A full paycheque while I'm off. (I'm all about the practical.)

12. 18 good applicants for my principal to choose a replacement from.

13. Melting snow.

14. Yummy italian lunch, paid for by my inlaws.

15. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Really, what would life be like if nobody had ever discovered that particular combination?

16. Steve. I know, that was kinda #1, too. That's ok.

17. My friend Margie who offered to drive me to physio as often as I need to go, and who even let me know her schedule so I can plan around her.

18. Hugs from Mackenzie.

19. Baby Juliana.

Life is sweet.

Susan