I’m not gonna sugarcoat this: Life is hard. I mean, it’s hard. And it’s easy to slip into the “I have it harder than you do” mentality. Trust me. Been there, done that.
It’s not much of a surprise that I’ve been pretty bitter about Life’s Lemons. Long-term unemployment. Chronic injuries. Financial fiascoes. Throw in the struggles of family and friends, and my heart is heavy with the weight of the world.
When we were young, my older brother was a wise-cracking, joke-telling genius. One of his favorites (that for some reason I played along with every time, even though I knew the ending) was when he’d say, “I can teach you a foreign language. Repeat after me.”
“Owah. Ta-jer. Kay-yam.”
Now. You say it. Out loud. Fast. Faster.
Get it now?
Here. Let me change the spelling a little bit for you:
One more time. A little more clearly.
“OH, WHAT A JERK I AM.”
Yup. That’s it. And that’s me.
I’m the Queen of the Party. The Pity Party, that is. I can feel sorry for myself quicker than you can nod your head. And it comes oh-so-naturally, I don’t even know I’m doing it.
Maybe it’s because I’ve always been more sensitive than others. Maybe it’s because I feel things deeper and harder and stronger and longer than others. Maybe I overthink or underthink or just don’t think at all.
Maybe it’s just me.
I haven’t been sleeping well for a few nights. The worries float around keeping my eyes busy with visions of things yet to come. Noise isn’t a distraction, and silence isn’t soothing. I just can’t seem to sleep very well.
So by the time I was functioning this morning, I had to remind myself that I wasn’t sick, I wasn’t angry, there wasn’t anything wrong. I was just tired. Just tired. Nothing else. And when I took the other non-possibilities out of the equation, the day seemed easier to manage.
I could drive, go to the grocery store, balance the checkbook, make dinner, clean house… all those things I didn’t want to do but should do. I did them. Because being tired isn’t an excuse to not take care of business. I wouldn’t call in sick to work just because I was tired. And right now, home is my work. And I’m the boss. I did not give myself a sick day.
And for that, I’m thankful. I’m really thankful. And I want it to show.
I still have my house. I still have my car. Dot is a full-time college student. I have family and friends. We have our health. And we have food in the house.
With all of these blessings, it struck me that I was still asking God for more than I was thanking Him for.
How’s that for gratitude?
Do I really trust Him to provide for me if I’m whining about not having milk for one day? We were able to put a full tank of gas in the car yesterday. I’m thankful we could afford it. When I ask God to give us our Daily Bread, is it honoring to Him for me to wish for more than what’s on the table? Instead of complaining that cleaning out the fridge is not our favorite meal, I’ve become extremely thankful that we have food in the fridge to begin with.
God is doing a most wonderful job of taking care of us. In ways I’m not even aware of; in ways I’ll probably never know.
I woke up this morning. In my own home with my family around me.
I’d say I’m pretty blessed.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
“Give Us This Day…”
The Adventures of Will Power and the Basket of Blessings
My Thanksgiving List