Two graduations + nine days apart + two different states does not equal a lot of time to write. Even now, though loaded with plenty of blog worthy material, I approach the keyboard with hesitation. I don’t know how some people can be so prolific, those fleeting moments I find in between required tasks leave me woefully exhausted.
But the women in my writers’ group are meeting this Wednesday and so I’m updating my blog. If you have read this far, thanks for at least checking in.
|Easter pic of my mom and some of her grand babies|
My mom is home from the hospital and skilled nursing facility. Seeing her recently alert and excited at my middle OS’s final drama performance blessed us all. Progress is being made, thank you Jesus.
Strange that a tiny thing I observed a month ago, a small speck of a creature should continue to have a prominent place in my mind. Let me explain…
A month ago I pushed a wheelchair down the hospital hallway. My thought at the time was the only person in need of inspiration was the woman occupying the chair, certainly not me. It had been nearly 10 days since my mom had entered the hospital for routine surgery and she was still there. The ceramic bunny had relocated to a destination unknown and now I wanted to get sprung. I was sick of this place. We needed to leave premises without delay!
As I lugged the wheelchair into the outdoor patio area, I spotted an inch worm slinking by the path. Lurching and undulating its body, there it went measure by measure in front of the two of us. Some people feel lucky finding a penny on the curb, for me finding this little looper was a priceless sign from God (and I’m not even joking).
|My mom and Inchworm|
Without my mother’s approval, I placed the inchworm on my mother’s hospital blanket. Had she the will to protest, she would have shooed the little guy off her. My digital camera captured the moments when Inchy (the name I have hereby bestowed upon him) and my mom met. It wasn’t love at first sight.
I urged Mom to take heed of Inchy’s perseverance and stamina. Look at him go, nary a twig or hospital blanket got in his way. Inchy’s small hairless hind prolegs drew his posterior body toward the front. And sure enough, ever vigilant Inchy pressed on and followed the motion by extending his posterior legs forward. He didn’t go too far and wasn’t swift but by golly, Inchy didn’t give up. Lo his tiny frame, Inchy never seemed intimidated by his surroundings or his diminutive size.
|One of Inchy’s cousins|
Henceforth, each time I went to the hospital I headed to the outdoor patio area in search of my little buddy. Never was I concerned with passersby or whether someone figured I was a patient in the mental health ward. I just needed to see Inchy, plain and simple. The Hubs was with me on more than one occasion and yes, he thought I was nuts.
You also may think of Inchy as a mere moth larvae but he metamorphosed my thinking and ridiculous joy swelled my heart (and I’m not even joking). Inchy inspired me to write, to hope, to trek on life’s distances regardless of the time it took or the impossibility of the journey. And with his lime green body, I appreciated the confidence with which he carried his quirky color.
Although my mother didn’t and still doesn’t seem to get Inchy’s significance, my perspective changed that springtime day. So here’s what I’m wondering…have you ever experienced something like this when you see or feel a nudge from God in a most unexpected form? Without saying a word, Inchy reminded me to keep moving in a positive direction.