J, having SUCH a great attitude:
sick...
so sweet, Henry picked this little spot next to Daddy :)
watchin' a show
I've been feeling this post brewing for a little while. Sometimes I feel myself taking things in, learning, processing, and I can tell when the need to write is drawing closer...
I've been having attitude issues of late :( Some dear friends of mine, and my sweet husband (my closest friend!) have had some wise words for me, and God and I are working on sorting me out! My wrong-attudes have been revealed through the wave of sickness that has knocked most of our little family flat on the couch this week.
Henry got it first, and though I needed to cancel EVERYTHING on my agenda (notice that phrase, "my agenda") for the next few days, it was sweet caring for him. Henry and I spent 3 whole days snuggled up on the couch together, and a handful of nights with him in his pack-n-play pushed right up against my side of the bed, with him often asking for "uppa" throughout the night. I would lift his sweaty, warm body out of his bed and lay him next to me, trying to find the right mix between sweet snuggles and sharing too much body heat. Henry was really good about drinking water, I often had to refill his water bottle, even at night. After a few days his fever broke, and he was left with just a sore, scratchy little voice. My favorite thing he's said with it: " Mommy? ...a wuffin?" (asking for a muffin in the morning)
Almost exactly four days after Henry got "the sickies", I got it. It was kinof inevitable, with him leeched to me night and day, and I wasn't surprised when I felt it coming. I was NOT, however, prepared for how hard it hit me! The first evening I knew I felt feverish, and went to bed early. I did NOT sleep that night, because I felt so awful... The next morning I called in backup (my Mom!!), and she came from 9-5 to help me with the boys. I rested on the couch that day, being present but trying not to share my newly acquired germs. I thought by the evening that the worst had passed, and I went to bed hopeful. ...however. I nearly passed out on the way to the bathroom that night, and when I woke up the next morning I felt like a raisin: too warm too long... shriveled up. I called my mom again, and decided to drive to her house for the day. We only live about 20 minutes apart, and by half way there I realized I should not have been driving. (I almost stopped at a green light...) With some prayers and God's grace we made it there, I took the boys inside, and crashed in my parents' bed for the WHOLE day. I slept as much as I could make my body, and took what nibbles my stomach would permit. My husband beat me home that evening and cleaned up the toys, etc, I had let the kids leave. He also replenished toilet paper to the bathrooms, laid out the kids' PJs, did the dishes... I kept finding more little things he had done around the house. What a sweet man! After those two days, I was able to drag myself around the house a bit, on my feet for about 10 minutes max at a time.
...and exactly 4 days after I got it, Jonathan measured 100.0F on our thermometer.
My attitude had started to show through part way through my sickest days. I started to feel discouraged at not feeling the healing process begin, and I even verbalized some red flags a few times, "...if I'm not better by Sunday, I think I might be a little mad having to miss Church again" , and "if Jonathan gets it now, we're DOOMED!"
Jonathan has been such a trooper. "I'm willy sick, Momma", he says. He wants me close-by, and has enjoyed watching "Despicable Me" (becoming his new favorite movie?).
As I was putting the kids to bed the other night, in a hot house, with hot kiddos, and hot self... my attitude came to the surface. Hot tears came because I was mad that I would have to miss church again, mad that I wasn't getting better, and mad about other selfish desires that I won't get into. I sat upstairs outside the boys' room and chatted with a dear friend who is rich with wise words, and read another dear friends' blog, in which she pours out her desires to God in such a selfless, God-honoring way... then I became mad at how selfish I was being! "Sometimes it's so hard to wrassle down my selfish heart!", I told my husband. He talked and talked with me, talking me gently into choosing the attitude I knew was right.
First of all, my children are a privilege. God gifted me with them, and it's humbling to know that other people who deserve SO much more, are still faithfully waiting. And there I was, complaining about what I would have to miss to care for my sick children, and complaining about being sick myself. I started out treasuring the time I got to spend caring for this sickness... and as it got tough, instead of leaning on the Lord (Who is my Strength!), I allowed myself to get frustrated and discouraged.
God, forgive me, I so easily forget to run to You...
We aren't done being sick yet. Jonathan is only on day 2 of what appears to be about 8 days long, and I'm on day 6 but feeling like I could use some anti-biotic help. Please pray... of course for healing. But also that Josh would be spared (he works so hard to provide!), and that I would draw my strength from Him to finish the race I have begun!
sick...
so sweet, Henry picked this little spot next to Daddy :)
watchin' a show
I've been feeling this post brewing for a little while. Sometimes I feel myself taking things in, learning, processing, and I can tell when the need to write is drawing closer...
I've been having attitude issues of late :( Some dear friends of mine, and my sweet husband (my closest friend!) have had some wise words for me, and God and I are working on sorting me out! My wrong-attudes have been revealed through the wave of sickness that has knocked most of our little family flat on the couch this week.
