Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Unwritten Stories

Today was a challenging day for me. I am ashamed to say that I gave in and wallowed in self-pity for the afternoon. I learned this morning that if you want to show your new baby to your hairdresser, you take a picture, not the baby, to your appointment. I also learned that when said baby finally falls asleep in the car, you go home instead of trying to visit the great-gramma. After that I learned that when your daughter cries while watching Ratatouille because she's afraid the mouse will die, you turn the movie off instead of asking her if she wants to keep watching it anyway.

I actually thought I was going to recover emotionally from the salon fiasco when I pulled up to pick up my daughter from preschool. An image came to my mind of a woman I recently met who has a five-month-old daughter with a very rare syndrome and requires a feeding tube to eat, among other complications. I thought that she would much rather trade challenges with me. Then I thought of the young woman I know who just lost her husband and is pregnant with their second child. At least I have a husband who will come home tonight and comfort me about what happened.

But a few more challenges pushed me to the edge and I just gave up on the day. I snuggled on the couch with my children and watched part of the movie, which we later changed to Maisy. Then I made Rice Krispie Treats and continued to wallow.

Where did I go wrong? I had a choice to make. I almost made the right one. I almost started to see my plight in a proper perspective. I almost was able to laugh at it. But I didn't quite get there. I didn't pray enough or have enough faith or something. I slid backward just as I was about to pull myself up over the cliff. Then my husband took my daughter to gramma's house and my son fell asleep. I cleaned up a little and then started writing it out. I glanced at facebook and was reminded of a dear friend who has gone through some really serious trials. Trials that mine pale in comparison to. Her life reminded me again of the earlier thoughts I had about people who are experiencing such greater trials than me.

Sure, I am having a bit of a hard time. (In case you can't tell from my last few posts).

But I would be a fool not to fall on my knees in gratitude and thanksgiving every single day for the trials that have not come my way. There is a Hilary Weeks song which I will quote here.

“More than all the chapters of my life,
I'm thankful for what's not in black and white.
For the roads I never traveled,
For the pain I never knew,
For the places that you kept me from,
Father, I thank you.
For the days that were not wasted,
For the years not spent in vain,
I'm grateful for the stories that remain
Unwritten.”

The Lord had to point it out to me in several ways, but as the day ends, I am thankful for what I have. And what I don't.

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