January 2024 – Amy's Axons

There is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it. In our whole life-melody the music is broken off here and there by “rests,” and we foolishly think we have come to the end of the tune. God sends a time of forced leisure, sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts, and makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives, and we lament that our voices must be silent, and our part missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the Creator.

How does the musician read the rest? See him beat the time with unvarying count, and catch up the next note true and steady, as if no breaking place had come between.

Not without design does God write the music of our lives. But be it ours to learn the tune, and not be dismayed at the “rests.”

They are not to be slurred over nor to be omitted, nor to destroy the melody, nor to change the keynote. If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him, we shall strike the next note full and clear. If we sorrowfully say to ourselves, “There is no music in a rest,” let us not forget the rest is part of the making of the music. The process is often slow and painful in this life, yet how patiently God works to teach us! And how long He waits for us to learn the lesson!
John Ruskin (1819-1900), English author, poet, painter, and art critic

These words have been a source of wise counsel to me through the month of January. As I’ve frequently written in the past, MS fatigue is my number one struggle. These last few weeks have been full of “rests” and the notes of the song seem few and far between.

Sometimes I’m an integral part of the puddle of rest…

I suppose January is as good a time as any to take a forced rest. We’ve had our fair share of lead-grey, overcast skies; bitter winds; freezing temperatures; and occasional snowfall in SW Missouri this month. It’s been the perfect time to hunker down and cozy up for most people in the Midwest.

The last couple of days I’ve averaged being able to be up and moving in 5-10 minute intervals before having to rest for a good 60-90 minutes.

Hubby has been so wonderful to take care of everything in the house during the long rests in the music of my life this month. Thankfully, he’s had some rests in the melody of his life too.

Like me, Hubby’s rests are mostly conducted and accompanied with a cat in arm – this time Clemmy.

I don’t know exactly when, but the notes of the song will swell again and I’ll be up moving. When do you think? March, maybe 🤔?

Between all the “rests”, Clemmy and Wally found the last great, uncharted frontier in the house. Apparently, you have to be an 8-months old kitten to do this 🤪

May God be with you! ❤️, Amy

Hello! It’s been a long while.

We lost our sweet Laudy in October. Her loss so soon after Pip was one of the most difficult times of my life. We lost her at the same time one of our new kittens became very sick and the combination of it all was traumatic. For a few weeks my mind spun into a sudden, intense onset of anxiety followed by a bout of miserable insomnia. Though anxiety and insomnia are apparently common during the grief cycle, I was completely unprepared for them.

It seems impossible to explain the multitude of ways God, in His mercy and compassion, helped, encouraged, held, and slowly healed me. He used my family, friends, church family, scripture, devotionals, sermons, book recommendations, our vet, my doctor, and a psychologist to bring me through. At every turn He was present and grew my faith and trust in Him until my sorrow seemed a gift instead of a terror. Sorrow is never for nothing when seen through the eyes of faith.

Gratefully, I began to feel like myself again and came out the other side of the ordeal just in time to enjoy Christmas with family and ring in the new year. It brings to mind a poem by Robert Browning Hamilton that I learned long ago.

I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chatted all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow;
And ne’er a word said she;
But, oh! The things I learned from her,
When Sorrow walked with me.

Clemmy and Wally healed up nicely from their spay/neuter surgeries with the help of some cat suits I made to keep them from pulling out their stitches.

They are a hoot and are doing their best to keep us young. They chase ping-pong balls, laser lights, and ribbons, carry toys from one end of the house to the other, climb every piece of furniture like playground equipment and take turns sitting on each other in their own version of King of the Mountain.

I’ll leave you with a couple stanzas of one more poem, this one is based on Isaiah 43:2, “When you go through the waters…they will not sweep over you.”

Seas of sorrow, seas of trial,

Bitter anguish, fiercest pain,

Rolling surges of temptation

Sweeping over heart and brain —

They shall never overflow us,

For we know His word is true;

All the waves and all the billows,

He will lead us safely THROUGH.

Threatening breakers of destruction,

Doubt’s insidious undertow,

Shall not sink us, shall not drag us

Out to ocean depths of woe;