I’m trying to count my blessing today. For I have a lot of blessings. I wonder though, is it okay to acknowledge the tough things without discounting the blessing? There are some things that are weighing heavy on my shoulders today and while I prefer to dwell on the happy things in this little space, these are the words that come right now.
It’s hard watching my baby girl reaching for something a good five inches from where it actually is. It’s hard watching her listening for my voice because she is too unsure to crawl. And its hard looking at her little face that no longer looks like her because her eyes have changed so much from the surgery. I’m afraid that we made the wrong choice of procedure and that more harm than help was done. It makes me feel like a really crummy mama.
The Dr. had warned us that it would get a lot worse before we would know if it was better but even warned, I was completely unprepared. He says that her eyes will straighten, the eyelids open and it will get better. I am sure that he is right and it will get better, but I’m afraid it won’t.
I have a dear friend in Israel who is on my mind much these days. Thinking of her there brings the hurt in that part of the world so much closer. I don’t pretend to have deep political understanding of the situation, I only know that there are many, including my friend and her family, who are in the midst of dark, weary unrest.
In the light of the last two this one seems pretty trivial but my house feels like it is in constant disorganization that I seem unable to get on top of. Every time I feel like I am starting to get a handle on it, something happens (like Kathleen’s surgery and her present needs) that puts me so far behind again.
I want to stand tall, facing life with strength and dignity but today, I find myself down on the mat, tapping out.
And the hardest part is that life doesn’t stop. I want it to pause or at least slow so that I can take time to catch my breath but it just keeps marching. Tummies still need filling, laundry still needs folding, little minds and hearts still need guiding, and dishes still need washing. Today the sun had the nerve to keep shining.
And even as I felt the weight and the dark, I just kept being reminded that just because I feel the darkness, the brightness isn’t absent. The brightness of Life is still present, touching me. Even today, it danced in two little sets of ballet slippers, it warmed with a crackling fire, and shone from a still smiling baby face. And perhaps in the onslaught of dark, the light just shines that much brighter.
Friends, lets face the dark and embrace the light together shall we? What is heavy on you today? What is shining bright?