Saturday was the perfect day for a nap. As Tim worked on his project for school, I took a little nap. That little nap turned into three hours, something I very seldom do. I knew that meant I would not be able to sleep that night. At 12:30am I began painting our kitchen. Crazy... I know. Tim went to bed at about 2am, and I told him that when he woke we would be living in a whole new house.
At 7:30am I could hear the dogs in the bedroom ready to go outside for their morning jaunt. I opened the door to let them out, woke Tim up with a kiss and encouraged him to come see the new house in which we now lived. He got up just to please me because he knew that I had been up all night. As he walked in to the kitchen, I could tell it would be a bad morning. He saw the paint on the walls, made a fuss about how good it looked in appreciation for my work, and then did his best to make it to the couch to lie back down. He got frustrated because he had wanted to get some yard work done before church, but now he didn't see how he could even make it to church.
He rested for awhile, hoping that would ease the pain. A few hours later he got up to move around, and then went right back down. All day was difficult. Then, Monday morning came along and he popped out of bed before me, got dressed, had his coffee and went out to do yard work. It is absolutely amazing the difference a day can make!
Through it all, though, I must admit that I am so thankful for his pain. Feeling his pain means that he has feeling throughout his body. He can walk. He can function. He is alive. I thank God for that!
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