I never, once in my life, that I can remember, have EVER got up at 5am and thought “Hey, it’s time to get up now! Let’s go face this awesome day!” OOOOhhhh no. My chronic reaction to that early morning hour is always “Must I get up? NO? Well then, let’s get on with sleeping!” And then I would sleep or attempt to.
Yesterday, five rolled around and my body was awake. REALLY awake. And I thought to myself “Hmm. Maybe I should get up?” Then I stopped short in my thoughts and considered that I may have just gone crazy. I remembered that I had a houseful of light sleepers and thought it was better if they all did not get up at 5am, so I stayed in bed until 7am. At which time, I surprised my husband by being functional. It was almost a miracle, really. Actually, it probably was.
So, I went through my day, amazed at the surge of energy that seemed to fill my body. I had some brief moments where I wondered if I would pay for it tomorrow, but I “enjoyed” shopping (that’s a whole other story) for the afternoon. I thought maybe instead of it being an elusive “good” day, it was a sign of my diet change having a positive effect. I was trying to find foods for the diet. It was harder than I thought…then I went home and found sick kids and a sick babysitter. Despite all of that, and moments of despondency over this eating thing and how hard it was, I found myself still able to cope after a very busy day. I rejoiced. Then I went to bed.
This morning, as my eyes attempted to open shortly before 8am and as my dear husband tugged at my blanket, I knew I was paying. And paying a big price.
But what could I do? On those surge days, I need to….really, really need to get stuff done!
To tell you the truth, I am sick and tired of the sick and tired days. I have to rest so often that “taking a day of rest” has become a statement I’d rather ignore. I have been sick with this, that or the other so often this fall/winter, that I am done with it. So done.
I have seen the disappointment in my childrens’ eyes too often, lately. We plan for something fun or maybe even ordinary, but different. Then, the day approaches and I can’t get out of bed. Or I can’t even think about driving anywhere.
Seeing the echo (because my heart is disappointed too) of dissatisfaction in their faces makes my heart shatter because I am causing this. I know I am not causing it and that it is happening to me, out of my control. I know that. But they are slowly accepting these days with a look that reflects disillusionment. I don’t want them growing up to think life is one big disappointment.
Maybe I even wonder if they think they would have been better off with another mother. Truthfully, this fear fills my heart so often. I have to cast that aside and take up confidence that Jesus loves them more than I and is in control. Our circumstances feel out of control, but he is watching it and has it all in his hands.
As my pain has increased my understanding and depth of faith, so will the pain of these disappointments cause their roots to grow deeper. I pray that their faith is as sturdy as an old tree. If I have to suffer to make that a fact, then suffer I will.
Jesus did. He suffered for ME…for YOU. For them.
In my humanness I think that, in healing me Jesus would get more work done for the kingdom of God. Maybe I’m wrong.