The last time I blogged, it was our anniversary. I felt upbeat. Energetic even. I came home from work and took a brisk walk around our park, reveling in the gorgeous spring day. Then I changed into a dress Steve loves for our dinner out at our favorite restaurant. We sat under the trees and had a lovely meal. I chose what I love: Maryland crab cake as an appetizer and a salad with pears and goat cheese. That’s when the magic ended.
Immediately, I became violently ill when we got home. It kind of killed the romance. And I haven’t felt well since. Turns out it was seafood poisoning, apparently one of the worst kinds. My doctor said the effects can stick around for a couple weeks. It doesn’t help that I’m in my busiest, most stressful, season at work and I’m over-the-top excited about our granddaughters’ visit next week.
Our 14th year of marriage – not to mention the month of April – isn’t off to a great start. I just have to ask: Can I just start over?
Do you ever feel like that? Just wish you could turn back the clock or flip the calendar page? Or take back a comment the second it’s uttered or typed?
I’d like to wind the calendar back to before March 12. When I arrived home that day, I first noticed Steve’s truck wasn’t there. I entered the house asking, “Where’s your truck?” and then I saw Steve bandaged up with his jeans cut up to his thigh. The awareness clicked together for me in s…l…o…w motion. When I heard the words “head-on collision” and “totaled,” I knew God had spared Steve’s life. That became even more evident when I cleaned out his truck the next day. 
The after-effects for Steve have been a lot of aches and pains (severe at first but, thankfully, diminishing now) and the hassle of dealing with insurance and getting another vehicle. Not bad when you consider the alternative. For me, I had a case of PTSD, feeling jittery for days afterward. And I was just an indirect trauma victim. (A doctor friend asked Steve if he needed a muscle relaxant. He said “no.” I wanted to say, “I’ll take his.”)
Food poisoning and minor-injury accidents are temporary problems. I realize they’re very light compared to what so many face on a daily basis. It’s a reminder to me that none of us are spared difficulties. Some weeks, months, years are not our favorites. We’d like a do-over. Life is filled with good days and not-so-good; glorious seasons and seasons of deep loss.
We can be certain of one thing: God is present every single day. And the season you’re in will pass eventually. I’m hopeful that I’ll feel back-to-normal real soon. That April will end better than it began.