When I was 5 years old, I fell off the top of a bunk bed, dreaming that I could roll forever. It was a vivid dream of white puffy clouds, until I got a 1/2 roll and Boom, off I went. My head karate chopped the side of the bed . . . and I won a round trip ticket to the ER.
From that day on, I became quiet familiar with the Emergency Room, acquiring stitches many more times, before moving out of the “clumsy, oops I did it again” stage of my life.
From reaching up to place a bird in its nest and falling 10 feet, to slashing my ankle in a stain glass shop, it seemed as though I had a scarlet thread of “oppsie daisies” running through my life.
Some accidents involved selfless acts, others involved adventure; and while the memories of those days are vague, the scars still remain. Sometimes we need those scars to remind us of tough days gone by. Some people suffer from disease, loss of a job, a child, a home or loss of themselves.
You look at a scar and know there’s a story. It’s easy to complain. Complaints seem to jump out at every opportunity and like a ball rolling down a hill, it has its own momentum, taking little effort to sustain: the kids are driving you crazy, the dishes and laundry are mounting a war, your budget isn’t big enough, the car isn’t clean enough. We wished we had a grocery delivery service, an errand boy, a nanny, a better job, a bigger house, more time, more money, a date night, someone who thinks I’m right – and the list goes on.
We all suffer hardships and unpleasantries, some more than others for sure . . . I read a blog the other day of a woman who had just had a baby. She wrote a Top 10 List of all the things she loves about having a newborn. And also admitted, she could write a list equally as long, listing all the tough – how did this happen, what have I done, this hurts, why won’t they sleep, wha wha wha moments, but she chose not to.
Turn your face toward the goodness, the hopefulness. Lift up your eyes and count the blessings. Write them down, shout ’em from the roof top; however you’re reminded, do it. Look at the weight you’ve lost, not the weight that remains; be thankful for the car you drive, not wishing for something you don’t; embrace the moments you have with your family; live life to the fullest. The living room is messy, but you have a house full of happy kids. In the Race of Life, we can choose to focus on the moans and groans, and heavy breathing to the finish line, or we can be thankful that WE’RE BREATHING!
Life on this earth will bring heartache, you can count on it. I’ve never met anyone who’s truly lived, that didn’t bare a scar. What is your view from the front porch looking’ in? Will you look at the scar and view hardship or what you gained through the experience. You’re alive . . . every day, hour and minute, you can have a do-over to make this life, Something Beautiful.
A Word to the Wise: If you find yourself on a bunk bed, dreaming you can roll forever . . . Don’t Do It!
Do everything without complaining or arguing” (Philippians 2:14)