My body aches in an all-over kind of way, and I struggle to shift into
some position that will bring comfort. It is a vain attempt. Bone-weary,
tired to the core, unable to sleep. Throbbing pain makes me keep vigil.
A
vague annoyance, a slight despair envelops as I witness the world
around me, continuing to go on as normal. Nothing slows to meet me, and I
can not catch up. Perhaps, I say to nurturing husband, perhaps this is
the only time I really feel we have possibly too many children. When I
am sick.
The chaos, the rollicking and laughter and messes and
fun and craziness of my life is a joy, and most days my heart is so full
to overflowing I hardly can contain it. But sickness saps my strength,
my joy, and I wonder who will make the meals or wash the clothes or
change the sheets. Who will say prayers with the babies at naptime and
put band-aids on owies that don't really need them but they bring
comfort anyway, and who is going to offer gentle words when someone gets
frustrated (perhaps even husband?)
Being sick makes me feel helpless and frustrated. I feel I can not really get sick, everyone just needs me too much.
I watch husband try to be mom
and dad and see the strain, and think I must get better fast, and lay in
my bed and stress. And I have medicine and pray it will work
because I really don't feel any better at all.
I suppose we learn things from being taken care of, from being helpless, that we can not learn from caring for, from helping. Perhaps these are the hardest lessons to truly learn.
As
my children bring me my water with lemon, the way I like it, and my
husband brings me medicines and teas and tries to keep things quiet so I
can rest, I offer thanks. And struggle to learn some of the harder
lessons in life...
Things I am grateful for:
Learning to trust God to take care of what I can't.
Warm compresses.
Essential oils. Especially lavender, in my bath, on my compresses, in body oil.
Mail. I have always loved getting little things in the mail, even more
so when I lay in bed all day. It is something to look forward to.
Letters from family, friends, and little packages from my father to the
children.
Laughter. I just love hearing it while I am laying
in bed back here, the children laughing with their father, watching
some silly show on tv together.
Prayer. He is closer than my next breath.
New books to keep my mind busy while my body must be still. Currently
on the nightstand: My Bible and Beth Moore Bible Study on David- A Heart Like His, A Year of Biblical Womanhood, Red Letter Revolution, Searching For God Knows What and Jesus + Nothing = Everything.
Gingerbread. Nigella Lawson's recipe for gingerbread with lemon icing
is divine, and my husband has made it for me and served it with tea in
the evenings while he snuggles in bed with me.
Both awareness
and oblivion. Awareness from my older children that mama is not feeling
well, followed by tender expressions, touches and gestures, and lots of
ssshhhhhing when the younger ones are loud. Oblivion from the babies,
who have no idea anything is different, and who offer up happy smiles
and coos and just want to be held and loved.
Sleep.
~amy danielle
Praying for lots of lavender-gingerbread-laughter-tea filled days...and a lot less pain. <3
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