On Monday mornings I do my grocery pickup. I drive up, they load the back of my car with my groceries and I drive home. It’s glorious!
But when I got home and began unloading and putting things away in my kitchen, all of a sudden I just felt a wave of sadness wash over me. There was no one thing that brought it about. It was just an overwhelming feeling of being…well…overwhelmed.
I think it may have something to do with this newfound awareness of the fact that what is weird about our lives these days has now somehow become more normal. And that when we go back to normal it will feel weird.
Here in Oregon, kids are not back in school, there are still many restrictions and mandates (we are listed in the top 10 most restricted states) and every time I leave the comfort of my home and venture out I am reminded of these strange times we’ve been living in now for 8 months.
I stood there holding a carton of eggs in one hand and a box of pasta in the other and felt paralyzed as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. What I really wanted to do was just crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head and not come out for the rest of the day. But as I forced myself to keep putting away the groceries, I spotted the can of pureed pumpkin in a bag and decided that we needed some pumpkin bread in this house stat! And then I decided that I didn’t care if it’s still only October, I was going to listen to some instrumental Christmas music while I pulled together the ingredients because I knew it would lift my spirits.
As I sifted flour and added spices, the doorbell rang. I assumed it was an Amazon delivery (always a safe assumption) but when I peeked around the corner I saw my neighbor’s face in the window. My dear neighbor who has stage four cancer. I hurried over to open the door and she handed me a plate of pumpkin bars. She said that she was so grateful for all we’d been doing to help them (seriously so little in the scheme of things!) and that she had felt well enough yesterday to do some of her own baking. We chatted for a few minutes before she had to go and as I went back into the kitchen to finish preparing the bread I felt overwhelmed again. But this time with a totally different emotion.
It was gratitude to the Lord for the perspective He had just given me in the form of my hurting neighbor. Here I am wallowing in how strange my life feels while she is battling a terminal illness. Now, does that mean that I’m not allowed to feel my feelings and struggle with the things that feel hard in my own life? Of course not. God knows the number of hairs on my head and He wants me to bring everything to Him. But, I also believe that He wants me to put them in their proper place.
Perspective is actually a gift that He gives us. It’s an opportunity to realign our hearts so that we see our circumstances through His eyes and shift our attitude as a result. It doesn’t make our problems go away. But it does change how we see them. And I, for one, am so grateful for that reminder today.
What is helping you to change your perspective lately? Let’s chat!