My People

My People
My People - Cosette, Austin, Oliver, Cody, me & Ryan. Just think, had I not lived, these people wouldn't be on the planet. They are my whole heart!

Friday, December 21, 2012

Better

Another week has zipped by and I am happily anticipating another Yabba Dabba some time around 4:30 this afternoon.
"Around" because this being the last day I work before Christmas... experience has taught me that the days before a holiday tend to either be feast or famine.
Yesterday was feast.
But even in the madness I was so happy to be there.
I've spent so long apologizing for who I am and how I am.
Being in a place that not only accepts but appreciates me... makes me glad for every day at work. Are you tired of hearing how grateful I am?
Yesterday a cold rain fell most of the day... and I STILL had to go to the post office to mail my son's gift... there were no handicapped spaces available.... I thought to myself, "what are all these disabled people doing out in the rain?"... I parked farther away than I wanted and  was soaked to the skin by the time I made it into the post office, wetter still by the time I made it back to my car fifteen minutes later.
I thought about the warm Spring rain that frizzed my hair and matched my dark mood that day earlier this year when it seemed like so much was going wrong. Through my tears God whispered into my heart, "no weapon formed against you will prosper". I doubted those words. It's true. I doubted Him as time went by and doors kept being shut in my face and my self-confidence dwindled and it became clear that I wouldn't get to be where I wanted and how I wanted.
And yet, in this moment, it all seems right. It all makes sense.
What man brings against us, God uses for our good and His glory. Instead of letting a crushing blow be the final blow, it became a catalyst to what God had already worked out for me.
This has been a year of disappointments, heartaches, changes, frustrations...
And yet it has also been a year seasoned with so much Grace. Capital G.
My parents grew out of this little house in Riverdale about a week after moving in. Kids were added. Kids moved out. Grandkids moved in. Grandkids moved out. About twenty years ago we realized there was no longer room to have a big gathering here because there just wasn't enough space.
Small houses grow close families, they say. I just know that this year I was grateful to have a place to go home to... I spent all of my adolescence trying to punch my ticket out.... and all of my adulthood trying to prove that I could do it on my own... and yet, when the time came to come home it was a relief. All those burdens I carried for all of those years, trying to make a dollar out of fifty cents and trying to stretch myself far enough to be both parents... to finally be relieved of that obligation... to finally not have to worry about those things any more... to be able to come home... what a blessing.
But God always gives so much more than what we ask for or even deserve... to go from homeless to having two places to call home... to have my little nest down south and to have a huge gathering place as well... beyond anything I could have imagined.
I started this year recovering from horribly painful surgery. I didn't realize how traumatic that was until the anniversary of it rolled around... and I started seeing some of the same Christmas sets on Fox and Friends that were on when I was bed-bound and unable to do anything except stare at the tv in a pain-filled haze... just like when I hear the song, "Just another manic Monday"... which was popular when I was pregnant with Ryan and in the miserable throws of morning sickness (which, if I've never told you, is a lie... it lasts far beyond morning!)... to this day if I hear that song, I get nauseated. Seeing those same scenes from last Christmas season brought back the pain and isolation and gnawing fear that came with that recovery... and yet, here I am... I lived to tell about it, not that anyone really wants to hear those kind of details.
This year my sister-in-law lost her father. My son lost a friend. Twenty sets of parents lost a child. My grandmother lost her independence. My son gained his. Sorta.
There has been pain, deep, raw, emotional pain. Much has been lost, much has been gained.
I worry about our nation. I worry about the next generation.
The Mayans were wrong.
I won $100 by wearing an ugly Christmas sweater to my office Christmas party.
I opened a Christmas card that had a $25 Starbucks gift card in it.
I made less this year but have had more than I can remember having in any other year.
My family has loved and supported me this year, more than any other I can remember and yet, this year, I have had far less of myself to give.
I love my nest more and more as time goes by. So does Oscar, much to the consternation of Trouble.
I spent too much time in sitting doctors office waiting rooms and not enough time in sitting in church pews.
I have lost and gained weight so often that I never know from one week to the next which outfits will work and which won't.
This morning I am feeling sleepy and fatigued and nauseated and dizzy and having some crazy new pain in my right hip... but I still managed to get a load of laundry done before 9am and will, by the grace of God, make it through another work day this week and will love Yabba Dabba so much more because of it.
This year was nothing like I thought it would be.
It was so much better.

1 comments:

Back Porch Writer said...

Hope you have a wonderful Christmas and I'm so glad things have worked out. Congrats on the ugly Christmas sweater. I have worn some cheesy things this year just for fun. No contests. Like my sweatshirt that says Christmas calories don't count. lol