I have spent this past week trying to get ready for a big garage sale that the towns around my parent's home are having. All week we have been going through every room in our home and pulling out stuff that hasn't seen the light of day in the past year (or in some cases, up to five years). Yesterday we cleaned it all up, priced it and stuffed it all into the back of our big blue van. Even though they take a lot of effort, I do like garage sales. I like browsing them and even having one now and then (although most of the stuff ends up being donated anyway!!).
After a night of storms, it looked as if the rain was going to hold up today, so we were all eagerly anticipating getting out there and having some fun when I did something utterly silly: I bent over and tried to pick up a piece of paper off the floor. At that moment, the pain that shot through my back brought me to my knees and I had to crawl to the bed in order to try to stand up. Now, nothing like this has EVER happened to me before. My husband has this happen to him a couple of times a year, so I knew what to do immediately. Needless to say, our garage sale expedition was brought to a complete halt.
So here I sit, in my few moments of sitting before I go back to lying flat on my back, trying to take some good advice I got from a reader about what all of this means. My first response typically would have been something to the effect of, "Gee, I wonder why God didn't want me to sell my stuff and make some extra money to pay some bills" or "I thought I was trying to do the right thing by simplifying my life and ridding our house of unnecessary items". Instead I am trying to focus on just what it is God wants me to do with the current situation. I am also trying to live in the present moment and not thinking about what this means for our plans this weekend. I do have to say that it has brought out the best in my children. They have been waiting on me hand and foot, helping me to walk when I need to, driving me to the chiropractor, making lunch and taking over potty training our stubborn little three year old. It is moments like this when I get to see that they really have been listening to me all these years. Thanks, kids! Given what I know of myself, I only hope that I can maintain a peaceful attitude throughout this entire ordeal, and not just for a little while.