My glasses broke this morning --again. The screw is loose and the lens popped out. Funny thing is, the spare pair is in the same predicament. I tend to fall asleep reading so (I do not recommend this) I tend to sleep with them on. I've rarely worn contact lenses after J's birth because most are uncomfortable for me. I know that there are some made for astigmatism but I've found they tend to be fairly expensive. So glasses it is, even though I'm very hard on them. Anyway, J only knows me as me with my glasses on. I don't look right to him without them. So when he came into the bedroom to see if I was awake enough to fix breakfast (at 5:30 in the morning? I don't think so, Pal), he placed the lens back in the frame and handed them to me.
He's my Mr. Fixit. Things should be "just so". It's one of the things that makes me smile and simultaneously pulls at my heart. I can see the intelligence there. He makes the connections that some things should be a certain way and he does his best to make it so. He spent twenty minutes on my lamp a few weeks back, knowing it should be on at night. I was making do with the one on the other side of the bed to read by. That wasn't good enough for J. It should be on. (The light had blown and I hadn't bought any bulbs to replace it yet) He was determined to get mine working and even found another light bulb (blown, of course, and who knows how it got there) under the bed. That didn't work either, of course. But he kept working at it so intently that I snagged one from another room and handed it over.
Somehow I'm not making the connection that makes all the pieces fit. Like J, I try and try, but somehow I'm missing something. While J has patience and tenacity to continue until he is satisfied with the results, I tend to be a little more impatient. I want J to talk now. I want a new place to live now. I'm slowly catching on, though.
On Thanksgiving we made the impulsive decision to visit The Hubby's Mom and sister. We live about an hour and a half away from them and don't get to to see them as often as we'd like. We'd already had Thanksgiving with my Mom and brother because of the Hubby's work schedule. I was thinking of a nice quiet day at home. Well, we had a nice, fairly quiet and fun day with family!
During one of the quieter moments I sat with Mom while she crocheted some Christmas ornaments. One of the skeins of yarn had gotten tangled and slightly knotted so she handed it over to me to fix. Had it been mine I might have simply taken scissors and cut the problem out. Instead I sat and slowly worked at it, enjoying the stories Mom told as she created something beautiful. Soon enough the ball of yarn in my lap was useful again. It made me think about life and how sometimes it gets all knotted up and confusing and seemingly unworkable. When I handle the problem myself I don't always come up with the greatest solution, and I sometimes lose out in the end. But when I hand over the ball of yarn to God and ask for help, it works out. It's not always what I want, when I want, or even how fast I want. It takes time. I'm seeing that in life right now. For whatever reason, I'm still here in a house that I'm not happy with but I'm trying to be thankful for. One more thing fell into place yesterday. One more step toward the goal of a home. God still has the ball of yarn in his lap, working out the knots as I let him. Yes, I keep trying to handle things on my own at times. I don't do nearly as good a job of fixing as He does.
