My temp is up, my face is pale, and my stomach is aggitated. The virus my daughter hosted last night has come to visit me today. I am annoyed and, at various times throughout the day, on the verge of tears.
I hate being sick. First of all, I feel like a failure. If I were truly a woman of faith, I'd have authority over this illness, and it would be banished before Anna's temp ever went over 99 degrees. If I were a real woman, I wouldn't let this annoying thing keep me supine on the couch. I'd just push through, get stuff done, and laugh in victory.
However, my temp is over 99, and the bug is still here, and frankly, if I don't lie supine on the couch, my face goes from pale to green.
Second, I had plans. The children and I were going to clear the part of the yard where we are putting in a flowerbed. We soaked the water last night so the roots would be easy to pull up. The ground is ready. Then tonight, I was finally going to have another tennis lesson. I haven't had one in a month because of a variety of things, and I was so excited...then I had to cancel.
Then, in the midst of my near-tears pity party, a prayer I've prayed many times came back to mind.
"Lord, I don't ever want to be your spoiled child who is ungrateful for what you give just because I didn't get exactly what I want."
I'm upset because I didn't get to prepare the ground for the flowerbeds. There are people who never get to see a flower either because their physical eyes are damaged or because their lives are barren. We can prepare the ground in a few days. Will others suddenly have the ability to see then? Will their lives suddenly be filled with color?
I whine about not hitting a tennis ball when there are people today who have no use of their hands, who cannot stand up, who struggle to remember the word "ball". Today I was able to work on laundry, help with schoolwork, and iron pants. Tomorrow will hands be regrown? Will legs grow strong? Will the mind become firm?
Oh, God...have mercy on my self-centered existence. Forgive me for focusing on the unimportant things that can be done later...or not done at all...and no one's world will be the better or worse. Thank you for reminding me that while I am blessed with many frills in life, there are those who would be so thankful for the "basics". And I am grateful, too.
Thank you, Lord.
802. My hands can hold a ball, type on the keyboard, hold my husband's hand, and wipe away my children's tears.
803. My body fights viruses on its own.
804. Our yard is green, even if it is mostly weeds right now.
805. For amazing children who bless me with peaceful naps when my body needs them
806. That you've never called me a failure.
807. Faith is a journey, and I am learning and growing as I go.
808. Grace covers me when I don't perform as well as I wish.
809. Austin, tennis coach extradinaire, who is the epitome of patience and grace
810. Coaches that are soft for my body.
811. Fred, our Lab-experiment, who wags his tale when I pat him, even when my patting him is for my comfort.
812. Rob was the hero of the day cooking dinner so I didn't have to smell it.
813. Dry toast. Oh, Lord, thank you SO much for dry toast.
814. Ice cream.
815. Cool wash cloths.
816. I can walk to the couch on my own power, and if I want to get up, I can do that, too.
817. Lord, I love automatic washing machines and dryers. Oh, I love having them in my house so I don't have to go to a laundromat.
818. Thank you for asnwering my prayers, especially ones that stretch me and cause me to get out of myself. You are so faithful, and I am undone.