I wonder if I am the only one who runs on a holiday high sea of emotions and then comes crashing down when January sets in?
It isn’t that I don’t like winter. In fact I delight in cold, crisp white winters and nothing could make me happier then a fresh snow and the purity of the white.
And yet this month could best be described for me emotionally as trying to swim through mud. I feel I am just trying to make it through; just trying to survive.
Where is my joy? Where is delight?
Yes, they have shown up at times this month- but I have found myself much more negative then the “me” I usually know.
My husband has been home this whole New Year on sick leave for his back. Somehow that gets me out of whack- like totally. He is here enough for me to need to rethink my schedule so we can get our plans coordinated for his doctor’s appointments which seems to pop up way too often. Yet he is in enough pain that he has spent most of the last month in bed- resting. Somehow this drives me crazy. . . (yes, I am horrible, I know).
Even writing that makes me feel self-conscious. But I guess I am used to being the home boss during the week. And now needing to plan our days and weeks in harmony is something we are still in need of learning to do better. And usually he is so active and it is hard to have him laid up.
I feel badly being so blue when I actually know I am so very blessed. I remind myself to rejoice and look for joy in thankfulness. And though it is a battle for joy- joy is also a choice, isn’t it?
A choice to trust HIM, a choice to trust that HE is providing when it seems our funds are disappearing into thin air over doctor bills and medicines. A choice to look for the good and be thankful even when I don’t feel like.
Our oldest boy (now 6) struggles a lot with his attitude. He doesn’t want to do his homework or practice the violin. He doesn’t want to go to lessons, etc. He only wants to play Legos and just do his own thing. I badger and threaten (to suspend his Legos for a day). I rally and encourage him to do his best. . . and somehow we plod on.
Then I stop and examine my own attitude and see myself in my boy. I too constantly struggle with attitude. Not wanting to do this, not wanting to do that; pushing myself to do what I must. I pout, I grumble, I react instead of responding. I hang my head sadly, knowing that my boy is mirroring me -(even when I keep it hidden inside- attitude somehow seeps out).
And so we struggle on- some days with heavy hearts; some days soaring and I cling to these words from Isaiah 40:31
but they that wait upon the shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint.