Glorious morning

Because I feel like it:

"Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness; come before him with joyful songs. Know that the Lord is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture."

I sit in my wonderful hospital bed this glorious morning. The sun is as bright as a new idea for comedy by Jimmy Fallon. My understanding is it's cool outside and crisp.

I felt like grabbing the laptop and writing.

So, I did.

Sometime this morning, afternoon, or evening (I try not to narrow the times any longer), I will go home. I will see my pets, my bed, my pillow, my television for the first time in 13 days. I will walk away from this hospital feeling well. My lungs are good, or as good as they've been in three months. My legs, weak but working. My back pain manageable despite 13 days in the bed.  My heart is now working at the rate it's supposed to be.

All in all, the oil change I've undergone with new meds for lungs, for heart, for anxiety, for tap dancing ... wait, wait, I didn't get the tap-dancing meds. ... has me up and ready to go. I'm going to eat better (which will not be hard to manage but hard to do), walk some (let's not go nuts here) and so forth.

But today, this brilliant, beautiful day, I choose to simply shout to the Lord. He is my strength. He is my anchor. He is my love and my life. Had I died from this, Mary would have been blessed. Now that I live, Mary and I are blessed. We have healthy adult children, healthy grand kids (with the numbers growing). We are blessed and blessed and filled with the gladness of the Lord.

Today I sing my joyful song. Today I reach out for Him. Today I get ready to do what I do, what I believe I'm called to do. Today is the day the Lord has made. Let all of you, all of us, be glad in it.