Downtown Abbey

Not quite Downtown Abbey, but here I sit with my “bell" to summon aid at a moment’s notice. I can almost picture myself in the ornate living room, crushed velvet sofas and a writing desk brimming with quills and parchment paper. Heavy tapestries flank the enormous stone fireplace, prepared hours earlier by the scullery maid, long before I arose….hmmm. Not true. These past 27 days have been quite difficult and sleep, if it ever returns in full, has been snatched in miniscule moments at every hour of the day and night. But I am mending. 

As much as I like to pretend I am of noble heritage, there is something magical that transpires in the quiet hours of endless pain and suffering. Suffering escapes no one, not even the noble. In wrenching pain and discomfort and only a tiny amount of relief, I understand that I have to go through the trial and shortcuts simply don't exist. One such night this week found me weeping and desperate to get relief and in those moments, my thoughts turned to Facebook and I read a post from someone else who was struggling. I began to pray for this family and in just a few moments, I was distracted from my own physical pain. Yes, it really can be that simple. Turning my thoughts into prayers for others really did bring some relief. 

While I am improving little by little each day, I still need to ring my bell and when I do, my trusty family comes rushing to meet my every need, I am completely humbled by their care of me. It's not easy depending on others, but God is showing me that it is as necessary for me to receive as it is for them to give. This season will pass in time, but the lessons learnt of kindness, dependence and love will last a lifetime.