Counting My Blessings  (an old favorite of mine by Bing Crosby)

When I’m worried and I can’t sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
When my bankroll is getting small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
 

I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads
And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds
If you’re worried and you can’t sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep
And you’ll fall asleep counting your blessings

We’ve been having little things happen here and there that test patience.  The past six weeks days have been difficult for my daughter who has been in nagging pain and awaiting a surgeon’s guidance in resolving an internal tear in her abdomen.  We went on a short camping trip (with the aid of a wheelchair for her) and the first day the entire plumbing system flooded our RV.  I used up all the towels and blankets to soak the water away from, well, away from everything.  We dry camped for the weekend, putting a kink in any kind of cooking.  I had chosen the campsite for its beauty, not for its bath house, and had difficulty getting all these girls clean with their pretty hair washed … with a campground shower where the water trickled out of the shower nozzle in a freezing stall. The boys did just fine with a full powered hot stream of water.

Returning home, James went busily back to a six day work week, rising at 4 am and quitting at 9 pm.  In the mean time, the cold germ took down my children one by one.  And midweek the weather prediction was freezing rain and sleet, so Emily and I took off to do all the shopping for the month.  (This is the big shopping spree.)  We left at 8:30 am and completed all errands and shopping at about 3:30 pm with a packed van and stuffed coolers.  As I backed out of my parking space, a woman waved me down and said my van was gushing fluid.  I was able to get the van to roll into an abandoned spot in the parking lot and then it died.  Sure enough, whatever was gushing was now down to the last drip and drop.  James arrived a few hours later and in the freezing, pouring rain put the transmission hose back together and filled it.  After he finished, soaked to the skin, he looked at me tenderly, humorously, and with a twinkle in his eye said,  “Dear, the next time the van breaks down, please don’t park it in the pathway of a parking lot drain.”  He had been washed over by the stream of water rushing toward that drain as he laid on his back on the concrete.  The temperature outside was in the 30s. 

Over the next day, I came down with two illnesses, and then succumbed to a third when I caught the cold.

You could accurately say that I feel pretty crummy.  Years ago I asked James when were things going to be normal at our house.  He looked at me with a funny smile and said, “This IS normal.”

Now this is normal life for a family of nine.  Last night I had children all over the den in sleeping bags, tissue boxes strategically placed along with water bottles, and my own set-up on the sofa where my head can be propped in hopes that maybe I can breathe through my nose.  I dozed here and there between helping children, letting the dog out whom I forgot to let out earlier, and then  of all things the kids across the street came in late with the music blaring in their car.  This wakes me often since their curfew is later than my bedtime, and I have been practicing immediate forgiveness and am using those waking moments for prayer time.  Somewhere around 4 am it dawned on me that I had taken about six naps and that this would probably define my night of sleep.

One of the things I have learned about being a mommy of so many people is that the little naps count and counting my blessings count.  I am now preparing for tonight where little ones are more sick than last night and where I feel considerably worse.  I’m still counting my blessings. 

As for counting sheep, well around this house that would mean counting up how many ounces of raw fiber can be sheered off of a sheep for spinning on the spindles and the new Schacht Matchless spinning wheel.  So I’ll just count my blessings, which are many from the hand of the Lord, including the dear lady who made possible the purchase of the new wheel and on top of that gave Emily a weaving lesson at no charge.  God is good to send such giving people into our lives.