The Shivers

Some days are better than others.  Today was a good day.  Yesterday, not so much.

I know it’s partly hormonal, partly anxiety, but I occasionally get what I’ve named, “the shivers.”  It’s a heart-pounding, catecholamine-pouring, fight-or-flight, run around shreiking or collapse in lung-wrenching sobs kind of thing.  Most uncomfortable.

I got the shivers driving home from work yesterday.  Jerry, like the rock of a husband he is, always comes out to the garage to meet me if he’s home first.  He found me bawling and blathering complete nonsense.

Among the completest of the nonsense was this:  “I will die and go to heaven and I don’t want you to be alone and you need to marry a wonderful woman but then when you and she die and go to heaven then I’ll be all jealous that she’s there with you.”

Give me strength.  I’m embarrassed now just thinking about it.

Jerry didn’t miss a beat.  “It’s OK, honey,” he said, “I’ll marry a sinner so she can’t come.”

And I laughed.  The shivers retreated, chastened and rebuked.

“A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.” Proverbs 17:22, New Living Translation

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