It has been just recently were I found myself carrying the weight of the world again, maybe it had been the end year blues … but don’t we get them all? I felt completely lost, completely uninspired and the more I tried to analyze the situation the worse I made it for myself. I’ve never been one for fancy words but I loved how my words would come alive on a piece of paper and well now with the new generation I guess I should find myself referring to my piece of paper as a screen “Microsoft Windows“ if you want to be a little bit more specific.
Oh and I loved how alive I use to feel when all those words came together and I could read through my thoughts at the end and realise how the end plot would be my missing piece to my lack of self confusion.
The end years blues hit me, it hit myself-esteem it even hit home, and as it hit; the weight of the world seemed to dawn on me. If my daughter wasn’t ill, then I was, If she was sleeping I wasn’t and If I was over tired of lack of sleep so was my partner.
Then I would get those silly emotions were I just felt like crying, and it would irritate me more to feel so out of control. Not really having control over my emotions. I found myself one night in the middle of November 2013 sitting with my partner bawling my eyes out, being so mad at myself and not even realising why, and then being mad at him for not sympathising as much as I wanted him too.
Maybe I wanted the hug or even pity? Instead he didn’t accompany me in the self pity he gave me one of those hard talks; one of those “eyes looking up through your mascara drained lashes shamelessly feeling guilty for feeling so pitiful “ and he gave me a good get out of this pity hole talks.
I recall him saying “she’s healthy now (referring to our daughter) and I get that you had a rough year but you need to get use to it”. (No remorse just get over it look from him.) “My mind making that puppy frown, oh I hate it when his right look” -Pout. It got me thinking about how ‘un-tough” this year actually was comparing to the previous ones and how fortunate I really am, how much I had grown as a person even the life lessons I have learned had made me who I am today.
That next week had past and I found myself Praying and for the first time I didn’t pray as 21 year old mother who had so much still to learn, I didn’t pray with big words I always thought I should, I prayed holding my daughter as she was sleeping and prayed as if I was 4 years old again.
I said thank you, for all the little things in life I often forgot to say thank you for, I said thank you for my parents, and my partner and my daughter and even thanked God for her health.
I said thank you for the rain and how nice it was to have the ability to smell and enjoy an unforgettable scent, one that only freshly poured rains from the heavens on summers green grass could give.
No; this isn’t an essay on what big a Christian I am at all, but I remember someone very special and dear to my heart saying over and over again as if I hadn’t heard it before. “Debbie, how can God bless us with more prosperity if we aren’t Thankful for what we already have”? I never understood Gods ways, some things had definitely become clearer over the years but all and all God’s plan had always turned out particularly better then what I had ever imagine planning for myself.
That night when I prayed I told God that I was sorry that I didn’t say thank you more often then I should have, and I said sorry for all my complaining and for complaining more then I should; even my 19 month year old daughter would confirm mom sometimes “naf naf’s a little more then she should.
I also asked the dear Lord to teach me patience because He knows I don’t have much of it, never been on my memo. That night after my silent prayer there had been stillness in my heart that was swimming through my veins like a divine release of oxygen making me feel as though I felt what it was like to breathe again for the first time in a very long while.
As I lied on the bed with a healthy child in my arms, and even after all these years where some had stolen my innocence; I realised that there’s a innocence in praying to God, a purity I didn’t have until that night. There’s a pureness that so untouchable that it can only be felt by the heart a pureness of just being able to feel the emotion of love that we seldom forget we have that ability to do so.
My mind and spirit for the first time had been calmed and silenced by thankfulness of feeling the Holy Spirit by my side reliably once more. So I started writing again, and all these feelings that I have kept inside for so many months had needed there let out desperately, yet whenever I wanted to write I would hit point blank. It frustrated me so much. Then just the other night I was sitting in the lounge with my Folks and Leabelle’s Grandfather had asked her to bring the plastic bag full of 2 Papayas. She was being nosy like all children at almost two years of age are. Though she gave her Grandfather one look as if to say ”Challenge accepted”.
She took her tiny two hands and tried to figure out how to hold the plastic bag without letting it fall to the ground. So she picked up the bag and took small steps towards where we were sitting. Oh, that look of determination on her face was priceless so much concentration had been put into it.
That bag must have been so heavy for her to carry, but she gave it a go ... She walked stumbling like a little penguin, dropped the bag and just as I was about to stand up to go help her, she tried once more.
There I stood dumbfounded by the small body and her minds determination, and with a disarmed feeling of shame I realised that there and then she was trying harder to lift that bag then I was to practise my own wisdom in my own life.
There might not have been a deeper meaning of this moment that I had experienced with her but I had to read into it even if it was just to get what message I had to come across with some comparison.
I would have found a lesson if not one that would stay with me forever. You see The problem with most of us are we don’t believe like children anymore, and who can blame us when crime, and fear and life’s normal distress tends to lead us into a different route, and yes we don’t get to have the luxury of being careless like children anymore but we do have a choice.
A choice we forgot we have. A choice to believe in something Higher than us without any slight hint of doubt, A belief that’s so powerful , just like children who believe in Santa Claus. We also have a choice to be fearless, keep going even if the Papaya bag is too heavy for our small arms to carry. That’s when we decide to stay determined enough to try harder.
Even if that Papaya bag falls to the ground that we have enough faith in God to trust that somehow He will give us the strength to try again, or even carry it Himself for us.
We have a choice to be Thankful and say thank you. Leabelle chose to challenge herself, she didn’t fear failing or not succeeding because she might have known that even though if she didn’t Mommy would still help her if she asked. She knew that I wouldn’t love her any less.
I asked myself how is it possible for that small person to not be discouraged so easily, maybe it’s because she hasn’t been taught to feel it yet, or maybe it’s because she still too young to understand the feeling.
One day when she is older I will tell her the story of the “Papaya bags“ by then she would maybe understand the deeper significance to the story she told me without even knowing it. A lesson I will carry close to my conscious and never let it rest too much in my subconscious. The end Year Blues had soon after this stepped aside its self, and I had a new week, one full of many little blessings. Although I knew that my faith would never reach that of a child ever again I would try though to believe more like one.