Arnica Anonymous

My first two water coloring attempts. I still have not finished the painting I shared in my last post. More than anyone else I know I struggle with boredom. This is not because I have nothing to do. In fact, the busier and more stressed I am the more bored I find myself. I simply require frequent change in my life to keep me interested. (This seems to be a rare characteristic for an INFJ)

Day One  I donated blood the other day and after the phlebotomists had to do everything in the books to keep me from fainting I got suspicious. When I came home I stripped off some clothes and stepped on the scales. My discovery was this: I now weigh what  I did when I was thirteen, not completely filled out, and an inch or two shorter.

Gianna turned to me in a brief lull between hand-shakers and asked, "Are you doing okay?" Surprised that she was checking up on me I nodded. "I'm fine." Gianna Jessen's mother went through a saline abortion when seven months pregnant with her but contrary to everyone but God's plans Gianna survived. She was left with cerebral palsy, a powerful story, and a fiery passion. The crisis pregnancy center I volunteer at felt so blessed to have her as their speaker for their annual fundraising banquet. There was just one small question: would Gianna make it? Her flight was scheduled to arrive at 2:30 giving us plenty of time to get her, drive two hours to our home town, and allow her a chance to rest at the hotel and dress. My sister was to be her taxi service so when I called her at 3:30 I was a bit surprised to hear she was not at the airport. The office manager pulled me aside and whispered in my ear, "Between you and I our speaker may not be ab

Throughout my sporadic and fickle blogging years I have noticed that the posts in which I share a struggle or a difficult life event are always my most popular. Why is this? Let me suggest it is for the same reason that we find solace in books and movies. We want to know that we are not alone.