Do you ever have a day when afterwards you can’t believe you actually got through it in one piece? Saturday was one of those days for me, or had the potential to be anyway.
Around 5 pm on Friday Alexa suddenly fell ill. We had just got home from the park and I was running around trying to get ready for friends who were arriving around 6, when I realised that she was sitting on the top step wimpering. She was burning hot and all floppy and limp, and I laid her in our bed. Within five minutes she was asleep and she slept on and off until about 11pm. After that it was pretty good mayhem until dawn, when I had to get up and drive to a tiny hamlet in the Cotswolds to speak at a women’s breakfast.
The first miracle was that I didn’t crash the car on the way there. Being Saturday morning the roads were empty, so my drifting and swerving and generally poor control of the car and my own body didn’t kill anyone. And then, when I arrived I put away a huge plate of cooked breakfast and found that after the introduction I was able to stand up and speak.
By the end of the morning I felt that God had really used me- inspite of, or perhaps because, I was not in any fit state to say anything without a substantial amount of support. And I had some really lovely chats with people afterwards, which made me feel affirmed and almost glad that I have been through depression because of the connection I can now make with other people going through it.
There were some other reasons that Saturday was challenging, but more on that in due course. You will have to keep checking in on the blog if you want to get to the bottom of the mystery…