A minute from here there’s a place where tree leaves are fiery freesia; cement sidewalk a blaze of yellow, calling into a canyon of color. I made a mental note last year to capture it on camera this Fall as I’d missed the narrow window first time around. A simple supposition not quantified with a ‘Lord willing.’
It’s never good news when the neurologist calls you at home
after the MRI. The nerves from the spine impinged on their way down like good seed
falling among thorns. An urgent but planned surgery; not like a heart attack or
cancer.
The therapy for the back surgery has been to walk. A
blessing because it gets me out of the house and slows the spinning of my mind.
First of course there were the ‘what ifs?” Post surgery now I’m anxious about recovery
and return to normal life and work. Walking has been good. Glimpsing the last fall
colors, taking in the neighborhood, praying about the lilies.
“Consider the lilies,” Jesus said. That’s the struggle. ‘Incurvatus
en se,’ turned in on myself and minor concerns. Barely out from under the knife
I worry about new burdens. Those tree leaves will burn yellow again next year. Come
spring they will bud anew. Flowers will burst forth everywhere. Therefore do
not be anxious about tomorrow.
