How to Survive Your Cold (and Enjoy It, Too)

The cold and flu season is in full swing. Where I live, close to the Texas Hill Country, it has also been the season for cedar pollen, leading to what for many is comparable to getting a severe cold or even flu-like symptoms, called around here "cedar fever." The dreaded pollen can cause such terrible allergies that last and last until finally they develop into sinus infections, fevers, sore throats, coughing, congestion that blocks ears: the works.

As I battled with my most recent bout of the cedar fever, a sinus infection, and took care of my two young daughters, who also had fevers and runny noses, I struggled to keep a positive attitude. When everything was sore and two small children were cranky for days (and nights!) on end, who could really blame me? Well, the truth is that it would have helped my family and me to survive the sickness without all the grumpiness if I had simply practiced thankfulness. Wait, thankfulness? For infections? Yes. Thankfulness, even for infections.

According to research, as discussed by Amy Morin in Psychology Today, practicing thankfulness has been shown to improve mental, psychological, emotional, and even physical health. Clearly it is in our best interest to try gratefulness in place of grumbling. However, what about a cold is there to be grateful for?

This is where a bit of discipline and creative thinking come into play. In 1000 Gifts, Ann Voskamp argues that thankfulness is at times a sacrifice. In other words, it's hard to do, but worth the challenge. I've written more in-depth about the sacrifice of thanksgiving elsewhere, and giving thanks through difficult circumstances is on my mind a lot. Though it takes self-control to give thanks instead of gripe, I can think of several ways I could (at least in theory!) give thanks for sickness.

When I'm sick, I try to slow down and let my body rest as much as possible. I can be thankful for the slower schedule, even though it might be forced on me against my will. If I have a chance, I can even take a hot bath (the steam is great for congestion!) and relax a bit, maybe with a drop or two of eucalyptus essential oil to add an invigorating scent that reportedly helps clear congestion. When my kids are napping, I can nap. I can be thankful for yummy, hot soup (maybe my husband will bring me pho!). Trying to find small things to enjoy during a cold is one way to be thankful.

More importantly, perhaps, getting sick reminds me that I am not in control of my own health, ultimately. Yes, I can control the food I eat, my exercise, and - to some extent, being a mom of littles - how much sleep I get. But I cannot stop myself from getting a cold, no matter how many elderberry gummies I chew per day. God takes the opportunity when I get sick to remind me that I am frail. Yet despite the frailty and relative lack of importance of my life (considering by comparison God, the maker of the universe), He still cares for me intimately. My motherhood matters. My personal dreams and goals matter. My health matters to Him, who showed compassion for the sick when He walked the earth (and still does today). When I'm sick, it is easier to see both how small I am and also how my simple, small life matters to God. After all, the little things stand out more to me when I'm sick: the taste of soup, the feeling of a hot bath, the smell of eucalyptus, even being able to breathe! All of these little things are gifts from a God who created my body and said it was good.

So, I can try to be thankful, though it's not easy, when sickness strikes. And when it's through, I can be thankful again that I have a healthy body. Sick or healthy, life itself is such a gift!

The Sacrifice of Thanksgiving

"I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving and call on the name of the LORD." Psalm 116:17

I thought my nights were unbearable. My 9 month-old was waking several times a night, so my sleep was constantly interrupted. This had been going on for weeks. I was a grumpy, complaining mess.

Then we all got sick with a cold. Nothing too debilitating, but just enough gunk to disrupt my baby's sleep so much that she would not let me put her down at all for one night, and barely the night after that. One night she screamed so much that for hours she was inconsolable and I slept very little.

What all of this showed me was that I need to be thankful for my circumstances, no matter what they are. Who can say whether they will deteriorate into something worse very soon? I tend to take it for granted that I deserve a certain standard of comfort (such as a full night's sleep), and I complain when I don't get it. Complaining shows that I see myself higher than I ought to.

In reality, I don't deserve anything good in my life. Every good gift comes from God (James 1:17), and He sustains all things by giving us life (Acts 17:28). If I have food and clothing, I should be content (1 Timothy 6:8). Many don't even have these.

