Here are some of the worries that I woke up with this morning.
The mine shaft hole at the end of the street is still there. It’s bigger, although it’s hard to see how much, exactly, because it is surrounded by a foot of snow. My contact at the county said that the matter is with the county’s attorneys, and they are deciding how to best proceed because technically, the hole is not on county property. True, the hole is just inches from the road, but the road apparently is in the wrong place. Who knew?
Also, there is the car. What are the odds that our trusty, dependable AWD car with more than 300,000 miles would die right before the biggest snow month since we moved to this mountain village? It did. Our mechanic has said it is not worth fixing, that the cost of a new engine would be more than what it is worth. My daughter just wrote in one of her scholarship applications that this lack of a car has effected her most greatly, that it has forced her to be “driven around like a freshman.” It also has led to us careening around icy roads in our Prius, not the best snow car ever.
I dropped my phone and cracked the screen again. Ironically, I dropped it right outside the Staples store where I paid to have the screen repaired a few weeks ago. Truth was it didn’t work quite right after that fix. The home button was broken, and the phone seemed unusable until I discovered an assistive technology feature that allowed me to put a ghost button on the screen, one that allowed me to get in and out of apps. Still, it wasn’t ideal. And now, with another cracked screen? Probably best to get a new one.
Then there is the water that has decided not to drain out of the house. We have had intermittent problems with this, especially in our shower, for a few months. Back in November, when it first happened, we had our septic tank pumped, but that did not solve the problem. The next day, my husband rented a snake from Home Depot, and stood out in the rain and snaked the line. At the last minute, the water drained. We thought then that the problem was tree roots, and were hopeful that we had fixed things.
Then, after another big rain two weeks ago, the water backed up again. This time we called a plumber, someone with more experience with the fine art of pipe snaking. He snaked it twice and managed to get the water down, but said that perhaps the problem is not just a pipe issue but something more serious with the septic system itself. He wonders if the water in the mine shaft up the street might be indicative of a deeper problem. This did not make me feel any better.
Now, our water still is not draining well. I’ve done a few loads of laundry at the neighbors, taken showers up there, and we’ve stopped flushing the toilet unless absolutely necessary. You know what I mean by that. It’s possible that this month of snow and rain has taxed the system, too. It would be helpful if things dried out a bit. The forecast, though, has flash flood warnings on it and a week of extremely wet weather in store.
A few weeks back, I took my son to the doctor to have a skin tag frozen. Wasn’t sure how much it would be under our new insurance plan. Got the bill today. $647.
Worry.
On top of all this, I drove to pick up my daughter in a sudden mini snow squall yesterday in our car which definitely does not have AWD. It was not snowing at our house when I left, but I hit a blizzard somewhere down the road. After I finally got to her school, we inched back to Starbucks and decided to wait out the worst of it (it wasn’t supposed to snow hard! It wasn’t supposed to be a thing!) When we came out, the car battery was dead.
This is life, right?
Richard Rohr says that anytime we feel offended, we are living out of the false, small self. I wonder if it’s also true that anytime we worry, or are afraid, we are also living out of that small self. If that’s the case, my false self is looming large right now. Rohr also says that the way down is the way up, that it’s good to be unsure, dependent, out of control, powerless.
Then there’s Jesus, who says not to worry, that God’s got us in her hand and won’t let go. Not ever. Then, the Psalms remind me again and again that God is my refuge, rock, shield, strength, song. That I can hide under God’s wing. They say that I am the apple of her eye. That the deepest truth is that God’s love is unfailing. I try to hide this in my heart, write it in my spirit, repeat it as my mantra, my word, my song.
But then the storms roll in, storms with names like broken car, broken phone, broken road, broken septic system, broken leach field, broken heart.
This would be a good place in this post for me to have figured all this out. It would be nice to have a witty conclusion, to say something like, “It’s really hard, but it’s all fine!” or “I’m learning to trust!”
Yes, that’s true. But the living it out can take the breath out of you. The way up is the way down, right?
So down we go. Again, and again, and again. And someday, there will be an up. But the down? These downs? Father Keating would say they are more valuable than I know.
So today, this is what I do.
I write my words.
I fix a cup of tea. I throw some seed out for the birds. I remember to do this because a little squirrel runs out and climbs the tree right by the window. How does he survive in this snow and ice? I hope that throwing out some seed will help him.
I hit publish.
No Comments