Let our hearts be thankful
The current state of our house–three laundry baskets full of folded clothes, yet to be stored away, two hampers full of dirty laundry, Nathan’s balls strewn about, unwashed milk bottles by the sink, a half eaten bag of potato chips, stacks of unopened mail–is a metaphor for our life. A mess.
I look at the mess that is my house that is my life. I remind myself:
My children and I have clothes to wear despite the endless piles of laundry.
I have food to eat as unhealthy as it may be.
I have my Nathan here to scatter his toys about.
I have my Justin here to feed from these bottles I must clean.
I have a milk supply and my health to care and clean for my children.
I have the financial security to pay for our bills.
I have my husband here to be upset at for not cleaning and contributing to the mess (hehe).
Everyday is thanksgiving day in our household–minus the turkey, roast beef, ham, and potatoes galore– with Nathan and Justin gracing our lives with theirs. We truly do not know what tomorrow will bring–ever. Just as Nathan overcame one fever and stomach bug a week ago, he caught another this week, now, with a runny nose and croupy cough. Then, there’s always his wheezing, eczema, and food allergies. Justin–well, his lips are turning bluer indicating the need for his second surgery soon. And, with that, are greater uncertainties. We are constantly aware of the frailty of their lives, and regardless of how overwhelming the circumstances with them or with work, family, or household condition may be, we pull ourselves through each moment of the day knowing that we still have that day. To live. For Us. For Them. As I stick a syringe full of medicine down Justin’s throat, I am thankful that he has only 4 medications to live by, and for the medications to help him live. The cries that irritatingly wake me from my two hour naps (no more slumbers for me) remind me that there is still breaths of air in those little bodies. The drama at work (for Loi) is consumed by the fact that he has a means to support his family. As small as our house may be, we do have a roof over our heads (and next to the beach, nonetheless!). Life was never guaranteed to be easy. We both knew that. We grew up having to work a little harder than the next person to achieve our goals–obtaining that “A” grade in a class, gaining respect in the office and within our own families. But, given our opportunities, coming from affluent families and are educated, life was never too much to bear. Even as we hit this major milestone with the birth of Justin, we’re able to handle each battle as it comes–in bits and pieces, and with the support of our families and of each other. No load is ever too much when broken into parts. So, I looked around my living room, with the clothes, toys, drinks, and food, I listened to the little grunts and snores coming from my men, big and small, and decided to use this time to clean. First went the folded laundry. Then, slowly, but surely, went the rest. Just when I’m ready to throw in the towel and go on my “why” tirades, I remind myself of each little blessing. These few weeks have been challenging–to my faith, spirit, body. Many times, I’ve asked myself why. And, more determined than ever, I really wanted to know why, and was trying every way to explain. But, reality is, no person knows…only He knows. As humans, we can only speculate, relying on science and sometimes feng shui to give us those answers as to why some have the fate they do. With each discovery or speculation is human error. Human error. And, with each error is greater discovery and gain of knowledge. Frustrated and resentful I may be from day to day, but my intuition tells me this “error” was meant to be. It’s strange to say, but I somehow always knew that my children would be something else, something extraordinary. And, the minor trials along the way have led me up to this point, allowing me to grasp the situation as I have. With this error, I’ve gained greater awareness of the downtrodden and greater acknowledgment of my blessings. I’ll still have those days–wondering why–because that is just a part of human nature–to wonder. But, for now, I’m surrendering all to Him. As blind sighted and naive as this may sound, I’m letting go and allowing my faith to lead the way. I’m allowing all things to be as it should.