Time – a gift to be managed well.
Today is one of those very rare days when I have no outside commitments and find myself alone.
I have a lengthy to-do list of course, but complete freedom to pick and choose the order in which I do things. There are things I’m looking forward to, and things I’m dreading, or at least longing to give the slopey shoulder to. But at least I’ve started the day in such a great way: an hour with God (my new year’s resolution, second day I’ve managed...) clipping out a few of the dead branches in the garden (while it was sleeting...), and a walk with Dusty.
A walk with Dusty. What a gift that is. Though my foot continues to nag me with pain and cause me to limp, the saintly Mrs Ferres worked her wonders on it yesterday and gave me great hope. In her 89th year, Mrs Ferres still rises before the dawn to paint her watercolour pictures which are then made into notecards and calendars and sold for local medical charities. Then she spends her days massaging sore bodies. She’s had so much experience; a sage nod of her head and solemn, ‘Yes’, as I describe my injury fills me with peace. I’m with someone who KNOWS what to do.
Half an hour of Achilles massage, and a few stretches and twists later, and she declares it should now all right itself.
The walk this morning, therefore, though still a bit of a limp, still a bit slow, still a bit painful, was one lit by the light of hope, that the walk itself would be doing the injury good, not harm.
So, another walk later today, after writing a few thank you’s and thinking of you’s: yes, on notecards purchased yesterday from Mrs. Ferres.
And a hope that today, I waste no time.
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