Ordinary

It's a good day. I mean a really good day. Why? Because it's ordinary. I LOVE ORDINARY!

I used to hanker for ~~DRAMA~~. Oh, the things I'd do for the sake of drama! Manufacture urgent needs, hurts, conflict...out of literally NOTHING! Just thinking back to those times makes me want to kiss my mom for not just setting me out on the curb. I would moan...and cry...and, and, and...DEMAND. I was B-O-R-E-D!!! What could ever be more terminally excruciating than boredom?

Today, I'm most definitely not bored! I'm reveling in the ordinary. Might pull some weeds. Maybe we'll have tomato soup for lunch. ORDINARY! Praise God!

No stitches in the ER, no specialists, no friends giving up on their marriages. Thank You Jesus! Found out last week that I *don't* have ovarian cancer. Bring on the ordinary!

On the cancer thing: it was really interesting going for a week or so mulling over the possibility. Ovarian cancer has something like a 35% survival rate. Zoinks! I didn't say anything to many people, but my best girlfriends knew I was preoccupied, so I gave them the scoop. They were so much more disturbed than I was. I found myself saying, "Whatever it is, it already is. I'd rather know than not. This would definitely take us down a different path than the one we thought we'd be traveling, and we certainly will be surprised, but God has known all along and that makes it okay."

The shocking thing was, I believed everything I said. I mean REALLY believed! My gals all wondered what would become of my kids, especially Teen Queen and Wonderboy with their "special needs." It never crossed my mind. And Baby Redneck is just a baby! What about that? It didn't occur to me to wonder. God spoke the universe into existence, He is able to accomplish His will concering my family.

Was I in denial? Was it some sort of supernatural "knowing" that the tumor was benign? Or was it a grace gift from the Giver of every good and perfect gift? I think "c".

So, I'll go do the dishes, put Baby Redneck's diaper back on her (gotta potty train that girl) and sing my ordinary song of grateful praise to my all-knowing Abba.

The out-of-the-ordinary is surely around the corner somewhere. My Daddy God is there too.

Hallelujah!