Spring break came at the perfect time.  We headed out early Saturday morning for a long drive to Georgia.  Our destination was Tybee Island, but we stopped to visit friends for Saturday night.  And what a great visit it was.  It is good to have friends who have been with you through the years.  It is good to have friends who think nothing of picking you up and carrying you to the area where everyone is visiting.  But with that also comes a terrible dose of reality.   I am not sure I can take much more of that right now!

How fun to watch the adults playing with the kids, running, playing soccer, just hanging out at the playset, pushing them on swings…  Or seeing a couple walk hand in hand, occasionally stealing a kiss…   Very aware of the two story home whose stairs are effortlessly maneuvered.  No, I am not fighting the envy right now.  I am struggling to find my purpose.  At a priest’s suggestion, I have been trying to focus on the cross.   Look to Christ on the cross to better understand and carry my cross.  That was the idea.  Now when he suggested it, I felt really good about it, almost excited to have a new outlook with regards to my MS.   What the week has shown me, however, is how I am a cross for others to bear.  And I am just struggling with that.  Is it my pride?  I watch as my husband does everything possible to make me a part of everything.  The walkway to the beach only takes you so far in a wheelchair, then the dunes are there to contend with.  That is when I said, go have fun; I’ll see you later.  “No you’re going too” as he bends down for me to get on his back!  He piggybacked me through the dunes right to the beach and found a spot for me to sit!   He always does things like this so lovingly, so naturally.  And yes, I feel a bit guilty that we are not walking hand in hand, stealing those kisses.  I miss those days…   My kids are so wonderful about getting the wheelchair for me, pushing me in it.  It is humbling.  When we went to mass, it was beautiful how kind people were.  One woman even came after communion and gave me a hug and kiss, handing me a note that she wrote  that read,

Jeremiah 30:17.  I will restore you to health.

All of this (and lots more!) got me to thinking…   In looking at Christ carrying the cross, He had a man who helped, He had a woman there to wipe his face …  Who am I that I think I should do it alone?    Perhaps I need to focus more on gratitude.  There is no question I have much for which to be grateful.  Do I express my gratitude to friends, loved ones, even strangers? Or do I express my frustrations more?   What about to God… I know I share my frustrations.  Am I equally good about sharing my gratitude with Him?


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