For the past 34 years I've been living with a disabling illness: untreatable and incurable but, thank God, not infectious and not fatal. This health horror is genetic, and it's not gonna go away. When I'm stressed, as I have been deeply this past week, symptoms kick in and I feel like the dog's dinner.
This morning I woke up feeling incredibly toxic: dizzy, nauseous, in pain. At times like this, it's all too tempting to grumble, to take the day off, to lie down and not get up ever again. But I've learned something over the past 3+ decades: giving up doesn't solve anything. I can't do much about my illness but I can do a whole lot about my attitude.
Maybe I can't do what I want. But I can still do something.
We too often forget that we are blessed with free will. We react without realizing that we can choose to act instead. We have to remember to show up for the party, even if we can't dance.
I am choosing to do what I can do. I can walk to my garden. I can enjoy a big mug of hot sweet tea (I was, quite sensibly, always taught that sweetening tea is only for when you're poorly). I can bask in the morning sunshine. There is so very much to be grateful for.
God is good. And my life is just fine the way it has been given to me.
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