Journal for Christa—
On Friday I said, “I want to feel good by Monday.” She said, “You’ll feel good in 10 days.” As she wrote out the prescription, she continued: “In Europe they don’t treat sinus infections with antibiotics. They just let the body fight it off on its own. They feel good for a few days, then the virus gets the upper hand, and it goes back and forth until the body wins. It’s just that the whole process takes 3 or 4 months, and Americans aren’t patient enough to wait that long.”
Saturday Jay and I were at Walmart. The cashier was old, really old and slow. We felt bad for her. We figured she had to work, that she wasn’t able to retire. We did feel bad for her, but not so much to keep us from putting our purchases back into the cart and wheeling off to a longer line where we still got out sooner.
Yesterday at church, I talked to one lady to see if her husband still had a job. He does, but it’s just a week-by-week thing. Another friend only got 3 ½ days in last week. People waiting—waiting to see if their jobs will last. People worried about their children, they too were waiting this week—waiting to see if they’ll turn to God or continue down, down a bad path. It seems like everyone’s waiting on something.
I think waiting’s hard—but it’s Monday, and I feel good.