I went to a tinnitus support meeting last night. I really didn't want to, it being a holiday weekend, and such. But that still, quiet...NAGGING voice urged me to collect myself and go anyway. I'm glad I did. We had some new recruits that were really suffering, and one woman is exactly where I was a year ago. Her daughter had brought her in from Burleson...they made the trip because she was so agitated by the noises in her head. She has 2 or 3 noises, like me. The leader of the group and I were able to do a lot in the way of encouragement, I think, and I made a date to meet this gal midway between our cities to give her some books and CDs that might help her.
This morning I was reflecting on the past year after a few weird dreams about it last night. For some reason that story about "Footprints" popped into my head. I thought about how relevant that story, if overused, is in my life, and I'm sure, yours. I started a dialogue with our Big Daddy, unbeknownst to my conscious mind, and here's what transpired:
Me: "Lord, I see those footprints. Sometimes there is only one set...sometimes there are two."
Father: "Child, the times there was only one set are the times that I carried you."
Me, knowing how our Father wipes away our transgressions: "Thank you, Lord...for helping me. But, Father...I see sometimes that it looks as if the footprints have been swept away...I see no prints, just swirls and ridges in the sand!"
Father: "Ah, yes, my beloved child. Those are the many times I had to drag you through something!"
And, so it was.