Daniel spent Saturday with a friend. When they dropped him off, he entered through the backdoor and went about his evening. Sunday morning, we walked onto the front porch toward the car and Daniel froze. “So, when did we get front steps?”
While Daniel was gone the previous day, my husband built the steps leading onto the front porch. We all stared. “Daddy built them yesterday,” Carter replied.
“Oh. Wow.” Daniel walked up and down the stairs, trying them out.
“Wait. Didn’t you come outside earlier and feed the cats?” I asked.
“Uh huh.”
“You didn’t notice the steps then?” I asked.
“Well, no. I was feeding and petting the cats.”
All I could do was shake my head. He totally missed them.
Like usual, God had a lesson for me as a result of this little scene. As many of you know, I’m struggling with some physical issues. Lately, instead of looking for solutions, I found myself wallowing. Like a pig. Enjoying the yucky mud.
Yes, I have physical limitations and I’m having to moderate my activities, however, I’m still able to move and be active—just carefully and with great restraint. Wallowing means I’m sedentary. And if anyone truly knows me, then they know how hard it is for me to stay in a sedentary place for very long.
This morning, I got up and went for a short walk BEFORE my pain escalated. 3300 steps seems like a miniscule amount, but instead of whining and wishing I could be more active, I did something about it. Somehow, I’ve become blinded to the reality that I could try walking in the morning. I’ve always exercised in the morning, but I guess the pain and frustration has been holding me hostage and blinding my vision.
Just like Daniel suddenly realized we had new stairs, I, too, realized I have other options to not lose my muscle tone. I may not be able to play pickleball for ten hours a week yet, but I can get up each morning and go for a walk while there is a slight chill in the air and still a hint of pep in my step. Even fifteen minutes is better than nothing.
How about you? Are you distracted by other situations, blinded to a new reality? Step back and look at things from a new perspective. Run up and down that new set of stairs and see it fresh for the first time. Like me, it may just be the change that allows hope to come back in view.