It's been a while.
Last night, I dissolved into tears because I had once again spent an entire day on the couch. Everything that I attached worth to--cooking, cleaning, decorating, creating, writing, mothering, reading--I was unable to do. I was so sick that even sitting upright while feeding my little baby was almost more than I could handle. Again.
For those who would like nitty-gritty details... My ulcerative colitis has calmed down. God has miraculously maintained my hemoglobin levels, and even though I've been more sick than ever, it does not appear to be affecting wee Elizabeth Wynne at all. For this I am grateful. However, the ulcerative colitis has manifested in an unusual and very irritating way. As opposed to isolating my inflammation to the colon, the ulcerative colitis has caused a systemic inflammation that has taken over my entire body. This inflammation mimics severe anemia. (Think: having a horrible flu... all the time.)
The upside: the meds seem to be working, and I'm having pockets of coherence and productivity. The downside? They are very little pockets, usually followed by a day or two of being completely horizontal.
So... during last night's deluge, I erupted into a massive pity party. The gist of this lame party was the irritation I felt at not being able to do a single productive task. I have this huge, beautiful home--and no energy to decorate. I am finally a stay at home mom--and I've only taken my child to the park once, and I never do play dates. I love to cook--no energy coupled with overwhelming nausea. I have a stack of books--most days the letters dance on the pages and I can't remember what I just read.
People can tell me it's a "season." Sure, it's like being stuck in February. FOREVER. People tell me I am being productive--I'm growing a small life. But what about those women who grow lives and also cook, clean, lead aerobics classes, run marathons, and star in TV shows? Why can't I grow a life like one of them? I have a highly inefficient oven, and last night, for whatever reason, I was exceptionally grouchy about it.
My husband was very understanding. He hugged me. He listened. He let me weep copious tears onto his shoulder. He even let me sprawl, uninhibited across the bed (even though I know he detests sprawling, and wishes I would just lay on the bed like a "normal" person). But at the end of all this sympathy, he changed to a tougher love.
"Courtney. Seriously. Stop. You're being ridiculous. I know this is hard. Trust me. But let's be honest. Your life could be a lot worse. You could be a Christian in North Korea."
In our family, "You could be a Christian in North Korea" is used frequently when your complaining has reached a fevered and irrational pitch. The thought of that misery and persecution is usually enough to make you stop griping about the price of paper towels, the traffic home, and the complete idiocy of your neighbors who don't want a privacy fence installed. It quickly brings your "suffering" into perspective.
But last night, I was not swayed. Without batting an eyelash, I said, "Yes, and I could also be a American Christian driving a Lexus and teaching spin classes during a perfectly healthy pregnancy." What followed was a brief, but snarky interlude in which I refused to see the glass as half-full, and steadfastly ripped all my husband's attempts at redirection to shreds.
Not my proudest moment.
Shortly after this I repented of my grumpiness and sarcasm (largely because I hate going to sleep feeling guilty), but my repentance was born more of habit than of genuine acknowledgement of wrong.
This morning, as I was wandering through Walmart picking up sundry items not to be found at Aldi, I kept staring a people's faces. Sad faces. Vacant faces. Angry faces. Stoic faces.
I am surrounded by miserable people. I'm not in North Korea. But people in Philadelphia don't exactly look like they're living in completed joy.
Horribly, awfully, totally miserable people. People miserable in their lives, surrounded by things that don't satisfy, trapped in relationships that are broken, caught in conflict they have no idea how to resolve. I don't live there.
Because of my Savior, I live next to hope. I have peace bubbling inside me. When I wake up in the morning, I'm automatically flooded with excitement and joy... every day is filled with goodness. The Gospel has taken all of the day's mundanity and filled it joy inexpressible.
A puddle of sunshine reminds me that God allows the sun to continue rising and setting.
A whiff of pumpkin spice sets my taste buds watering, as I'm blessed by God's provision.
A gurgle of laughter from my baby reminds me of the blessing of new life. God does not have to give us babies. If I was God, I would have stopped making babies a long time ago.
The ready forgiveness of my husband points me to the massive forgiveness enacted on the cross.
The feel of warm socks.
The creaminess of coffee.
The hugs from family.
The artwork of frost.
Every moment of every day is saturated with God. With His goodness. With handfuls of little blessings.
When was the last time you saw them? You acknowledged them? You grabbed them, tasted them... praised God for them?
Perhaps the problem with my Thursday was not my lack of health, or Lexus, or even North Korea... Perhaps the problem with my Thursday was my lack of gratitude.
Joy flows immediately from thankfulness.
In this month, we remember to be thankful. We post it on Facebook, we talk about it with others, we design kitchy Pinterest crafts to help the kiddies and family members focus on thankfulness.
But I would argue that to relegate gratitude to one month out of the year is the same as only taking multivitamins vitamins for one month of the year. It's a good thing you're doing it, but you'd be a lot healthier if you took them every day. Forever.
My challenge is finding things to be thankful for while horizontal on a couch... and it's not hard. The tree right outside my window is a gorgeous yellow. It's so funny to watch Grant pull himself up to the window and pound vigorously every time a truck passes. My blanket is warm and fuzzy. All my pants are stretchy and comfy (and no one judges the pregnant lady!). Apple cider is in season...
My blessings overflow.
My cup is more than half-full.
And joy comes quickly when I focus on the goodness of God.
 |
| My two men, who never cease to be blessings. |