Recently I finished reading a memoir from a young mother’s life whose “cute-little-yellow-house-with-a-white-picket-fence” plan didn’t turn out as she had dreamed it would. Through many rough patches it turned out even better because of the woman she is now after having gone through heartache. It got me thinking…. I am a cup-half-full person, even if there are only a few drips left in the cup. I usually write about happiness and marshmallows and rainbows and adoption and vacations and chocolate and artwork and all the lovely things that make me smile….. BECAUSE I’m a cup-half-full person. (And gardening and thrift shopping and playhouses and chicken coop construction!) After reading Bloom, I realized that hurting people relate to hurting people. A bond is created when you realize that someone else has been here (horrible!) and gone through this (difficult x 10!) and survived (amazing!)…. and still smiles and laughs.
I have not come out on the “still smiles and laughs” side of the little fender bender that was 11 months ago today. And I feel like a whiner when I see others who have gone through horrific rehabilitation, or illness, or the loss of someone they love, and circumstances so much worse than my aching arm. But an achy arm has altered my life and I am not through the fire yet. For a while, mid-October, it was seemingly better. But now, mid-February, I’m back to 24/7 pain. A royal pain in the arm! This is why my blogging has slowed to a snail’s pace… slower than molasses in January. Constant pain wears on your brain. It is exhausting. I refuse to touch the pain meds again, as the horrific “coming clean” five-day-episode is burned in my mind as something I never want to experience EVAH again. So I do a little less than I used to. I’m in the slow lane. And I’m more emotional than per-usual.
Last night I came THIS CLOSE to not having enough energy to get myself ready to go to church. Then I sucked it up and brushed my teeth and hair… and went in the same jeans and pink t-shirt that I had been wearing for two days. I was holding up so well until a friend asked how I was feeling… and the dam broke and I was a pitiful teary-eyed mess. “Tonight, it’s bad,” I replied through quivering lips. Normally, I’m not like this… whimpering and soggy… and it’s hard to accept the “momentary me.” But sometimes life stinks… and there is pain… and you cry when you don’t want to.
Like the author of the book I mentioned, I hope to come through this with a fiery zeal that will spurn others on through tough times. I want to be the one bringing meals, and running errands for friends, and dropping by to help with housework. I feel like my sunshine is missing, well, because it is. I need to sing a few rounds of Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on me!
So hang in there if you are holding on by a thread. Life ebbs and flows… comes and goes… and the clouds do have a silver lining. God is still on the throne and still loves me and you! He is a constant through this mess and that knowledge does my heart good!
Come on and sing with me, Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on me! Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, hiding behind that tree. This whiny mother is asking you, to please come out so I can play with you. Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on, please shine down on, please shine down on me!
My Sister's Jar 