Reset

I'll be returning home in a few weeks. Nothing will be the same. It won't be filled with my plans, my things, my people.
How does a 60-something on her own begin again after a devastating blow?
I planned to be a full-time, hands-on grandma with a full-time grandpa by my side in a house filled with Lego's and tea parties. I've been filling that bucket for a long time, but the reality keeps draining my dream.
Others look at their bright side of my reconstruction; please look at it through my life!
I can't find any gleaming redemption today.

There are only two alternatives: give up or reset.

Most of you know I'm brave enough to speak real and raw . There's always someone hanging by a thread who needs their ugly validated...who needs a fellow valley traveler.
One reader finds a local furniture shop specializing in one of a kind global pieces; she's ambushed once again, grieving the collection she amassed while working abroad.  She wanders the store, tears flowing, wanting more than her memories, wanting her own treasures to welcome her home.

I want my living, breathing treasures.

Then God whispers...or does He shout?  
A man without a home stops this "pitty partier" right dead in her tracks with one simple exclamation. 

Life is a gift...everyday, life is a gift!

And I realize I can't reset until I swallow whole this truth.
I've stopped counting the gifts...yet, there are so many to name.
I have a pulse; somewhere there's a new purpose.
I inhaled and exhaled first thing this morning; God will breathe life into my new home. 
My wise friend only dreams of four walls and a roof over his head, I've been gifted with a real live house!

Reset...
Get up! Give thanks! Leave the rest to God.

I tell you, get up, pick up your mat, and go home.

Mark 2:11