Sandra Heska King

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Popping the Cork

November 10, 2011 By Sandra Heska King

I came home for a couple days of grandgirl duty because my husband had to go out of town.

He didn’t greet me, and I didn’t see him under the dining room table.

I knew right away.

He jumped down from the dresser and trotted out when I opened the door.

I knew it had been a while.

A long while.

Maybe 36 hours. Maybe longer.

Poor cat.

I crawled around, sniffed the rugs, and buried my nose in Grace’s strewn clothes.

Then I dragged the mattress out into the rain.

The three-quarter one.

The one we had to have specially made for the antique bed that belonged to my mother-in-law.

The one specially made for her.

I left to get Grace from school.

The wind picked up.

We dodged a branch that had its sights set on the car hood.

We watched an explosion of fireworks dance along the power line near the old barn across the road.

By the door where round bales of hay lay in wait.

I called 911. They sent a fire truck.

We stopped at my daughter’s so Grace could get clothes for the next day, but she ran back down the steps and said she wasn’t going in.

The house was trying to fall apart.

At least the siding.

At home, two trees lay shattered, limbs scattered, victims of my son’s chainsaw, not the wind.

I know they were close to the fence and practically dead (or dying) on their own, but I loved them.

The birds loved them, and they were good frames for field photos.

My plants over the sink were wilted and yellowed and brown and brittle.

I threw them out.

Including my African violet.

The white one.

I noted the layer of dust along the windowsill and the film of cobweb from sill to coffeepot.

And Grace left her listening ears at school.

Close calls.

Interruptions.

Disappointments.

Small losses.

It was all it took to pop the cork for a good cry.

Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way. ~James 1:1-3 (Message)


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Filed Under: stories and reflections

Comments

  1. Joanne Norton says

    November 10, 2011 at 10:49 pm

    WHEW!! Ain’t nothin’ casual and sweetness and light in that one. But being a blessing? Right place, right time? Yes you were.

    • Sandra says

      November 10, 2011 at 11:22 pm

      I suppose that’s why I had a headache . . . So good to connect with you again. 🙂

  2. Lynn Mosher says

    November 10, 2011 at 11:07 pm

    LOL Does your hubby normally sit under the dining room table or on the dresser? Sorry. Just too funny!

    • Sandra says

      November 10, 2011 at 11:20 pm

      Giggle. 😉

  3. S. Etole says

    November 10, 2011 at 11:17 pm

    That proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back … it’s not always a bad thing. Those tears need an escape. Praying for you … often.

    • Sandra says

      November 10, 2011 at 11:26 pm

      A little sleep made a big difference, too. 🙂 I’m so grateful for you, Susan.

  4. Cindee Snider Re says

    November 10, 2011 at 11:28 pm

    Oh, Sandy, I wish I was close enough to show up with a steaming mug of tea and open arms, just there, a listening ear, a pair of helping hands, a warm shoulder, no agenda, just time and space and presence. For now I’ll simply hold you close to my heart in prayer.

  5. Patricia says

    November 11, 2011 at 12:34 am

    sigh…
    here we are both up…
    it’s not as good as being together for a hug…
    but I hope you can feel it…
    mmmmmm.

  6. diana says

    November 11, 2011 at 12:38 am

    I’ll join that hug, too. Sometimes that cork just needs to pop right on out. I’m actually glad you found the release of tears – it helps. And sleep? Ah, yes, that’s the ticket. Deep breath in… deep breath out…. one foot in front of the other, one task at a time. “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well…” Eventually. Getting there is sometimes just plain hard. Sorry for all that makes this one of those times.

  7. Nancy says

    November 11, 2011 at 7:55 am

    “Let it do its work” So much easier said than done. So glad God made us with the capacity for tears. When the pressure builds and the cork pops, we really do need them.

    BTW–I have an antique bed with the 3/4 size mattress too. So charming, so uncomfortable 🙁

  8. Megan Willome says

    November 11, 2011 at 8:10 am

    Yes, dear. In days like the ones you are living, it just doesn’t take much. It’s almost like being pregnant–you’re (I was) just so vulnerable.

  9. imperfect prose says

    November 11, 2011 at 9:03 pm

    oh friend. how i wish i could have been there to have a glass of wine with you. xo

  10. Beth says

    November 12, 2011 at 3:13 pm

    Loved this Sandy. Praying for you! Hugs!

  11. Cecilia Marie Pulliam says

    November 14, 2011 at 9:26 pm

    I would be sitting down and doing some serious sobbing myself. What a day. Hope it got better. Prayers sent your way.

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