I am sick. I don’t do sick. Sick stinks.
If you are at my house and you are sick, I will do for you. That’s my MO. There is not a lot of, “suck it up, Buttercup,” when it comes to my family. If they are sick, I would prefer if they take it easy. Let me do their running and fetching. They need to rest and heal so they can be 100% and get on with life. I do not hold the same standards for myself.
Yesterday I was miserable but pushed through and painted the deck. It needed to be done last year, but with Archie’s schedule, he didn’t have time and didn’t want me tackling it by myself. “It’ll wait till next year.” Well, next year is here and my list of,”it’ll be ok until next year(s),” is so long it’s going to take two years to complete. The “next year” meant, two people working side-by-side can complete the task in “x” amount of time. Now I’m down a man–literally–so…one project at a time.
Then there’s the add-ons: Three days ago I had tile randomly fall onto the floor. It was from under a counter top that had to be removed to be fixed three years ago. We expected it come off when we did the project and were surprised when it didn’t. Soooo, again, it waited til Arch went home so I could add it to the list. Seriously? What the heck?
Anyway, I was miserable and pretty pathetic yesterday, incredibly glad Taylor wasn’t home and no one stopped by. I was also super emotional (very unTracylike). I bawled my way through the 12 hour project (the scraping alone–oy-vay!) I felt lousy, was coughing my head off, and feeling dizzy, but in my mind, I had to get this done. I keep thinking, if I die, I don’t want to leave all of this mess for Taylor to deal with. I did vocalize that to her, but as Cindy from work suggested this morning…I probably shouldn’t repeat that again. It kinda freaks her out.
Trudging on to today. Getting out of bed was ridiculous. Luckily I did have a reason: get coffee going for Taylor. It’s nice having a purpose :). After she left, though, back to bed, harumph.
I hacked my way into work, then took some new meds (not such a good idea). The office was moving, but I wasn’t. Probably not a good thing. I came home. Why am I blogging, you might ask? Because the TV would echo in my head, if I lay down my body tries to cough up yet another lung, but if I don’t do something with my mind I tend to have HUGE pity parties. To be quite honest, I’m all out of streamers and party poppers. Since I have to miss half a day of work I can’t afford to buy more–so your stuck with me.
I need more coffee… .
The first thing to do when you come home sick is jamify–like you all need to know that :p. Then I took my heavenly Dad’s elbow out of my ribs and had devotions a little early. I always feel better after I’ve been obedient (at least mentally. Physically? I’m still waiting).
Their verse for today: Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. 1 Timothy 1:15
Considering I am feeling incredibly miserable, yep, I agree. I feel like the worst sinner of all times. That pretty much aligns with an amazing pity party–oh, wait, still no poppers… .
Other times, though, I might have my undies in a wad over that statement. I can do the comparing game just as well as the next person:
“At least I haven’t killed anyone.”
“I don’t gossip like____.”
“I don’t ____ like____!” You fill in the blanks. I’ve used that sentence thousands of times in a million different scenarios of justification for myself to myself so I feel like I have reached some “holier than thou pinnacle” on which to judge others. Shame on me. No, really, I am ashamed.
Just yesterday when I was having my full blown pity party and thinking of all the different scenarios as to how if maybe just _____ would have happened, Arch might still be here. If _______ would have ______than maybe his cancer would have been found sooner. Oh, yesterday my mind was spewing all kinds of nasties out of sadness, grief, and…..sin.
Jeremiah 17:9 “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?”
Even in grief, I am still accountable for the words I speak and the thoughts that are running through my mind. Now, I don’t think of a fleeting thought as a sin. It is the choosing to DWELL on that thought when it becomes a sin.
Like: a dude can’t help if a half naked woman walks right in front of him and stops. It’s another story if the dude pulls up a chair and fixes his eyes on her verses looking away and walking in a different direction. Hello!
And so it is with another day of striving to shed a little more of me and try to reflect a tiny bit more of Him.
Until tomorrow: Blessings!