I kept repeating it in my head: Mississippi mud pies, Mississippi mud pies. I encouraged my brain: you know these words; you know how to say them; you can do it. I whispered them to myself: mmmm iissss iissss iipppii mmmud ppiess.
A tear rolled down my cheek, and the doctor admitted me.
I heard a nurse tell another nurse that they had room for me in the closet. It was a little nicer than that. There were no windows in the little V-shaped room; it had no TV or wall light like a regular ward room, but it was quiet and even had a little table for my reading material.
A nice woman came to tell me that she was one of the managers there and that if I needed anything to let her know. How could I remember her name? I don’t remember her leaving a card. She was nice, but she spoke to me as if I were three years old. Did she not see the strong, assertive, young woman beneath my tousled gray hair? How many times had I spoken with the same voice to an elderly or disabled person?
I recently heard that we are not a body with a soul, but we are a soul with a body. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this as I’ve struggled through seizures and medications for the last six weeks. I went from working outside, readying my yard for winter, to a hospital bed—all in a matter of minutes. No wonder the Lord tells us that we do not control our plans.
I now realize how much I depended on my physical abilities to give me personal value. I could drive where I wanted to go (I have since lost my license); I could entertain or volunteer when I wanted to. I could go to the gym or make excuses for not going; I could shop, attend church, teach and even preach an occasional sermon. I could rise early in the morning and set out my day. All of this has changed. I hope it is a temporary change, but it may not be, and I know that for many others, they deal with weak bodies and changed lives for the rest of their lives.
Creator God gave me a valuable gift when He showed me that I did not have to be bound by my physical world. He set my spirit free. No one can change that. I can worship Him and I can enjoy His presence. I have plenty of time to pray.
He reminded me of a little song He gave me many years ago when our world was falling apart. He said:
Be still my child; be still
And know that I am God
I never will leave you;
nor will I forsake you
Be still my child; be still.
Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart (First Samuel 16:7). This is like a whole new adventure for me. I observe people differently now. I ask God to help me see beyond the wrinkles and wobbles and see the souls that He sees. I even wonder what elders looked like when they were 30. After all, that is how I see myself—until I look in the mirror.
( By the way, I have no idea why I picked the words “Mississippi Mud Pies”).
