Second chances have a way of making you thankful for so many things. Even thankful for things you could never see a reason to be thankful for.
While I was sick with Covid this spring, I wasn’t sure if I would survive. There is a tiredness that comes with being extremely ill.. that has a lot to do with oxygen levels being so low.. and struggling for each breath.. and a lot to do with your body being exhausted in its battle. I found myself wondering if my body had enough strength to give the medicine a chance to work.
I was content with whatever decision God had for me… and very thankful that His decision was for me to finish what I started on this Earth.
With each baby step of healing came Second Chances to do things I may never have gotten a chance to do again.
Second chances to do things I love.. like stand outside … or listen to my kids talk and laugh and sing… take more photos… sing while I cleaned…
Second chances to snuggle with my family on the couch and tell them how much they mean to me.
I also got Second chances to be thankful for things I was not thankful for before. Like Dairy-Free/Gluten-free fake cream cheese in jalapeño poppers. Or Gluten-free/Dairy-free Oreos ..
I know.. I know..
WHY would I be thankful for something that sounds so tasteless?
I completely agree.. and I felt the same way…
… before…
.. but after spending a week in the hospital where we struggled to find food on their menu that I could eat?
I was so thankful for a second chance to fall in love with foods that replaced the 49 food allergies/intolerances that I have.
Over the last 6 months?
I have found so many second chances to love my crazy life within the crazies.
But the second chance that I am the most thankful for?
They say that procrastination is the arrogant assumption that God will give you another chance to do a specific task.
I have arrogantly assumed that I would have a tomorrow to do the things I love most.
“I can write later.. I can be me later..”
“Today I am too busy doing what everyone else has asked… tomorrow I will do what I had intended.”
Finishing the books I had started… now I have that second chance.
Sharing the joy I have found through my Faith and my family… now I have a second chance.
Sharing the knowledge I have found through all my research.. now I have a second chance.
Sometimes… in this busy world?
… we put off what means the most to us because we feel the things we “should” do are more important…
…but what is the point of being us.. if we never enjoy who we are..
… what is the point of having gifts… if we never use them..
I’m not saying I’m going to stop throwing a frisbee for my huge puppies… and I’m definitely not going to stop taking care of my kids…
… but I am saying that I am thankful for a second chance to carve out a chunk of the day to ALSO do things important to the core of Julie.
What about you?
If you were lying in the hospital .. concentrating on each breath?
When I was a little girl, if I wanted to talk to my dad alone.. I knew I could usually find him in his garage. His garage was well used, so it was a little dirty .. and a little oily… and usually had someone’s car parked in it.
I can still smell it. Like old motor oil combined with the damp… and the smell of the trees blowing in from the open door.
I would walk right in… and sit on the floor of my Dad’s garage.
And I was never more content.
Why was I on the floor?
Because my dad was usually under the car… fixing it… and it was easier to talk to him from down there on the floor.
And talk I did .. from what I remember. But I also remember sitting in silence while he worked.
While I sat there, my dad occasionally asked me to hand him a tool. Sometimes I guessed the tool correctly.. but occasionally he would hold the tool I handed him for a moment… and then ask me for the tool he needed again. That time he would describe it to me.
So patient.
And I’d try again.
Sometimes more than once.
For me.. that memory is what my prayer space feels like.
A garage? …you ask…
Why not the image of a church.. or a sunny meadow…? Or a flower garden?
For me?
While sitting on my dad’s floor… I felt loved, and safe… and heard.
The same way I feel when I pray.
This last year has been a difficult one for me.
So much anger in this world… so much injustice… so much sadness…
… and some of my favorite people getting sick…
I have always told people that I won’t sit and wait for a storm to pass… I’ll find a way to dance in the rain…
… but this last year…?
This year I have found myself sitting on the floor of my Father’s garage..
…talking to God while He works on the world.
I’ve found myself bringing my prayers to Him.. like a child. Bringing my disappointments and sadness …
… sometimes I just sit in silence… letting His love seep into me…
.. and occasionally God asks me to help Him..
.. sometimes I do a good job of guessing what is needed.. but sometimes I need to listen a second .. or even third time before I am success at using my gifts for what He intended.
Especially this year… it feels like it is so hard to use the gifts I have been given.
.. writing..
.. encouraging..
.. all of gifts… left in that tool box ..
But as I sit in the quiet.. on the floor with my Father?
Jules Nelson 