Fault Line

The earth beneath my feet is quaking.
I believe I have pitched my tent right on the fault line.

Who could have known the Latin I learned in middle school would save my life in college Biology? The only way I can wade through my notes is to know that a lysosome means "a broken body" (lysos- to break, think Lysol). My hippie professor has ceased to be the happy-go-lucky tree hugger I imagined. I keep waiting for her to laugh. But I think she's thinking too hard about neurons.

Who could have known that I would be such a nomad. Having to adjust to so many new bedrooms, addresses, and driveways? In two and a half months I will be moving again. Into an apartment. I haven't lived in an apartment since before the third daughter was born... when our neighbors had a German Shepherd and we would sled down the hill in a plastic swimming pool. This time around I'm going to get a cat. From the pound. I was fantasizing about buying cat food today...

Who could have known that finding money to pay for college could cause such panic and stress? I've never been in want. Not really. Last time I ran out of money and didn't have enough to buy food... a fifty dollar bill was mailed from Norway. Somehow, my education will get paid for. And when all is said and done, and I hold a diploma in my hand, it will be a double blessing. Not only will I have earned a degree, but I will have paid for it as well.

Who could have known that after all these years of declaring I would 'get out of Kentucky', God would have clearly told me to stay here. For now. As a business major. Instruction dropped so evidently in my lap I could not ignore it. Although I heaved an audible sigh just thinking about horses and bluegrass. But already He has done some things to alter my perception of this town... immersing the campus with a little bit of culture, helping me find a place to rest, to laugh.

Or that after years of being told to be a counselor, a journalist, an OT... I would be making plans to open a coffee shop?

Tuesday was September 11th. Six years ago the Twin Towers in New York City were destroyed. Six years ago I was on my way to Shriner's Hospital. And the life I knew would fall around my feet. Surgery at thirteen years old... a blessing in disguise. A battle nonetheless. I still bear the scars. Who could have known that that day would change so many lives? That two stainless steel rods could eventually be a part of my testimony.

On nights like tonight the earth is rocking beneath my feet, and the light in my oil lamp is flickering.... the world is slipping, heaving, trying to throw me to my feet....

I know that the dust will settle. You see, it always does.

And for that I am thankful.