What I wanted...

What I wanted, on Friday, was for my GP to tell me that she had seen the report and not to worry, you know ... just a formality.  I mean, it's me, Myrtle, the now ever-anxious one.  Surely ... surely ... you speak words of encouragement.  You DO NOT talk about better treatments available.  SIGH.  Trying to get through until the results of Tuesday's testing—whenever those might be coming—is rather difficult for me.

My sister asked me what my plan was.  I liked that.  Such was helpful.  My plan for last night was to try a new recipe.  I have been hankering for something with lime, which is weird since I am not really a lime person in the least.  But I could not find anything.  Then I started to think about the Archer Farms Raspberry Chipotle Grilling Sauce I found when I went to pick up the Teriyaki Grilling Sauce I use on my homemade beef jerky.  So, I set out to make something up.

Yes, my Raspberry Chipotle Baked Chicken was very, very tasty.  Since I am not a cook, however, I merely eyeballed things.  So the recipe I recorded was to help me remember. I have not a clue how someone else could copy it ... except ... you should.  Since I used an individual baking dish, I was able to dip each and every bite of chicken into the butter melded sauce.  Mmmmmm.....

One of my FB friends—is she still a FB friend if I left FB?—to whom I sent details of my experiment asked me if I could exist without heavy cream.  Nope.  Not. At. All.

My sister offered to treat me to a movie rental on Amazon, but I thought I might delay that treat until Tuesday evening, when distraction will surely be most needed.  So, I made do with a free movie.  It was, absolutely, the worst bad sic-fi movie I have ever seen.  Seriously, as I was watching Retrograde, I could feel my brain cells dying.

I am fairly sure the movie was shot with a budget of no more than $1,000.  And that might be an overly generous estimate.  I mean, how can someone bypass security and write a new sub-routine to lock out others by pushing about six colored buttons on an oval door access pad?  Still, the most egregious moment was, at the closing scene, when the time traveler went further back in the timeline to prevent the woman who helped him solve the problem from ever getting on the ship so she wouldn't die.  Did you get that?  Without her there, much of his success would not have been possible.  Time Travel Rule #1 was broken.

What I wanted, today, was help getting through another day of waiting through the wondering.  I was gifted such in spades.  The seminary couple from last summer helped with my distraction.  They came over after church to make Basil Burgers.  I, being rather strong in my opinions, I decided that we should have Apple Praline Bread for dessert and I decided that Marie should make it all by herself so that she would know how to do so.  I made us Southern Fried Corn, which both Paul and Marie declared absolutely wonderful.  So giddy was I to hear that.  Part way through cooking it, I started to panic and doubt that 1) it would even taste the same, making a full recipe and 2) that they would like it.  I find that I truly savor cooking with others. I feel relaxed and safe and normal. 

Afterwards, I lost at Phase 10.  Last summer, I lived in a Twilight Zone where I won nearly every game we three played.  Tonight, I had no chance.  But Marie and Paul let me trash talk, even as I my hope of winning went down in flames.  Paul won, which was a first for him, given that last summer if I wasn't winning Marie took the prize.  I think, honestly, this was the first time I actually enjoyed losing.  By that I mean, I enjoyed his win even as I worked hard to give the victory to one of my own gender.

When the game was over, my guests talked with me ... lots.  We talked about Tuesday, the Psalter, the Book of Concord, faith, extreme couponing, vicarage, Jesus, making the sign of the cross, baptism, the Lord's Supper, worthiness, Luther, Walther, Clement of Alexandria, and a miss-mash of other things.  While I am fairly sure they were planning on spending the evening at home after visiting with me, Marie and Paul kept me company during the day and through the evening.

Mercy.
A gift of my Good Shepherd.

The best line from tonight's gabfest was "People want Jesus as a Life Coach."  I could write pages and pages and pages about that, but the line is sufficient on its own, if you stop to think about the trend in mainline evangelical Christian publishing, strategic planning, devotional/bible studies, and worship formats.

A good day.

I am fearful, to be honest, of the long day tomorrow.  I do not have a plan for that day. I do not have a plan for distracting me from worrying and thinking and wondering if I will have more bad news, more uncertainty and having to work through dreading future testing, or an ending of worry.

I have chicken.
I have limes.
I want ... need ... a plan.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!