Well, y’all have heard that the Lord doesn’t give us anymore than we can handle. Now, I know my bootie is wide, but he has more confidence in my shoulders than I do. Pile it on, Lord. Show me what I’m made of. Yes, I’m having myself a pity party of 1 right now. I’ll be over it by the time I finish writing today. And no, I don’t need a little cheese with my whine, either. I just need blessed assurance we all will come thru this storm stronger than we were.
So, my precious Granny O, who I introduced you all to last week, took a fall yesterday and she’s currently in the hospital awaiting surgery for a broken hip. 93 years old, and except for an extreme case of macular degeneration that robbed her of 80% of her vision, and a broke down gall bladder that came out, her health has been A~oK. I’m struggling with some stuff right now myself. Like the fact that I let her stubbornness make me think she was still able to do as much for herself as she was. And in my busy schedule, I let a phone call a day and my Sunday visit to get groceries and bring lunch be enough. Ok, here I go making it about me again. Told you it was a pity party.
I don’t know a lot about broken hips, and can I say that when you google it or web MD the prognosis and treatment, it don’t help to aleve any fears. “Beginning of the end”….”mortality rate within a year of a broken hip”….for once something scared me worse than Fox News. And that’s saying something. It makes me pull the covers over my head should I happen across that channel.
BUT. But she is a tough old bird. But she is tenacious and outspoken and full of those old time southern values we just wish we had. But she has lived a life of sorrow, with I’m afraid more bad times than good. But she worked hard, gritted her teeth, and did what she had to for herself and my Momma, and then myself and my sister, and then on to my son and niece. But even when we were disappointments (and we were), she told us what she thought but still loved us. But GOD. Because if Granny O has been anything, it is a God fearing, church going, praying lady. If the doors were open at the Pikeville Church of Christ, she was there. 3rd row, left side. BUT GOD.
I haven’t gotten around to writing about my son yet, but it needs to be said that he is passionate about 2 things. Baseball and his Granny O. He would fight a grizzly over her. And win. She kept him from the time I went back to work, delights in telling everyone I went back to work when he was 4 WEEKS OLD, JUST 4 WEEKS OLD, everyone!!! She leaves the part out about how I was having to fight my Momma and her to even hold him and her and my Aunt Ruby were chomping at the bit to get him all to themselves.
When I say Dylan Scott Rice was blessed when it came to his “2 little white haired ladies”as he called them, I’m not even scratching the surface. Wanted to play Old Maid under the kitchen table? They did it. Dylan was born with that competitive edge. He had no qualms at cheating during a game of Hi Ho Cherry O or Candy Land to take Granny O and Ruby down. And they let him. Every afternoon, a ride in his little red wagon. When he got that B.B. gun from Santa, bird hunting in the backyard, with strict instructions if he shot a red bird the hunts would end. When the birds he shot met their demise, burials in the backyard where Aunt Ruby sang Amazing Grace. Their boy. And a love ❤️ like nothing I’ve ever seen. Blessed, I say.
I don’t know about y’all, but I take my blessings where I can get them. I collect 2 things. Pineapples and t shirts. My pineapple collecting goes back way before thus current fad with them. I read the story about them meaning hospitality as a young bride, and I’ve loved them ever since. Now, my t shirt collection is impressive. Quit telling me to give them to the Goodwill. No. They make me happy. I would give someone the shirt off my back in time of need, so don’t fault me for hoarding some special ones.
Know what else I like besides t shirts? Bible verses. So,one day scrolling thru Facebook, I saw this link for a site where I could sign up to receive a bible verse t shirt of the month for a year. Hello? Sign me up. $22 a month and guaranteed giddy anticipation each month when you rip that package open. And the verses? RIGHT ON TIME EVERY SINGLE TIME EVERY SINGLE MONTH. Like Jesus himself said, “Send ole Kimmie this one”. I firmly believe he loves to freak me out with these God moments.
So, yesterday, when this pity party started, my verse of the month shirt came. I was like, ok. You better get ready, chick. Open it. It’s my all time favorite parable of all time, my go to story and saying when doing ministry. But it wasn’t relevant to what I was going thru with Granny O! I needed a good dose of “trust in the Lord”, or “he doesn’t give us a spirit of fear”. But no. But GOD. It was “He left the 99 to rescue me”. What’s wrong with you, God? This ain’t no jail ministry, hurting addict situation. Me and a Granny O need strength! I always knew it would happen. God done got something wrong.
But God. As I’m sitting here in this hospital room, mind going 987 places about how I’m going to juggle everything been thrown at me, there is this light bulb 💡 moment. Instead of someone being MY ONE, maybe I need to be someone else’s. Maybe I’m going to. I’ve already seen it in the messages and texts and what can we do’s from my friends and family. Breathe, Kim. Your anxiousness and stress turned you into that one little sheep you always talk about. You wandered out of the herd into a place you didn’t need to go. Away from trust, and faith. Girl, you better back up. Gods got this. In His way, in His time. Get back, Devil. Hard times come no more. Love and I will cover your prayers for Granny O right now. Later, y’all.
If anyone would like your own verse of the month shirt, here is the link to sign up. You won’t regret it. And they make great gifts also!