In the big scheme of things, that which I sometimes deem problematic is really just another bag full of lemons waiting to be turned into lemonade.
I’m 32 weeks pregnant and waddling around life. Literally. But a baby is coming. Recently (and hilariously, no less) my snoring has gotten so bad that the hubs took to the couch, and I spent my first night sleeping in the guest bed last night. Earplugs did him no good. But the little one just kicked a “hello, mama!” inside me. My eyes are worsening – they say it happens with pregnancy – and the eye doctor doesn’t want to adjust my prescriptions with hopes that it’ll soon adjust back. But, squinty and tired-eyed, I smile with giddiness at the sheer generosity our friends and family have already shown us toward the little man and our future family.
One of my favorite words when I was an English teacher was the little three letter word, “but.” I used to tell my students (and still tell those I’m speaking to) that if and when we see the word “but” we know that whatever was happening in the sentence is about to be flip-turned upside down. A 180 is about to happen, there’s going to be a change of course. And I suppose that’s kind of how it is with a basketful of what could be construed as plain old lemons. Might we see the possibility of sweet lemonade. Might our current, everyday problems instead be quickly followed up with “the but of it,” therefore bringing about a changed perspective of thankfulness.
I leave you with the following for your viewing pleasure, in direct correlation with the (supposed) woes of pregnancy paragraph above: