11/19/2005: "Doing what I can do, cheerfully & whole-heartedly"
I was discussing problems associated with my disorder with my Dad the other night. He mentioned a woman he knew who was now in a wheelchair after one of those terrible accident with heavy machinery, and how she has discovered what she can do, and grouses a little from time to time about what she can't. How she holds out the slimmest sliver of hope that she could someday walk again, but that she accepts the reality of now--she's confined to the wheelchair.
I realized that I had lost sight of this in recent weeks. I'd become lost in the seas of my shattered mind, terrified that I would lose everything.
Last year I made a determination that I would not let this disorder rob my of the things I valued and treasured most. I renew again that vow, grateful as I look back on the past year and what I have been able to accomplish!
I was able to bring another baby into our family when we knew it was the right time to do so. I was blessed to have medications safe for pregnancy and nursing.
(sidenote--my friend Jaime told me how she praises God when she takes each little pill, a mini-devotional with each capsule, giving thanks for the medicine that allows greater function...I've taken up the practice myself, and what a difference it makes---thank you Jaime!)
My husband has been able to maintain his employment, and continues to excel in his career. Our love is strong and he is so patient with my foibles and symptoms. He blesses me through his priesthood whenever I am in need of such a blessing.
My children love having me as mother, expressing such regularly, and are growing in wisdom, knowledge, charity and with an ever expanding curiousity.
My true friends show their love and kindness over and over. I tend to have trouble asking for help most of the time, but my Dad reminded me that good friends will tell me if I'm asking too much of them.
I am grateful for those extended family members whose love and prayers and sympathy are free-flowing, even if they don't always understand the struggle.
I can love and nurture my family, rearing them to cherish truth and integrity.
There are so many more things I can do, even when my symptoms may preclude other things for the moment.
I am eternally Téa, and no disorder can take that away from me.