From Complaining to Praising
If you guys knew me in my everyday life, you'd probably know that I complain WAY YONDER too much (and for those of you who didn't know, yes, I'm from the South.) Anyway, the words, I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, I'm tired of rain, I'm tired of the heat, I'm so sleepy, have too often been muttered from my lips.
A fact that I'm catching from myself so often in this pregnancy. And it is something I so want to change, not just throughout this time of my life, but for the rest of it. Because I am honestly so blessed.
So I must say to my sister that I'm sorry for making her endure my rant about the evil basement workers (who I felt at the time should be compared to nothing less than trolls for their unneccessary locking of the basement exit door). Because, I shouldn't have complained. After all, I really needed the excercise that I got from reclimbing the 40 stairs I had just descended, and the nice heart healthy walk through the 90 degree weather that I gained by having to circle the entire building due to the fact that my basement exit door was locked. And I'm really not being sarcastic. I really did need the excercise, because as my doctor says, I don't need to take the lazy way out.
I'm sure by this point you're wondering where all this is going. I promise I'm getting there. See, as I'm waking up at 2 am wondering what kind of heat trapping material my spaghetti strap pajama top and shorts are made of and who in the world had turned the heat to 200 degrees in my house, when really the optimal setting should be no higher than 50, anyway, as I'm sitting there pondering all these important matters of life and forcing myself to walk through the Sahara desert of a house to get to the bathroom (again!), I start to think of how I really need to count my blessings.
See, when I was about 8 weeks into my pregnancy, I went for my 2nd doctors appointment. Mom went with me because she's just a great mom like that. Anyway, we met this girl who was in the same boat that I'm in. Single girl, raised in a Christian home, who through a round of bad choices found herself pregnant. But the outcome of her appointment that day was so much different than mine.
See, while I was told that everything looked great and that all seemed healthy and happy, she was being told that she was losing her little one. She about 5 or 6 weeks along, and she hadn't told her parents yet because they lived out of state, and she really wanted to tell them face to face. And as scary as the thought of telling her parents was (a fact I totally identified with) it was breaking her heart to be losing that child. Despite the circumstances, she wanted that baby.
And I knew right then and there that God had allowed me to meet this girl. Because He wanted me to remember that no matter what, He makes NO mistakes, and that this baby is a blessing and a miracle. A gift to be cherished. And that through this child, He would teach me many great things.
See, God has promised to work all things for my good because He has called me(Romans 8:28). And I honestly pray that the girl I met at the doctor's office is seeing the loving hand of God working in her life in this time of sorrow. Because everytime I complain, I remember that she would trade her tears for my thousand trips to the bathroom, she would trade her pain for my prenatal hot-flashes, and her mourning for my morning (actually evening) sickness.
I am blessed beyond measure. And if I ever sound like a complainer on here, remind me of that!