I think God has given us many strategies for overcoming the complaining attitude and embracing an attitude of thanksgiving. He tells us to be thankful in all things, so we have a command to obey (1 Thessalonians 5:18). He gives us memories so that we can recall from our own lives times of trial and times of refreshing. Therefore, we can learn that seasons come and go, and if we are in a difficult time, a time of healing may be fast approaching. We can also remember how God sustained us through the past time of difficulty. For example, my first daughter didn't sleep through the night until she was almost two and a half years old. Now she sleeps like a champion!

God also allows us to learn about other people who deal with various circumstances that are different from ours, whether good or bad. We can see our own blessings by comparison and reach out to help those who materially have less or who may have more materially but need spiritual and emotional encouragement that we can offer.

There are so many ways to practice being thankful, and any time I give thanks, I feel blessed. Complaining only makes things seem worse. Being thankful may be a sacrifice, especially being thankful for difficult things, but it's an offering to God because it recognizes His sovereignty and goodness and it reveals that we ultimately trust Him rather than ourselves to know what is best for us.

My two (at times sleepless) daughters.

He Won't Dance with Me

I've tried everything: simple requests, bargaining, debating, reasoning, begging. Nothing will move my husband to dance with me at an event like a wedding. We have been to several in our nearly five years of marriage, so there have been many opportunities to try new strategies. Maybe this time, I'll think. Maybe this time he'll realize how much it would mean to me and he'll give in. Usually this crazy thought is followed by some daydreaming about how fun it will be to get out there on the floor, all dressed up, and enjoy a slow dance or two with my love. Every time I bring it up, however, my hopes are silenced, like pretty music suddenly drowned out by the sound of a loud truck's roaring engine. He absolutely refuses. He just will not do it. Why, I cannot fully comprehend. But there it is. He is the man I married.

Lest it sound as though my husband is never amenable to my requests, I should explain that most often he is perfectly happy to go along with doing things I enjoy, and to let me even take the lead in planning anniversary trips and such. Most of the time, he is not so immovable as on the dancing question. Dancing is one of two things I can think of on which he will not budge; the other is going to one of those "bring your own snacks and paint along with the instructor" classes.

Dealing with our completely opposite interests in the dancing matter is one thing, and I'm sure many lessons about disappointment, understanding, patience, and the like can be learned from it. But the more interesting point in all of this is the irony found in the fact that I, like many girls, I'm sure, always looked forward during my single days to the days when I would finally have a spouse to take with me to these dancing functions. It was always awkward without a dance partner who wasn't A) a crush (embarrassing), B) a reluctant date (pathetic), or C) a family member (not quite the same thing). I remember consciously thinking about how nice it would be to have a built-in dance partner who was at once my romantic interest and my best friend.

As it turns out, all of my best chances for dancing and enjoying it, notwithstanding awkwardness, happened when I was single. I danced more then than I have since and than I maybe ever will again. I had the opportunities to attend and participate in English country dances (yes, as in Jane Austen); swing dancing classes, events, and performances; high school banquets and fundraisers; and weddings. Little did I know that in my pining for future married dancing bliss I had fallen prey to a mindset that was false - and the dancing dreams were just one specific instance of that mindset.

The mindset was this: an assumption that married life would be a certain way, and specifically a better way than I perceived my single state to be. What a mistake! Of course, marriage books warn you not to assume marriage will fix all your problems, because you and your spouse will be just as messed up together as you are individually. I knew this truth, but somehow I failed to apply it in all my thinking. I sometimes let myself feel sorry for my single self instead of enjoying and making the most of the time that I had with good friends and fun experiences. Hence my dancing dreams, which frankly were a form of idolatry and jealousy (idolizing marriage and envying those who had what I thought I wanted).

In reality, my spouse is both much less and much more than I assumed he would be when I imagined what dancing with him would be like. True, he won't dance with me, but he will brush my hair, change the oil in my car, mow the lawn, and do the dishes. He will fight with me, but he will apologize when he is wrong and forgive me when I am wrong. He will raise children with me. God willing, he will grow old with me. He will be my first advocate and best critic. He will be my constant friend. We will laugh, cry (well, I cry, anyway), and converse deeply together. How thankful I am for him!

Marriage is not the answer to all of our problems; neither is singleness. But either is a good gift to be enjoyed in its proper season.

