To Be Continued....

So many nice things we want to continue, and we must sometimes make a special effort to keep them up. It is worth it to write that letter to an old friend when we just haven't the time without pushing aside some playing of our own. It is worth it to keep trying just that bit longer with the craft project that seems to be fighting coming together. The sustained contact and the finished product reward our efforts and ego, and may grace our day with a smile or caring reply.

For us to continue is more often taken for granted until seriously challenged, but it isn't a given for anyone. You have to choose to continue to get to the best endings.

I'm now taking a series of rabies shots which have a schedule of their own. I'm not enjoying the change in my summer plans but not to continue myself is too high a risk to weigh against the discomfort they bring. I was told these are soo much better than the old series, that the pains and fevers reported from people in my childhood really don't compare to the modernized version. Happily, this is true; although they aren't painless or without some reaction these are a lot less than I saw in others or heard about in the past. Since the virus IS FATAL in humans once its symptoms begin, the real option is DO THE SHOTS. They are expensive, yes; but so is a funeral. Any possible contact is not to be taken lightly.

I was in the backyard about 4:30 one afternoon and a fox ran at me from under the car. Fortunately, I had a bucket in my hand, which I managed to keep between me and the animal. I even got a few good blows, but it kept attacking. I called for help and then when it was stunned, I ran to the back door and got inside. My son-in-law shot it while it raced to and fro in the same area. Thank God for solid buckets, quick prompts from Him, and the good development of good gifts by Tom. He does handle beautifully situations that would throw a lot of people. We washed down the back of my bucket and the place the fox had lain with clorox water to help disinfect these sustained contact places. I had gotten a scratch on my hand during the fight and possible saliva spewed on it. While the open scrape may have been from the bucket, it might also have been directly from the fox. When the animal control man confirmed the verdict as positive rabies I tried to talk myself out of quite believing the danger I was in. Finally though, a small jolt got through to me. I had better take the advice I would have given others. Don't avoid the necessary treatment, don't presume on divine interference and protection when I had so much help and grace dealing with the nasty animal. This is a do unto self as to others situation.

So I decided to eat a bit of humble pie, to obey the reasonable recommendation and to submit to the series of shots. So, a sometimes creaky, cranky grandma, I continue thanking God for my blessings and will make a renewed effort to just plain continue.

Thank you, God, for grace by the bucketful!