Acceptance

November 29, 2009

Yesterday I was home alone all day long. I decided to go out to the Mission for a little time of solitude, reflection, and prayer. I'm not Catholic, but there's something about the place, the reverence and beauty of it that centers me rather quickly. Little did I know there was some sort of event going on outside the Mission and that the place would be buzzing with tourists. No matter. I walked into the church and sat down and started to pray.

As I prayed, I realized the words I was using this time were much different than other times I'd gone out to the Mission to pray. There was desperation in my pleading with God in the past. I wasn't asking for things I wanted. I was begging with him, telling him what I thought my limits were, letting him know I was barely holding on. Not this time. And honestly? I felt a little silly this time. Oh God, you know I want a baby so badly. I have so much love to give. And then the thought hit me, Then why aren't you giving it? You don't have to wait for a baby to give the love you have.

Something has happened to me recently, my experience at the Mission being only one part of the realization process. I've realized that I am going to miss out on a huge chunk of goodness in my life if I keep focusing on what I do not have, because really, I have SO much.

Today I went to the grocery store and as I was getting out of my car, there was an elderly couple, I would guess in their 80's, getting out of their car too. I looked at the woman and thought, She could have had a stillbirth. I'm sure she has seen more heartache and tragedy in her long life than I could imagine. Life goes on. It does. And I can choose to feel sorry for myself and the losses I've experienced, the things I don't have, or I can be grateful for the goodness in my life. Today I choose to be grateful.

My heart feels so full in choosing gratitude. Right now I'm sitting in front of the fireplace, laptop on my lap, sleeping dog by my side, (husband in the other room watching football), Christmas music playing and a cranberry apple crisp in the oven. Oh, such buttery sweetness filling the room! I don't want to miss the goodness any longer because I'm distracted by what I think should be.

Isn't this called the acceptance stage of grief?