Yesterday I was feeling discouraged. I wrote down all my discouragement with every intention of posting it today. My words were full of self-pity and indignation because, dangit, I wanted people to know that I was hurting.
This morning I deleted that post.
Not that it changes how I felt yesterday. Honestly, I’m still feeling a little discouraged. I’ve been trying really hard in a lot of aspects of my life, but it seems most of my efforts are either unnoticed or ineffective. It’s frustrating. I’m tired.
Last night as I lay in bed listening to David snore, I remembered a discussion I had with my young women at church last week. While talking about ways to better endure our trials, I had suggested they ask themselves a few things:
- What can I learn from this experience?
- How might this experience help others?
- How can I change my circumstances?
- What blessings can I see in my life?
- How can I let God help me through this?
I’m still working out most of the answers. (Although I can definitely say I’ve learned that pink eye does not go away as quickly as I had initially believed. David has it now. Yay.) In fact, I’ll probably be pondering this for a while yet. I am slow to learn, impatient for change, and unwilling to ask for help.
This morning I can see so many blessings. Our upcoming Midwest adventure is shaping up nicely. I didn’t kill anyone yesterday, thanks to good music, good medication, and an impulse buy from J Crew. We have clean towels in the bathroom and clean sheets on all the beds. There’s still a piece of double chocolate banana bread on the counter waiting for me, and at least I don’t have pink eye. Despite my mistakes and neglect and ignorance, things are blooming and growing and surprising me daily.
Each morning sun that shines on my world reminds me that, no matter how dark it feels sometimes, it truly is bright and beautiful here.