The past week can only be described as sweet. It has been that sweetness, like a honeycomb, that has tooth to it. Substantial sweetness, not the kind that melts in your mouth, but the type that takes a little effort to enjoy. Christmas looms like a hovering glow, our house is a busy hive of wool scraps, and sweet smells, paint-spattered children, burnt oak shavings fresh off the circular saw, the sharp percussion of stamping metal and packages arriving on the doorstep daily. The calendar is full, and the house is in continual disarray, with a weeks worth of laundry always in queue for the washer.
I am finding truth in the saying, "You never know what you have until it is taken away". I am praising God that, thus far, it was a temporary pause. I am still here. I am back home to enjoy, with new fullness, all that God has given me. February is looming large on the horizon. My slides were sent today to the eminent pathologist at the University of Pennsylvania for a second opinion. Cancer - nay, mortality - is always in the background. How thankful I am for a foreground of Christmas cheer to distract me from it!
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