"Three Hard Eucharisteos"

Ann Voskamp suggests looking for daily gifts from God in the little things. A simple pat of butter can be viewed with gratitude and seen as a loving reminder that God cares. In Voskamp's "Joy Dare Collection" challenge, she lists "3 hard eucharisteos" (three things for which it is hard to give thanks) as a prompt for seeking God's gifts on April 16th. On that day, my daughters were sick with a cold (which they are still getting over). Consequently, sleep was even more lacking than usual, and my husband was primarily taking care of our wakeful, snotty, needy toddler at night since I'm still caring for our two-month-old who wakes a couple of times a night anyway. My three gifts from God that day were:

1. Two sick girls. A reminder that I'm not in control of their health, let alone their choices as they get older. I can do all I can to be a good mom and set a good example, but that's it. God holds them and loves them even more than I do.

2. Sleepless nights. A reminder that God sustains me through the times when I don't think I have strength to get anything done. He gives grace for each moment, including the sleep-deprived ones.

3. Not being able to sleep with my husband (cuddles being an important way I feel connected to him). A reminder that my ultimate comfort, security, and encouragement come from God, not my husband. I can tend to rely too much on my husband for support, though he is just a person, and cannot take the place of God in meeting every emotional need that I have.

Emptiness of a Clean Manger

Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. - Proverbs 14:4 

I like to be tidy and organized. I wish my house were cleaner than it ever is (having a toddler running about making messes defeats my efforts most of the time). I desire orderly days and routines I can count on.

Change? No, thank you. Spontaneity? Only if it's planned.

Whenever there's a trip looming in my future, even just a short drive up to visit my family in a nearby town, I tend to feel stressed. The routines I have established at home will not be there and I am not exactly confident in what I can expect, so I worry. I'm currently in the midst of a travel-intense season, and each trip is for a wonderful purpose (visiting family and relaxing vacation), but I am a tightly-wound stress ball. I know our routines related to meals and bedtime and sleep will be disrupted, and I know emotional strain and tiredness will ensue, and I know there will be messy challenges. Long car drives with four small children (my daughter and three nieces) are hard, and airports are hard. No matter the approach, I know these trips will take lots of flexibility on my part.

In the first half of the proverb about the oxen, I get the sense that the writer is being ironic. How can one have a manger with no oxen? If one has no oxen, then what is the manger for? Of course one must need oxen if one has a manger or one wouldn't have built the manger in the first place. It's an odd image, an empty manger. But the manger is clean. Isn't that appealing? Also, with no oxen, one doesn't have the expense of feeding and caring for the oxen. That sounds easy.

But, as the writer states, how else can a farmer sow and reap an abundant harvest except through the help of the strong ox? The farmer desires an abundant crop, so he puts up with cleaning the messy manger. The benefits of having the oxen outweigh the challenges.

Similarly, if I desire an abundant life, I must deal with the inconveniences that come along with children, a spouse, family, friends, travels, cooking, etc. Relationships are messy, but they are worthwhile. Building a home focused more on flourishing lives than on sparkling cleanliness is frustrating at times, but can influence my family and friends for the better. Travels for the sake of spending time with faraway family and vacations that allow reconnecting with my spouse are challenging endeavors, but they also provide abundance: deep conversations, games, laughter, shared meals, new experiences, future memories, rest.

I could stay home, furiously maintain an organized, spotless house, and never change the routine, keeping the manger empty and clean. However, I would be robbing myself of the abundant life that I can have if I let in that ox, enjoy the feast from the bountiful harvest, and, with a grateful attitude, clean up his poo, perhaps with a grimace on my face.

One Thing at a Time

"Stressed" defined my days. Sure, partly tiredness was creeping in and adding tension, but it was more than that. While I was taking care of the laundry and meals and such, I also had all of these projects in my head that I couldn't stop planning. I lamented my mere forty minutes a day (the length my daughter will sleep without me for her nap) in which I could sit down and knit, read, write, sew, etc., because I had so much more I wanted to do!

Then I read something in Jerry Bridges' Trusting God, the book my small group is going through this semester, about the stress we feel when we have two conflicting agendas (ours and God's) instead of one (God's). The passage seemed to fit what I was experiencing. I thought, I need to get rid of the extra agenda in my life and just focus on God's agenda for me.

But what does that look like? What is God's agenda?

