Schoolbuses, Sinovial Fluid, and Sobriety

My current gratitude short list.
A cross-section of our family life right now.
Tellingly Mormonish alliteration, tantalizingly randomish combination,

what do we do when we feel something we don't like?
when choosing what to do in order to feel better, do we get feedback about whether the choice is appropriate and healthy?

Sobriety requires that an addict check in with his sponsor when feeling doubtful, anxious, tempted. Before acting out or taking action which might be unhealthy, the addict is supposed to run his plan by a seasoned sober addiction-recovery graduate.

Reminds me of prayer. I can imagine that running a mile in the pouring rain would feel so good while I'm tempted to yell and scream and cry. I might tell someone that's what I'm thinking of doing. Someone else might say that exercise is a healthy way to cope with difficult emotions. But then if I pray about it, I just might get a very specific directive TO do that very thing, but in a certain place at a certain time with a certain someone, and wearing a certain reflective coat. And the answer might not make sense, to me or anyone I might tell about it, but to a loving all-powerful Divine Daddy, these are the best conditions for my plan to work to my best advantage . . . and then again, perhaps He will answer, "No, you will not."

My daughter with the mile-wide aura kept bringing up the idea of walking to school and home every day. I thought I had dissuaded her a time or two, but when the topic arose again, I knew it was time to give her the only answer she would understand. I said that if she was going to walk that route, she'd have to know that route, and how long it would take. So I offered to take that walk with her on the following Sunday evening. Sunday morning came, and my dramatic darling appeared and announced that today was THE day. I reminded her that we would take the walk LATER after supper.

Supper came and went. On went the walking shoes, and out WE went. Right on our street. Right on the street at the bus stop corner. Left at the end of that street. Right at the next corner. Left at the big street. Left soon again. Then just keep walking and mentally reviewing the directions for a long time. Lots of things to see and talk about. Finally this winding street ends and we go left, and we're almost there! We insisted on her going all the way to the front door and touching it before the timer was stopped. 45 minutes, one way!

That means that I would have to get up and get EVERYBODY ready quite early. My walk would be an hour and a half long, if there were no distractions, disruptions, or injury. Not that I couldn't use the exercise, but . . .

When I think of that big yellow schoolbus, I am grateful. No worries of whether my darlings make it all the way to their school. No having to get everyone up 45 minutes early. And no driving for me, which means less stress, and hopefully, fewer self injuries . . .

Several weeks ago, I was driving, and tried to put my left hand on the steering wheel the underhanded way. My index finger poked the wheel instead, and my finger was jammed. No breaks, no blood, just jammed. For a while it doesn't hurt, but then it does again. I had it checked out by a doctor, because I didn't want to suffer longer than I have to. He checked for breaks and assured me that I just have to give it time to heal. Having pulled this finger repeatedly, because that seems to alleviate the pain, I asked the doc whether that was wise. He said sure, that lets more sinovial fluid into the painful joints. It couldn't hurt.

Thank goodness these things I'm taking advantage of and grateful for are harmless enough.