This weekend was...well, boring.
I actually prayed for down time, for time to sit and do nothing. Time to relax.
God answered, though I'd have rather not had a son with a broken foot in order for that to happen. But then, I'm not calling the shots; He is. My job along this journey? Trust.
I do, but I also question.
Why does God seem to make some people's path so big and wide and clear and well lit...almost like a landing strip?
And then, why does God need to schedule a broken foot to get the point across?
I trust. I do. And that's all I can do.
In fact, I've surrendered. I really have. I know there is a greater plan...that while a door has slammed shut there is a window open. It's at the other end of what seems to be a long hallway, but there is a visible window.
I just wish the hallway was cleaner...and didn't involve a cast.
So this weekend we did...nothing. Well, not nothing, but close to nothing. I cleaned out my spice drawer and emptied all my spices into cute little glass containers. Why? No clue, but it made me feel better. I cooked, too...and we ate. Laundry was done, lists were made, coffee was ground.
Oh, and Hallmark movies (and multiple games of football) were watched.
And by last night, we were all stir crazy. Brian was invited to a friends for supper and that guy that I like so much was at a concert, so I loaded up Alex and his crutches and we went for a drive.
It was something...and helped improve his mood a bit.
Western bacon cheeseburgers helped, too. Four of them.
Only 7 more weekends until he can drive again.