Good Hair Day

     I thought that in the two weeks I would be off work following my knee surgery, I would be doing lots of blogging. This has not been the case.  Apparently, my knee bone is connected to my funny bone. Tuesday I had a good hair day, literally, that part was going right. I felt okay and could walk reasonably well, for someone new to Earth who had just recently discovered there was such a thing as walking.  But I skipped BSF that morning because three inches of snow had fallen the night before and I was worried about getting to the church, not in my car, my snow tires work well.  I was worried about getting from the parking lot into the building.  My knee was not strong enough for the fine movements involved in balancing on slippery surfaces and Connie + crutches + ice seemed like a formula for disaster.
     But Tuesday is shopping day--not for me, my knee was not strong enough to shop for me. Tuesday is the day I shop for a shut in. A woman who has been doing things her own way for 88 years and is not about to change. DJ is not the most particular person I have known, but she is number four.  Since preparing a list for two weeks worth of groceries is not her own way, I gamely offered to shop on my lame leg as soon as the snow melted.  As I drove the motorized cart through the store that day, buying groceries that weren't even for me, I was having a bad hair day.  A woman who worries on an Olympic level, who refuses to leave the door unlocked for me to get in with the groceries because she thinks getting startled might break the hip she had surgery on 12 years ago, is perfectly fine with me, her treasured friend, limping through the snow with her groceries 6 days after surgery.
     Whatever blessing I might have gained for this sacrificial service to the Lord, was surely lost in the mental complaining I did afterwards.  The thoughts inside my head were in much worse shape than my leg. Fortunately, people can only see the outside, and my hair looked terrific.