100 Reasons Why I’m Not A Cowgirl – August 13
Today’s journal entry may come across as harsh and blunt. I don’t mean to be harsh but I can’t excuse the bluntness of it. You know that inner drill sergeant I talk about from time to time? Well that’s the one who wrote this.
So brace yourself, because my inner drill sergeant doesn’t dance around things like the rest of me does
My life right now is like an elaborate game of hot lava. Scooting around from bed to wheelchair, my feet never touching the ground, my legs never standing, If you were to watch me half the time you’d laugh and the other half you’d likely feel pity.
But I’m getting on just fine, pretty good actually. I’m acclimating, getting used to it. In some ways it has gotten easier because my arms have gotten stronger, in most ways it has gotten easier because my attitude has gotten stronger.
It really is a choice.
It truly is a choice.
A lot of people disagree with that.
A lot of people think they can’t possibly be happy because they’re stuck:
in a job they don’t like
in an economy that isn’t fair
in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make them happy
in a place in their life that isn’t satisfying
with a bank account that doesn’t have the numbers they want
with a skill set that doesn’t allow them the career they would like
So they sit there and say they’re stuck.
Like the man on the mat at the pool of Bethesda. Who laid there for over 30 years because no one would put him in the pool. Because no one would hand it to him. In all those 38 years he never got the gumption to drag himself to that pool.
Healing was right there, but he laid there instead.
We are so much like that man.
Don’t talk to me about being stuck today.
I can’t stand. I can’t walk. I can’t go to the bathroom without help. I can’t reach my cabinet to get a plate out. I can’t get into my pantry. I can’t go outside. I can’t get that package I’ve been anxiously waiting on that is sitting right there on my front porch as I type this. I can’t pick up my children from school. I can barely dress myself. I can’t run to the grocery store. I can’t go beyond three rooms in my entire house. I can’t walk away from the pain. In fact, the slightest attempt to walk would make it far more excruciating.
In many ways, I’m stuck.
But by the grace of God I’m still happy.
And for all of the things I can’t do, there are a million more that I can!
And each day I get stronger, and each day my bones heal a little bit more, and each day I’m alive and breathing and here with my wonderful family!
And I’m so very happy right now.
Filled with joy, even.
I can’t stop smiling.
Because I can see beyond all of that to the blessings I do have.
Because we all have blessings and curses in our lives.
And our happiness depends on which one we decide to value the most.
No one is exempt just because their life appears easier than yours.
I’ve been there. I have spent years wrapping my problems around me like a blanket. It’s a dark and comfortable existence.
It took me years to unwrap myself from that.
To train myself to look for the rays of sun.
To learn to recognize their warmth and to turn towards that instead of running back to my blanket out of instinct.
I clawed myself out of that.
I’m not going back.
It’s time to decide. Do you want to stay wrapped up or do you want happiness bad enough to start clawing?
Because everyone is stuck somewhere.
and being stuck is only enough to keep you miserable if you decide to be.