I slipped into a parentheses ( )** three months ago today, May 29, completely changing the course of summer. I had not planned on this; I did not want this. What was/am I to do Now?

Now, a ( ) in writing is identified as an addition for clarification or an explanation of a sentence. It’s not always necessary for the story content, but it adds a better understanding for the reader.

A ( ) can also be a break in the routine of life, good, happy breaks; brief days of a planned surprise. It’s simply an interval between two happenings… the good ones we enjoy… the bad ones… well, we cry through. College would be a parentheses; it doesn’t last forever. Only four years! A slip on an icy winter’s day, and one’s story is changed from a happy shopping holiday to one of fretfulness and sadness. It’s a ( ), a pause in the anticipated days of the season.

If you read my last blog, (I know it’s been way too long for staying in touch), I’m not fine, but it’s ok… see here, you will know I have been in this ( ) for the summer, and it has not been a vacation. After a six week ( ) of non weight bearing, there was another ( ) within the first one. Surgery was necessary. Has it explained or clarified something for me?

We’ve all had breaks in the norm, these pauses that bring about changes, changes we didn’t want or plan. We all can or have slipped into a ( ) we thought would be short, but it lasted much longer. All analogies break down, yes, and we can call these short intervals a detour, a storm, even a road block. Some end, as hopefully, this one will for me, and I will walk soon. But in some events, the ( ) come, our hearts are broken, and we enter another season. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tom and I have four male friends who slipped into a ( ) recently and were hospitalized… the parentheses closed around them. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Now their sweet wives have entered a most difficult season.

Do these breaks on the journey serve to give understanding to our lives? Or not? Do they explain something, give us a clearer message? I want to learn something while locked in this ( ).

At first it was difficult accepting being enclosed in these brackets. I tried. I couldn’t focus clearly on others, as I needed to focus on maneuvering through the confines of pain. I fought dependence on Tom. It would have been easier to dwell on the “what ifs” and “if onlys”, but finally, I managed to accept the Now moments. A quiet surrender of today prevailed. “This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice, I will accept this situation and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24).

I understand what it means now to live one day at a time. Life was suddenly slow, too slow for me. I need to be fast. “This time is for you. Your time to rest. Your time to heal. And nothing’s more important than that… Because you’re important.” These words were on a card from a sweet young friend in Texas. I had to learn it was/is ok to be slow, to listen to the birds longer, to read more, to enjoy the last cup of coffee. “I will take refuge in the shadow of Your wings until the disaster, (until this parentheses) has passed” (Psalm 57: 1b).

One early morning, two hummingbirds collided near me and slammed into the storm window on the patio. Both played dead, until one soon flew away. The other one couldn’t move. As fast as I could travel on my scooter, I scooped him into the palm of my hand. No movement. I began to blow ever so gently into his tiny face. Eyelids opened. Slowly, slowly breaths, or whatever birds do, settled over his body. For a full ten minutes, I blew soft whispers over him. Several minutes later, when alert, he cocked the small head, hopped to the table and flew into his day. Minutes before the impact to the window, these tiny wings were flapping about 50 times a second! Immediately, his life slowed!

I’m like this lifeless humingbird, I thought. For these days, weeks and months, I am completely dependent on Tom, the scooter and walker. I can’t accomplish much on my own; I can’t fly. But God, in His mercy, whispered words of encouragement and assurance that morning. He has never forgotten me.”The Lord Himself goes before you, and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” (Deuteronomy 31:8).

It’s been so very quiet.

It is a good thing… I never had a pity party; I have not asked why this (I simply slipped on wet mud). And even though, there have been no shouts and promises of walking quickly, I sense complete gentleness and acceptance that all is well. I can feel a holy presence within the ( ) … often with tears. It is ok to cry… there is healing in tears. “You have kept count of all my tossing; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in Your book? This I know that God is for me. In God, whose word I praise, in the Lord, I shall not be afraid ” (Psalms 56:8-11).

For a PollyAnna who forever expected “something wonderful around the next corner”, I stopped expecting. Life is just slower, this living one day at a time… waiting to walk, waiting to do. Something. Anything. I cannot change this situation; I can’t undo the ( ) for now. A most encouraging word from my medical doctor when I portaled him that I was too sad … “Barb, it’s ok to feel this way.” Often we condemn ourselves for something we didn’t do and have no control over.

The following was a post I noticed this week on Facebook; how beautifully a young friend, Sarah Morgan LaDuke, expresses the truth of living in the parentheses and seasons of life:

As I look thru my life I see so many seasons. Seasons of challenges and growth. Seasons of joy and beauty. Seasons of mourning friends that simply walked away. Seasons of celebrating people that are consistent in love and support. Seasons of lonliness that were all consuming. Seasons of peace and contentment. Each time and season had a reason. Some of these seasons I wish had never happened, but God showed me consistent love even in the darkness.

Does life make sense, “no”. Why do people walk away whom are your friends? I could make up a philosophical answer, but I have no clue. All I know is that in my hurt, God was there. In my joy, God was there. He is the one consistent thing in it all.

You are always seen and loved!

We live in and out of parentheses, and often we are gifted with a happy ( ) within our current hard ( ). This summer we celebrated Tom’s 80th birthday; later, we had sweet guests from Switzerland and the Philippines. I can not imagine life without happy parentheses and even those with tears. Herein is life on the journey to Now.

***A parentheses is ( ) . A ( ) will be used in this blog instead of writing the word each time.