I write and speak about thankfulness often. Each night my children and I fold our hands together and say all the things we are thankful for, it is followed by a sweet little series of God Bless, where they bless everyone from “our one-eyed cat” to the homeless people we pass on the street. But lately, the truth is, I think my own thankfulness has become robotic and superficial, rather than deep and meaningful. It is a strange experience to feel like your greatest dreams have come true, yet with those dreams come a level of exhaustion and a slight feeling of being overwhelmed by how big and how important the task is, both of which can leave you paralyzed and ungrateful. Add to that each day there are many reminders of the horrors my children have lived with, horrors as I explained to my mum, that no parenting book prepares you for. Horrors which are suddenly right at the surface, being told to you as you drive the car, drop off at school or are making dinner. And three weeks in it hit me when I suddenly found myself crying in the car, how much reponsibility I have riding on my own two shoulders and I finally admitted how vulnerable that makes me feel. And for the first time, I find it easy to see why people who have more challenges often become bitter; when you are exhausted and trying to hold your family up on your own two shoulders, it can be hard to listen to friends who complain they are poor, yet they have triple your income, own a home, are renovating their kitchen, just came back from a Cruise, are talking about where to invest this year. It can be hard to hear people complain about laundry, when they have a working washer and dryer in the next room. It can be hard to hear people tell you you should go for a massage because your neck is so stiff you can’t turn it and your shoulder is out, when a massage takes money away from your family’s needs and would require child care. And then suddenly, by admitting just how exhausted I feel and how wrong the direction of my thoughts are, I see light at the end of the tunnel, I remember it is OK to battle, like Paul continually reveals through scripture. And as I pray about it, I begin to see how far I and we have come and remember we are one day closer to life being a bit easier. And how each day gives me a whole new chance to make it right and begin again, this time leaving behind selfish thoughts, bitterness and guilt.
“I’m not what I want to be. I’m not what I should be. I’m not what I one day will be in Heaven. But I thank God I’m not what I once was” John Newton.
I’m OK. We’re OK. And despite being up 5-6x a night, a workload that is scary, a shoulder and neck that leave me yelping in pain, a communal washer/dryer, a feeling of constant sickness simply due to exhaustion, I can now honestly say I’m thankful. I’m thankful it is OK to face an emotional battle, it’s OK to admit you are vulnerable, it’s OK to ask God to help you put one foot in front of the other and it’s OK if for a time, that is all you can do. And with the deepest soul-filled gratitude I’m thankful for my children, my God and the fact my daughters nightmares seem to be over {for tonight} and I can now go back to sleep for another hour or so.
Today I hope no matter what battle you are facing, you allow yourself to admit it.
!]
