Two years ago, while on a RV vacation throughout the United States, I became seriously ill, which is the reason I’ve been silent on this blog. We cut our holiday short, and after returning home, life became a blur of unawareness, doctor visits, tests, and hospital stays. I even questioned my own survival. But God never left me. I was just too sick to notice.
That changed two days after I was discharged from my last hospital stay. I lay on my couch, trying to concentrate on a television show to no avail. The mess in my home drove me up the wall. I needed to clean, but I lacked the strength to accommodate the emotion. Frustration overtook me.
I shuffled to the kitchen, but on my way through the dining room, my steps froze. My mother’s African violet that hadn’t had a bud on it before I was admitted to the hospital was covered in bright, purple blossoms.
My heart warmed. God. When my world was at its darkest, He always shone a light, reminding me, I was not alone. I returned to my couch, and the small area rug caught my attention. Although it was burgundy, so much orange, white, and gray, cat hair covered it, its color was unrecognizable.
Mustering up all the energy I could, then praying for more, I took my small cordless vacuum from the closet and went to work on the rug. Even if I couldn’t clean my whole house, one small spot looked cared for.
Sometimes, my writing life swamps me in the same way. I set lofty goals and struggled to meet them. So many chapters sit in my inbox, waiting to be critiqued. I need go over edits on a chapter of my own, then finish the scene I was working on in my new novel. The list goes on and on.
But that was before God caught my attention with the violets and showed me with the rug that although I couldn’t clean the whole house, I could do one small part. He taught me to pause, stop looking at the pile of commitments, and concentrate on what I can do now.
It may take me a wee bit longer to accomplish tasks now, but I’ve learned to take a deep breath and remember the violets. When I do, life falls back into perspective.
- Eunice -