"Count it all joy when you face various trials" runs through my head. I am struggling with the late nights, the leaky milk soaking through my old T-shirt, and a hungry, fussy, gassy newborn. During the day she may be happy, but outside the door of the room I'm resting in I hear the other children, fighting over something I can't quite identify. I'm in my room, sequestered away from it all, resting as my body heals postpartum.
A trial? A blessing? Not many women these days have this opportunity, this joy, this loving community to come around and shelter them as their body heals. I'm thankful for it, I bless my family--and my husband in particular, who has made the sacrifice of taking up the mantle of both motherhood and fatherhood for a few weeks while I heal.
Yet, at the same time, it is a struggle to hear all the busy happenings outside my four walls. My job as mother, homemaker, is happening without me. I think I could just walk out there and wipe the tears, or do the dishes, or put a load of laundry away and get some dinner going in the oven--but no. Midwife's orders. Rest. Heal. And this trial of staying in bed to rest--for such a short time--is a blessing, a struggle, a joy all in one. A gift of love, given me by my family and my husband. To reject the blessing wrapped in what can feel like a trial is to reject the love gift. And so I stay put, and I pray, and I rest and I heal, I cuddle my little one and count my joys--but I also look forward to the day not far off when I can embrace a different joy wrapped in a different trial--that of being in the middle of the fray once more, showing love by doing the everyday hard work of a mother.
Count it ALL joy.
(This post is part of the weekly Five Minute Friday link-up!)
