My string of F words

At a medical facility, one of my relatives was asked to say as many F words as possible in as short a time as possible. Startled by official sanction to release the four-letter word that may have previously more often crossed his mind than his lips, he started in.

I wasn’t there but I can imagine it. His first few words likely emerged hesitantly, then, gaining confidence, louder and faster. Soon the F bomb resounded like staccato in the otherwise sterile room, ricocheting off the walls and likely seeping out beneath the door. He’d just begun enjoying himself when he caught a glimpse of the medical professional’s face; a peculiar mix of horror and amusement. Clearly, her instruction had a different intention. Not THAT word, she clarified, when she could speak again, but a variety of other words beginning with F. 

I had a birthday yesterday, and went to bed feeling blessed by and deeply grateful for several things that have brought me to this age and stage. I woke this morning, and listed them—my own string of F words.

Faith. I trust that God loves me, that he holds me fast, and that resting securely in his hands means nothing bad can happen—even those things that seem so at the time. That belief was been strengthened by the sixty-three years behind me, years filled with both joy and trials. 

Family. We’re spread far by geography, interests, ages, situations and approaches to life. But without my first family (parents and siblings) and my last (my husband, children and grandchildren), my in-laws (and a few outlaws), and the others on the family tree, I could not have become the woman I am today. From the smallest tender leaf to the old and weathered ones, some still clinging, some fallen, they have loved me, inspired me, taught me, helped and hindered me (a few, for a time, but that made me stronger). At this point I wouldn’t swap out a leaf.

Friends. I am, and always have been, rich in my friendships. Deeply blessed, greatly amazed and entirely undeserving. But oh, so grateful.

Fitness. I’m no athlete, but almost all my life, I’ve had the blessing of good health. “Nanas can’t run,” one of the grandbeans reminded me the other day. Maybe not, but this Nana can still walk fast, even trot. Just ask my dog. I can also still touch my toes while standing.

Food. I had a chocolate brownie for dessert, courtesy of the restaurant the Preacher took me to for dinner last evening. I ate it without guilt, because nothing has calories on one’s birthday. Today I will once again eat to live, not live to eat. That works for me.

Finances. Somehow, someway, God has provided for my every need. He has also granted the blessing of hard work and the ability to perform it.

Fur, fuzz and feathers. My pets, my furry loves, always have, always will, remind me of God’s care and Jesus’ love.

Fun. Flowers. Fellowship. Fall. My “F” words keep coming.

What are yours?

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