Even When Everyone is Sick

If you peeked in my windows this week and saw what looked like a crime scene, thank you for not calling the police. Somebody would have probably thrown up on their uniforms, and that would have meant yet another load of disgusting laundry for me.

Although I haven't posted this week, nobody is dead, least of all me. It just probably looked that way, if you're a peeping tom (or tom-ette), that is.

The Medusa-haired woman clad in red velour robe and sprawled across the kitchen rug...that was me.

The three still-in-pajamas-at-2 pm-children jockeying for the best "lovins" spot around my trying-desperately-to-remain-still-body...they were mine.

And the commercials on the television that hasn't seen a commercial since the advent of Tivo--I approved them.

I do not want to relive this week--ever. But in my weakness is when God works, reminding me of the good in the bad.

Five days of stomach flu has made me oh so thankful...

For a washing machine that ran for three days straight and didn't give out.

For a dryer that rapidly returned favorite blankets to tear-streaked faces before bedtime.
For soft crocheted afghans that warmed feverish bodies...and were fun to poke little toes through.For a husband who worked all night so he could stay home all day and take care of the children when I was too weak to get out of bed.

For little arms and necks and fingers that wrapped around me and held me close as the minute hand turned round, extra love that their normally active bodies never seem to make more than a moment's time for.

It's not how I intended to spend my week. It's not an illness I would have intentionally subjected myself to in order to make myself see all these blessings.

But in the end, I did survive. And God has redirected my perspective once again to how rich I truly am.