I got out of bed and stood in the 6 o'clock gloom, and I knew it wasn't going to happen today: Driving kids back and forth to work. Writing. Cleaning. 10K steps. Conversations. Life.
This is my reality:
In the past 18 months, I have seen 3 rheumatologists. I have had countless blood tests. I have been diagnosed with lupus three times, at three separate offices, in three different ways. Not once did I hear the words I wanted to: Actually, you don't have lupus. You have (fill in the blank). It's completely curable. Pop these pills three times a day for a week, and you'll be good as new.
No matter how much I wanted it to be different, all those doctor visits led me to the same door - the one that opened into this new reality: I am in a constant battle against myself. And, it is exhausting.
I had big goals for today. Big plans. Huge amounts of work I wanted to get done.
And, I woke up this morning and I knew that I couldn't accomplish them.
Then, I thought about what is expected of me. Not to finish first. Not to keep up with the sprinters, the marathon runners, the medal wearers. But, simply, to keep on.
Even if that means walking, limping, crawling to the finish line.
I have discovered this past year and a half, that life is not about the big dreams, the huge goals, the end results. It's about giving everything we have even when all we have is just a tiny bit of what is needed. I can't write the way I used to, but I can write. Not six-thousand words at a sitting, but one word and then another until what I want to write and need to write has been written. It is amazing what being faithful in the small things will bring:
And, so, today.....
Today, I told myself I only had to write one word, walk one step, sweep one floor. I told myself that I didn't have to do it all, I just had to do something. Because a little bit of something eventually adds up to a lot, but a lot of nothing is still nothing.
I sat down and wrote my word and was surprised to see it become one thousand.
I walked one step and was surprised to see that one step turn into six thousand.
I swept one floor and was amazed to vacuum three more.
And, now, I am here. Writing to you, because I told myself that I would do this, too. One sentence, but you can see it is much more.
This has been the story of my life this year. It has been the truth I have had to learn to embrace. I can't do what I used to, but I can do something. More importantly, no matter how small, how painful, how insignificant my faltering steps might be, if they are carrying me along the path God has set, they will be enough.
After all, He is the one who fed five thousand with five loaves of bread and two fish.
He is the one who praised the widow who gave her all even though her all was just two coins.
He is the one who sacrificed Himself once for all.
And in Him, our small gifts and meager accomplishments stretch beyond the limitations of our abilities and become more than what they should be, more than what we thought they could be.
I hope you remember that when your days are hard. I hope you think about it when you feel like nothing you do matters. When every step seems to lead to another dead-end or another closed door, I hope you know that as broken and wounded and hurt as we are, what we have in Him is always enough for the task ahead of us.
Blessings for your day, my friend.
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.