Arrived home Tuesday at midnight after fully three plane rides, three airports, and hundreds of unhelpful airline people and tsa (is that what they're called) officials (Ma'am, you really should have told us you had a stroller before you got in line" O Really! Well, I'm telling you I have a stroller now! etc, etc.)--three completely exhausted children in tow. We descended from the horrible propeller plane, got our luggage, shoved ourselves into our car and then my ear was alit, as it were, by a fire within. As in a raging and horrible ear infection. I rocked back and forth in the fetal position all night until I could get to the walk in where the doctor, in a fit of brilliance, said, 'well, you probably have an infection. Hurts doesn't it.' Wanted to run screaming from the room and my own head but only said, 'Yes'. Am now taking horse like antibiotic pills and liberally souping up children with Motrin, Tylenol, Advil and chocolate. All their poor noses are bright red, cheeks burning, foreheads hot and aching. It seems that everyone we know, including ourselves, from one side of the continent to the other, is sick. And yet still, another day has gone back and Jesus has not returned. Will wait another day.
Bought new living room curtains in consolation for great suffering and agony-red with whispers of gold-and out of hope for the second coming. Am willing even to believe in the rapture if that will help.