My Elephant

All I want for Christmas is not to have this cold! (as in the "sick" kind)

So many others have had it though, I shouldn't complain. After all, I've managed to dodge the bullets since last July, so guess it's my turn to cough my way into oblivion and fill the wastebasket by my bed with enough Kleenexes to sink a battleship.

I've seen a television commercial, one of "drug dealing" ones, that illustrated the feeling of having C.O.P.D. with having an elephant sit on your chest. That is such an apt description of what breathing feels like with my deformed chest cavity too, even without a cold.

Fortunately, my lungs are not diseased, but they are wimpy. So when I get a cold, it tends to visit me longer, because I haven't got the lung capacity to cough all that mucus out of there like most people. I don't count the length of my colds in terms of how many days, but how many weeks.

Until my weeks are up, I'll just keep using my nebulizer and hope I only go through one box of tissues. And isn't that all we can expect out of life. Using the tools God gives us for spiritual survival on this doomed planet and pray for the day when our "tissue days" are a thing of the past.

Revelation 21:4 says "And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away."

The Royal Treatment

The highlight of my day was grocery shopping with my daughter and her two little girls. One of them, Jenna, age 3, had two pigtails today, and with her blonde, curly hair, she reminded me of Ellie Mae on The Beverly Hillbillies. My injured foot required me to use a motorized cart, so Jenna stationed herself by my cart so she could retrieve the items from the shelf and put them in my basket. Julia, the one-year-old, entertained me with her latest word--the sound of a rooster, "cocka-do". Then, of course, Kayla, my daughter, did all the bagging and loading of groceries into the car. I felt like a queen with my three beautiful ladies-in-waiting. It was worth hurting my foot to get this kind of royal treatment.

Perhaps this is why the Lord is so anxious for us to get to heaven. He's preparing a place for us there, and I get the impression that it will be a place fit for a king. He knows we have been through a lot on this planet of sin. He will do all He can to make up for what we have suffered. And all that suffering will require some pretty grand royal treatment.

As I felt nothing but praise and joy for my three benefactors today, we will sing glorious praise to our Lord Jesus and throw our crowns at His feet in appreciation for our heavenly reward. It will be worth more than the hurt foot. It will make up for a lifetime of pain.