2017 and I did not get off on the right foot.
I was taking a shower. (Hot water and I are besties) but the water suddenly got a little too hot.
And, subsequently a loud POP sounded. Queue the sound of rushing water in places it shouldn’t be (i.e. the recently constructed tile wall of your one year long shower project) and you have yourself a pregnant, soaking wet, rather sour woman on your hands. (Sorry, honey.)
The husband quickly and efficiently turned off the water and began repairing the damage.
Then came the call.
When my mom calls, it’s usually a nice event. We chat. I share stories about the kids. She shares stories of me when I was a kid and how it relates to my kids. A grand old time.
Not this evening.
This evening was to tell me my grandmother was in the E.R. and that her sugar was so high it was a miracle she wasn’t in a coma.
Of course, I went to the E.R.
Shortly after arriving, the results of my grandmother’s scans came back and we were informed she had a brain tumor.
Weird how stuff like that works. She almost died, but if she hadn’t have almost died, she would’ve most likely been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and been on round the clock care with no quality of life.
I try not to think about the what-if’s. I’m just thankful she’s alive.
The next few weeks were a blur of hospital visits, phone calls, college course work, actual work-work, and trying to figure out why my husband had been sick for almost a year and was only getting worse.
I won’t say the whole of 2017 sucked, because the last 2 months were pretty darn good.
But when I say 2017 it took you 10 months to get your junk together, I am not exaggerating.
Last year was endurance training. It was stamina building. It was a year of refining.
I found out what I was made of, I can say that much.
I welcomed a new child into this world.
But I said goodbye to a friend.
My grandmother celebrated her 70th birthday.
I struggled to care properly for my family while my better half struggled through each and every work day.
We made financial breakthrough.
I felt beat down, bruised, and broken by my circumstances.
Ultimately, I’m grateful.
I know what I’m made of. And I know that God is good.
My husband is healing. My grandma is healing. My children are growing.
And my family survived.
For me, 2018 is that cliched idea of a clean slate. I’m ready for a new year.
So, here’s to faith–in little things.