I don't know exact details of God's plan for my life down to the minute, obviously, and I don't think we are even supposed to try to figure out "God's will" and wait around until He gives us some kind of grand sign telling us exactly what the next step is. No; I must take care of daily needs of myself and family, do the best I can to prayerfully thank God for what He provides, and cultivate a gracious attitude towards myself and the people around me.

While I may not know God's "agenda" for my life in a specific sense, here's one thing I know: I can only do one thing at a time. God made me a finite human being, capable of truly focusing well on any one given task. When I spend my energy imagining a multitude of tasks I can't reasonably accomplish in my allotted time, I'm being wasteful, and I'm not helping my attitude or my family. If instead I focus on enjoying the one thing that's been given me to do in the moment (read with my daughter) or that I choose to do in my free time (knit a soft grey hat), I feel happier, and I feel more of a sense of fulfillment in whatever I'm doing.

For the past week or so, I've been hearing "one thing at a time" running through my mind, and the simplified approach has helped my attitude and emotional state, even though my circumstances have not changed. I've felt more productive, even though I'm probably not actually doing any more than I would have had my attitude not shifted.

Praise God that He asks us for simple (though not always easy!) things:

"Mankind, He has told you what is good
and what it is the Lord requires of you:
to act justly,
to love faithfulness,
and to walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8)

Micah 6:8 describes God's agenda for me and for everyone. How the agenda works itself out in the day-to-day, well, I hope I'll answer that question one thing at a time.

Learning from Jane

I finished listening to Jane Eyre the other day. Jane (as I like to affectionately call it) is my favorite book, and every reading it seems I catch something new in it, usually based on where I am in life at the time. This listen proved no exception; in fact, two elements stood out to me this go around - one an exhortation, the other an encouragement. We all need both of those from time to time!

Lately I've been a complainer. Realistically, I've always been a complainer. My personality tends towards pessimism and at the same time perfectionism. The combination of straining for gold while seeing only dirt can lead me to voice a constant stream of negativity. My complaining doesn't help anyone in my family, and it might hurt me most of all, since I am not content when I'm complaining. Constant lack of contentment eats away at me so that I feel downcast when, objectively, there's nothing wrong. Indeed, I have much to be thankful for.

The exhortation from Jane came over the course of the whole book as I paid attention to the bones of her life. Partly determined by time in history, partly by her station, Jane's life is simple. She doesn't have the expectation that entertainment should always be available at her fingertips. She doesn't begrudge hard work, diligent study, or the consequences of her own actions. In each stage of her life, she is satisfied with sometimes menial, day-to-day tasks and fellowship with a few people whom she calls friends.

Where is my satisfaction with the little things? If I have a roof over my head, food to eat, clothes to wear, and a few people to love and care for, should I not be content? If I have daily chores to accomplish and can even find time in my schedule, however brief, for doing something merely for my own refreshment, should I not call myself blessed?

Jane's encouragement, like her exhortation, deals with contentment. Since having a baby and leaving my full-time job, I've struggled with feeling like some part of me is being wasted and - what's more frightening - might be wasting away. Daily care of a one-year-old is, simply put, boring. There's nothing particularly intellectually engaging about singing silly songs, reading simple books, and mopping up messes from the floor under the kitchen table. Sometimes I hear a nagging voice telling me that I'm missing something in life now that I have stepped away from the adult, productive world into a world of little things.

When Jane accepts a humble teaching position from Mr. Rivers, she steps into a world of little things compared with what she has known previously:

". . . I accept it with all my heart."

 "But you comprehend me?" he said. "It is a village-school: your scholars will be only poor girls . . . What will you do with your accomplishments? What, with the largest portion of your mind - sentiments - tastes?"

"Save them till they are wanted. They will keep."

They will keep. Those words reassure me as I wonder if my "former life" is all pointless now. When will I again need to use what I learned back then? Maybe never in the ways I was accustomed to before, but probably in some unexpected ways my previous learning and experience will come into play again. If nothing else, I know God made me for Himself and put those learning opportunities, talents, interests, and work experiences in my path and in my heart for many reasons, even if I don't know now what the reasons will be in the future.

As a stay-at-home mom, may I learn to be content with the simple things, be thankful for the beautiful blessings God sends my way every day (bubble baths, tickles and giggles, tiny adorable outfits on my little one), and trust that the place I am now is important. Whatever is most valuable that God has woven into the fabric of my life is still being developed right now, and if any part is "on hold," it will keep.