Taking Stock

Most of us pause this time of year to re-assess what we’re doing (or not doing) to take care of ourselves.  If we listen, if we look for it, the entire holiday season gives us reason to pause and reconnect spiritually, relationally, and emotionally.  

About a year ago, I took a new job that was much more stressful from what I had been accustomed to.  I knew going into it that I would be investing a lot of myself, but I believed I could make a difference.  Many sleepless nights, tears, and uncertainty have flitted through my days since then, but I am now beginning to reap the rewards of my contributions.  We’re not there yet, but we’ve covered a lot of ground. 

In March, my mother passed away.  Emphysema had eaten at her lungs, forcing her to fight for every breath.  Her struggle had been painful and long, both for her and for all who yearned to help her but were powerless to do so.  When she passed, a part of me sighed.  I remember standing by her body the morning of her death, nearly convulsing with grief, yet thanking the Lord that her battle was over. 

In May, my husband and I decided to open our home to our daughter, son-in-law, and grandbaby.  I had driven to Kansas City to see them in April but came home burdened.  Financially, their heads were above water, but I wondered how long they could tread.  When it was just the two of them, I could rationalize standing back and letting them go through their own trials.  Now that they had Lincoln…I knew we needed to act. 

Michigan’s economy is about as troubled as can be, but we made our basement a place the little family could land.  They would make monthly “family contributions”, and we would use that money to make the basement a home for them.  We run the dishwasher a whole lot more now, awaken in the middle of the night to the sound of Lincoln’s cry, and have had to adjust to another three personalities within these walls.  But they’re home.  We can be an influence on little Lincoln’s life.  We will be there when our next little grandbaby is born in June.  It’s totally worth any little inconveniences.

Lots of changes.  Lots of growth.  Lots of rewards.  But I have forgotten to take care of myself in the process.  I haven’t gotten my sleep.  I haven’t been eating right.  I haven’t had down time.  I haven’t invested in my physical health at all. 

I can’t make all the right changes overnight.  In fact, if I try, I will become frustrated and quickly abandon the whole idea.  I will commit, though, to make a small, positive change every week.  A change that will help me know it’s OK to spoil myself a little bit.  A change that will be for my good and for the good of those I love.  I’ll tell you about my first change tomorrow.