The last two weeks have surely been a challenge. I was diagnosed with COVID ten days ago and then Jud came down with it just a few days later. I appear to be on the down side, but he, at age 89, is having a more difficult time. He is on three different prescriptions which have given him some relief, but not as quickly as we would like.
Many tasks are plaguing me mentally. I tend to take after my mother in that we muster up enough strength to do one more thing—even when our bodies are crying STOP!! This virus, at least with me, appears to be physically dwindling. And yet, my mind is procrastinating in doing that one more thing. Clothes need to be put in the dryer, and the previous batch removed and folded. One vanity in the master bath still needs scrubbing and accumulated items put back until needed again. Being a multi-tasker is a big part of who I am—but what good is it if there is always the rest of a task left undone or completed under pressures from another source.
So I sit barely motivated, waiting for that burst of energy to strike and lead me to Sthat one more thing. I feel as if there is a subdued battle going on inside me. I want to get up and meet the demands that are lurking in my mind, and yet I sense there is something that can better fill the motionless, a place of acceptance and calm with no guilt or expectations to do. A place that whispers, “Seek me and you will find me . . . .” I hasten to pick it up, to open it, to read it regardless of what page is visible. The soft, warm and gentle words cradle my heart and soul and nothing else matters in that instant except the Presence that is poured over me like a beautiful veil erasing the one more thing.
Patty Joyce
