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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS (Don't write about the song) (04/16/15)
Dearest Father:

I'm finally carving out time for You - and, as before - You must endure my litany of woe, albeit intermingled with my gratitude for You and Jesus . . .

It's been a true time of testing, and I, ever the pure fool, fail so many times. I sturdily resolve to turn my stinging reddened cheek, and knowing me - I must sit on my claw-shaped hands to prevent striking back, and must keep my rebellious tongue from uttering spiteful retaliation.

I cannot count my blessings without silently weeping over the rough un-blessings lived with a family enduring physical and mental trauma daily. I weep over so many suffering in this world, and I am unable to ease the suffering in my own home.

But You can - and will. Thank you.

I spend almost every moment with my bedbound husband, nestled at his side. The television blares colorfully exciting adventure movies to occupy his time, and I sit with laptop playing inane, sometimes insane word games to enliven my addlepated grey matter. Inciting brain cells to riot rather than rot.

I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

I grow lazy, forgoing make-up, forgetting to style my slowly silvering hair, permanently perched on the unmade bed in loud floral caftans. Our friends are now accustomed to seeing me this way - was I too vain to have them see the real me?

And yet they come, and still love me.


I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

I have gone through many computers, keying crazy and sometimes sobering tales of joys and woes. But most often, I am addicted to those enlightening word games that prove I have lost my once fabulous spelling chops.

But I am stretching those weakening brain cells, no?

I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

I am encouraged, nay - forced to pound the keys once weekly, adding article to story to prose and poetry to delight and sometimes annoy anyone who will listen to my recitations.

At least it keeps me off the streets.

I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

I am so discomfited by my uncooperative body that bed sitting satisfies and sedates me too well - and my beloved, stretched out beside me is close enough to hug and kiss. With him to love and play with - who needs more? He won't let me sleep until he tells me a zillion times that he loves me.

A few Sabbaths ago, our family that I was the Proverbs 31 KJV wife . . .

I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

We have in-home care, about four hours daily. The caregiver prepares outstanding and semi-nutritious breakfasts, and I happily drown in maple syrup. I miss cooking - but I don't miss breaking food-filled dishes to delight our impatiently waiting pup.

She washes dishes too.


I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.


My hubby is concerned about the utilities, and well we should be. The skyrocketing electric, water and sewer costs, escalating without the comfort of Social Security compensation.

Praise You, Father - we make it to the end of the month . . .


I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

Excuse me - I have to find out why the alarm is alarming us. And admonish our boarder to not leave the lights or the television on when she leaves the room to go outside or to the bathroom. And not to run the water overmuch.

Please touch her Lord - she fears she has cancer . . .

I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

Writing is my chief earthly joy, and concentrating while bedsitting, with the entrancing pull of the television, adds fluidity to my stomping fingers. I write like I talk - which, in itself is dangerous and often confusing.

But fun and funny . . .


I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

I take two to three hour naps, enabling me to keep my love company for the long night hours when his pain keeps us miserably awake. I read stories honoring You aloud. I get grouchy, and tiredness creates dull monotones instead of sparkling liveliness as I read.

It puts me to sleep . . .

If we can't count sheep, we best count our blessings - and thanks to You, Lord, we are blessed beyond human belief.

Your blessings overwhelm us. Thank You.

I am so blessed despite my grumbling wisecracks.

Thank you Lord, for listening to my litany of troubles, which appear to be insignificant now . . .

Please use us to bless others in Your Holy Name. We love You.

Hallelujah!
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This article has been read 1154 times
Member Comments
Member
Date
Diane M. Bowman
04/25/15
And as you showed, the moment we take our eyes off our surroundings and turn them to God, our grumbling turns to praise. And God inhabits the praise of his people.

And you are a blessing to your husband.
Rachel Barrett
04/25/15
The feeling of an inner monologue was very engaging in this piece. And the message had a lot of depth!
Toni Babcock 
04/26/15
I didn't know it before, but now I know for sure you are blessed despite your grumbling wisecracks. Humorous and poignant at the same time - I enjoyed reading your story.
Leigh MacKelvey
04/27/15
Oh how I enjoyed the read! It was great and I love your writing! The repeating line made me smile each time! That was a good tool to use in writing this particular piece and you chose to use it well. I hope I see this in the EC's! You left out a few words, but it's so hard to proofread and even when I proofread a hundred times, I still manage to omit a word. So sure you know that and have already slapped your head! Good use of images throughout.
C D Swanson 
04/27/15
Excellent moving and touching story that held my attention from the first to last word!

Thanks for sharing your heart with us.

God bless~
C D Swanson 
04/30/15
Congrats

God bless~