This must be anti-wallowing week! What is it about February that induces the blues like no other month on the calendar? Yes, it’s cold. Yes, it’s gray. But, come on, it’s only
28 29 days. How bad can it be?
Well, for an experienced wallower, it can be pretty bad, can’t it?
And I’ll admit, I’ve been a wallower this morning. I woke around 8am. I always feel the worst right when I wake up. Every joint and muscle aches, and I feel somehow attached to my bed. It typically takes me 30-60 minutes to convince myself that I will feel better once I get out from between the sheets. Today it took closer to 90. I didn’t have to stay in bed, but I chose to lie there, read Facebook, Twitter, and email, and take my turn on a dozen or more games of Words With Friends.
That, my friends, is professional-level wallowing.
I am not saying that to judge anyone out there with chronic illness — I know it’s rough, and I know that sometimes bed is where you need to be — I am just saying that for me, today, my first 90 minutes were spent wallowing.
It sounded something like this: “I don’t feel good. I ache. I’m tired. I’ll just lie here a few more minutes. I don’t have anywhere to go this morning anyway. My first appointment is at 3. I need the rest. I’ll get up soon.”
Thank goodness I have a bladder. It recognized the situation and fired off a red alert. “Emergency! Emergency! You need to get out of bed now!!” I can always count on my bladder. It forces me to pause in my wallowing.
Once I had taken care of the first order of business, I made my smoothie and my tea, and I sat down to my work for the day. I was able to help a student on a couple of documents she needs to submit for a class and interact with a few friends on Facebook before I got a notification from a friend reminding me that my husband had given the message today at Concordia’s chapel service.
And then I was tempted to resume wallowing. “Seriously, Kristin, you couldn’t get yourself up and dressed in time for a 10:30 chapel service? What’s the matter with you? You aren’t that sick! Stop wallowing!” You got it, my wallowing was perpetuating more wallowing!
And right then I had a choice — go down that path, or turn.
Today, I turned. If you’ve been reading this blog for any amount of time, you will know that I was once again ‘shocked’ that my Bible study for today directly applied to this situation. The words “I’m sorry” jumped right off the page at me. Of course there were many other words, but I think “I’m sorry” was bolded and in 24pt font. And what am I sorry for?
I’m sorry that I have forgotten to be content in all circumstances. I’m sorry that I have forgotten the blessing of this next chapter — yes, I am not the person I once was, but that gives me an opportunity to not be the person I once was. You know what I mean?
I am no longer functioning at my best when I leap out of bed at 5:30am to conquer the world and everyone in it for fourteen or more hours. I am now at my best when I amble into my day at a slower pace, when I notice who is posting what on Facebook, when I am aware of what is happening in the world, when I can offer encouraging words to a graduate student I have never met face to face, when I can sit next to my dog, read a devotion, and reflect on the thoughts I am having and the way I am feeling.
I didn’t take the time for any of that in previous chapters. I was busy trying to achieve, trying to manage it all, trying to be perfect.
I needed to pause from my wallowing this morning to remember that I was not meant to be “be-perfect”; I was meant to be “beloved”.
I am beloved even when I wallow. I am beloved when I stop wallowing. Nothing I do can change the fact that I am beloved.
be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”