Sunday morning. Had 2 grandsons over last night and all went relatively smoothly, considering they are still pretty small (3 and 6) and aren’t interested in much except watching superhero cartoons and talking about super hero cartoons. Their parents have since collected them, and I am waiting for my lunch to cool down.
My thoughts have drifted off to my mom, as I get ready for a day of his and hers activities (one for the hubs, one for me) and wonder if I am at my age a match for my mom. Then my next thought is why I had the first thought. Why, after all the work I have done in recovery do I still try to measure up to someone who in some part of my small person space continues to be a larger-than-life character?
As an adult in recovery, for the most part, I have a sober view of things as they are, but as a 6-year-old emotional child, it’s like I am looking at the picture of my mom at 24 all over again, feeling like I was left by the milkman, or that they brought the wrong baby home from the hospital. The bedtime story I most identified with as a child was the ugly duckling, but when it came time for the little duckling to become a beautiful swan, I somehow lost belief that something like that could happen in real life.
So, I pull out my recovery tools this morning and look at the feeling I am going through today. And understand that I may always have the feelings, but it’s what I do with them that is important. I don’t allow the feelings to make me sad, or to cause me to start a lot of negative self-talk. Instead, I start telling God what I’m grateful for. If necessary, I follow the root or trigger. I recall my mother struggling for meaning and purpose, so much so that she immersed herself in astrology, and was adept and reading the materials published on how to figure out someone’s personality and supposed destiny based on the date, time and even location of their birth. Back years ago, people could actually charge for this reading of an astrological chart. I now understand it was my mother’s way of trying to make sense of a world she could not understand and to try and find a destiny, without God.
Again, I look to my recovery and realize what a gift I have in being able to work a program and understand a process for taking me through the rough spots, and that I do have purpose and a destiny. These are things to be grateful for and not to take for granted; many perish for lack of hope and vision.
As we go forth this week, can we also look for opportunities to share our hope and vision with someone who is searching? If we are struggling with our recovery and our vision, can we take that step in faith and reach out for encouragement?
Here, let me start. You are loved by the author of the universe. He loves you, and made you with unique talents and abilities. You and I have a purpose and a mission, this I know is true because our hearts are still beating and we are still breathing.
Much love to you today. ❤