BB, a childhood friend, posted this morning on my Spacebook wall. She wished me an early happy birthday (I will be 52 on Saturday), and urged me to have fun and celebrate myself as I’ve had a “challenging” year.
Goodness. That would be true. Let’s see—the first three weeks of March saw me afflicted with shingles; the trip to Missouri to get Mom to her stent placement surgery and her follow ups, then her subsequent worsening and death; Dad’s death; the injuries to my shoulder and knee. Not to mention local and national irritations and political disappointments.
However, blessings also abound. My husband loves me; I have a great church family; my granddaughter adores me; my son cared enough about my feelings to take off work to support me through my father’s funeral; friends who would do anything for me are scattered all over. I have material blessings that I’m painfully aware others do not—at one time in my life, neither did I.
For all of these, I am truly grateful.
Yes, my 52nd year has been challenging. God did not promise us a life without pain or grief; God promised to be with us always. Therein lies my hope.
Thanks be to God.