Throw Up and Thank Yous

Ten years ago, if someone had a crystal ball and was able to peer into the future and tell me that I'd be spending new year's eve 2016 at home with a sick, vomiting baby and I'd actually be okay with it, I would have told them they needed a new crystal ball. But here I am, 11:00 on New Year's Eve 2016, with just myself and a sick baby at home, and I'm not only totally fine with it, I'm actually really, really thankful.

You see, I've always been one who likes control, and wants everything to go . . . well . . . my way. Not an unusual trait, but the older I got, the more aware I was of how unconducive to happiness this tendency was -- the inability to roll with life's punches. I'd get bent up out of shape over bad traffic, or my jeans fitting too tightly (well . . . still kinda do mind that one), I'd huff and puff if my computer acted up, or if my husband was home late from work. I couldn't hand life's little hiccups, never mind life's huge upchuck moments such as tonight. As a mom, this was difficult, because life hands you a whole lot more upsets once you throw kids into the mix.

For years, my greatest, most constant prayer was that I would be able to accept life and all up its unexpected upsets with grace, calm, and strength. I didn't dare pray to accept it with joy, that would be too much for even God to achieve in my mind. For years, I prayed this prayer, but didn't see it realized. I'd still freak out when things went wrong and felt flustered by little, normal, everyday challenges.

But I have to say, after the past two nights, I realize that I have come a long way, and that God is big enough to teach me to have joy even in my suffering.
First off, last night -- it started off going well. I hadn't eaten much that day as I had spent most of it trying to check off my long list of things to do. But it was okay, I was going with my husband and five boys to Red Lobster to meet my parents and sister for a nice, family dinner. At least, that's what I thought . . . Instead, I had barely finished my first biscuit when my 10 month old son, Aaron, vomited all over me. I quickly excused myself, rushed outside to my van, and then did what any reasonable person would do -- I stripped off all of my vomit soaked clothing, along with Aaron's, threw on a scarf and a baby blanket to try to cover myself and waited for someone in my party to come and check on me so I could tell them I had to go home. Of course, I could have called them as I waited in the car, naked, and hoping against all hope that no one peered inside my non-tinted minivan windows. But I left my phone at home. I ALWAYS have my phone with me when I leave the house. But nope. Not tonight. That would make this too easy.

So there I sat. And sat. And sat. And no one came. By the way, side note, but why do people have to drive huge, jacked up trucks? It makes it very uncomfortable for naked people who are trying to go undetected in their vans to remain undetected when large, waaay too high up trucks pull up in front of them. Anyways, back to the story...

Oh yes, So there I sat. And no one from my family came. So I pulled up to the curb and flagged down some poor teenage girl and tried to get her to get the hostess to alert my party that I needed them outside. Maybe she noticed I was only wearing a bra and a scarf, maybe she noticed I had vomit in my hair, maybe she was just a teenager and had no idea how to handle the crazy woman who was telling her to get someone outside since I was naked and covered in vomit, who knows, but for whatever reason, she did not in fact get help.

So I drove off. And home I went -- Hungry, naked, alone, and worried for my party. But you know what? I wasn't that upset. I wasn't exactly thrilled by what happened, but I was handling it. I was handling this curve ball, albeit, not with grace per se, but still, I was good.

Then, come's the next nigh -- tonight. It's New Year's Eve, I'm at a friend's house with my entire family, and we're about to watch the fireworks her husband's setting up in the yard, when guess who gets thrown up on again? Yes, me! And it's exactly like the night before -- my shirt's soaked, my pants are soaked, my baby is soaked. And it quickly hits me; I am not going to be ringing in the New Year with fireworks and friends. I am going to be going home with my baby to wash vomit off the two of us.

But you know what? Not only did I accept this little upset of life with grace, calm, and strength -- I found JOY in it!! There I was, sitting in the bath with my sick, but so, so cute baby boy. We both were enjoying the bath and were using the water as a drum of sorts and were pounding away making as much noise as we could as we splashed together. And I was happy. I am happy. Nothing went according to plan, I have no idea if I will get any sleep tonight, or if I will be thrown up all over again, but I am okay. Things are okay. Even though they are not.

So tonight, my friends, as I reflect on being thrown up on in public (again), and missing out on family and friend gatherings, and enduring another long night with a sick baby, I can honestly saw I am beyond happy and JOYFUL! Why? Because I can see that a blessing I've wanted for so long in my life has come to fruition. I couldn't think of a better way to end 2016 -- God does answer prayers! In his own time, and in his own way, but he does answer them. I am living proof! I never in a million years thought this type of night could have been a night where I still had peace and joy, but it was. God is a miracle worker. I know it might not seem like a miracle to others, but this is certainly a miracle for uptight, control freak me. So tonight, I say thank you God, thank you for throw up and curve-balls, and not leaving me as I was, but making me so much better. Here's to throw up and thank yous!