Henry got it first, and though I needed to cancel EVERYTHING on my agenda (notice that phrase, "my agenda") for the next few days, it was sweet caring for him. Henry and I spent 3 whole days snuggled up on the couch together, and a handful of nights with him in his pack-n-play pushed right up against my side of the bed, with him often asking for "uppa" throughout the night. I would lift his sweaty, warm body out of his bed and lay him next to me, trying to find the right mix between sweet snuggles and sharing too much body heat. Henry was really good about drinking water, I often had to refill his water bottle, even at night. After a few days his fever broke, and he was left with just a sore, scratchy little voice. My favorite thing he's said with it: " Mommy? ...a wuffin?" (asking for a muffin in the morning)
Almost exactly four days after Henry got "the sickies", I got it. It was kinof inevitable, with him leeched to me night and day, and I wasn't surprised when I felt it coming. I was NOT, however, prepared for how hard it hit me! The first evening I knew I felt feverish, and went to bed early. I did NOT sleep that night, because I felt so awful... The next morning I called in backup (my Mom!!), and she came from 9-5 to help me with the boys. I rested on the couch that day, being present but trying not to share my newly acquired germs. I thought by the evening that the worst had passed, and I went to bed hopeful. ...however. I nearly passed out on the way to the bathroom that night, and when I woke up the next morning I felt like a raisin: too warm too long... shriveled up. I called my mom again, and decided to drive to her house for the day. We only live about 20 minutes apart, and by half way there I realized I should not have been driving. (I almost stopped at a green light...) With some prayers and God's grace we made it there, I took the boys inside, and crashed in my parents' bed for the WHOLE day. I slept as much as I could make my body, and took what nibbles my stomach would permit. My husband beat me home that evening and cleaned up the toys, etc, I had let the kids leave. He also replenished toilet paper to the bathrooms, laid out the kids' PJs, did the dishes... I kept finding more little things he had done around the house. What a sweet man! After those two days, I was able to drag myself around the house a bit, on my feet for about 10 minutes max at a time.
...and exactly 4 days after I got it, Jonathan measured 100.0F on our thermometer.
My attitude had started to show through part way through my sickest days. I started to feel discouraged at not feeling the healing process begin, and I even verbalized some red flags a few times, "...if I'm not better by Sunday, I think I might be a little mad having to miss Church again" , and "if Jonathan gets it now, we're DOOMED!"
Jonathan has been such a trooper. "I'm willy sick, Momma", he says. He wants me close-by, and has enjoyed watching "Despicable Me" (becoming his new favorite movie?).
As I was putting the kids to bed the other night, in a hot house, with hot kiddos, and hot self... my attitude came to the surface. Hot tears came because I was mad that I would have to miss church again, mad that I wasn't getting better, and mad about other selfish desires that I won't get into. I sat upstairs outside the boys' room and chatted with a dear friend who is rich with wise words, and read another dear friends' blog, in which she pours out her desires to God in such a selfless, God-honoring way... then I became mad at how selfish I was being! "Sometimes it's so hard to wrassle down my selfish heart!", I told my husband. He talked and talked with me, talking me gently into choosing the attitude I knew was right.
First of all, my children are a privilege. God gifted me with them, and it's humbling to know that other people who deserve SO much more, are still faithfully waiting. And there I was, complaining about what I would have to miss to care for my sick children, and complaining about being sick myself. I started out treasuring the time I got to spend caring for this sickness... and as it got tough, instead of leaning on the Lord (Who is my Strength!), I allowed myself to get frustrated and discouraged.
God, forgive me, I so easily forget to run to You...
We aren't done being sick yet. Jonathan is only on day 2 of what appears to be about 8 days long, and I'm on day 6 but feeling like I could use some anti-biotic help. Please pray... of course for healing. But also that Josh would be spared (he works so hard to provide!), and that I would draw my strength from Him to finish the race I have begun!
Um. I love how your thoughts are so concise and, in this case, a reflection of what He's nudging me about, too. UGH! I hate when I'm selfish. First, because I usually don't notice for a while. Second, because when I do finally notice, I'm so grumpy for being selfish and grumpy BECAUSE I was selfish...does that make sense? Maybe another way to phrase it is that the selfishness over time made me a grumpy person. When I realize my selfishness, I become grumpy because I somehow didn't acknowledge it sooner and squash it! Of course, after realizing it, I feel MUCH MUCH better and seem to make strides in the right direction.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad that you allow God to work in you so freely. Your openness in sharing those things are a great encouragement to me, and no doubt, to others, too.
I sure hope you guys are feeling better soon. I miss seeing you, friend.
Caitlin (from Brett's gmail account...lol)