When I was in kindergarten, the principal of my school explained that in a few years it would be 1988 and we would be celebrating the bicentenary of our nation. As a five year old sponge, I had absolutely no idea what this meant, but I soaked up her excitement and learnt that years were something to look forward to and never mourn the loss of.
So with each new year I am excited, but that part of me, that is still a little girl, really can’t see past 1988. 2011? Amazing!
Now what blessings has this year brought so far:
1. A bonfire on new years eve in my parents back yard – loved it!
2. My dad fell down stairs at his home, but he came off lightly with stitches.
3. I rolled my ankle, cracking the bone and injuring the tendon – but it isn’t that bad.
I’ve decided to call 2& 3 blessings, because they both could’ve been so much worse. I was lucky to experience 2 extreme kinds of pain within a 48 hour period which is hard to frame as a blessing, so I am working through it.
The first pain, was one of anticipated loss – I genuinely believed that I might lose my dad. The news from Coffs initially was so sketchy. He was unconscious, his head was cracked and there was so much blood. In the minutes/hours/ages, it took to verify what had happened and the prognosis – I think the pain was one of the worst I’d ever felt emotionally. Nobody is ever ready to lose someone they love. I can only imagine what my mum went through when she found him at the bottom of the stairs.
And yet, it is a blessing because he was not injured further and he might have learnt something and I might have learnt something too.
The second pain occurred with my ankle. Really excrutiating physical pain. The pain killers I was given only made me more sick on the stomach and the relief of sleep was broken up into teeny tiny bits by the uncomfort of wearing a cam boot to bed to prevent the cramping of my leg muscles in the morning. Where on earth is the blessing in this? Really?
The blessing came in the shape of my mum & dad, arriving by plane to take care of me. Like any grown woman, I had to wrestle with my pride a good deal, before it would lay down and be taken care of. Still it has been a good four days now and with David overseas and the kids being looked after by his parents, I’ve had this amazing time just being with my parents. Yes, a little bit like a little kid.. but also as an adult able to say – I’m hurt please help me.
In the scheme of things, my little injury is nothing at all. The recent flooding in QLD and now VIC has left people dead or without any place to call home. Thousands upon thousands of people are impacted and while we can wish all the very best things for them, the only thing that matters right now is real, roll-up-the-shirt-sleeves, help. It’s one of the hardest things to ask for, and yet one of the easiest things to give.
I hope that friendships are made, that courage is reborn, that the light that can shine from the soul of one to another dries up the drowned landscape. I hope that beyond solutions to their immediate problems, the survivors are given comfort in their time of loss. I hope that above all else, they know it is okay to ask and to get a whole heap of help.