The sound of vacuuming

Has the sound of vacuuming ever filled your heart with joy? Yeah, it doesn't usually do it for me either, but this morning was different. This morning, as I was laying on my bed watching a sermon on tv, having missed church because I just didn't feel well yet again, the sound of the vacuum cleaner made its way up the stairs and suddenly I found myself smiling. You see, if finally dawned on me that I am blessed.
For the past five years, I have been fighting one illness after another, and sometimes more than one at a time, and as I have spent days on end in bed, my husband and kids have stepped up to the plate and carried the load that I used to carry, cooking and cleaning, running errands, etc. I cannot even begin to tell you how much guilt I have felt about this over the course of the last few years!
This morning, however, the reality of the matter hit me with the sound of the vacuum cleaner running. I am blessed. No, really. I mean this in all seriousness. I am honestly and truly blessed. For whatever reason, God has seen fit to allow me to be afflicted with some pretty serious medical conditions, but during that time, He has blessed me with a family that willingly and without complaint, will work together to care for the house, and care for me. (The kids do complain about the work sometimes, but they aren't complaining that I'm not working. They just don't want to have to work. They would do that if I was sick or not.)
I also just realized that I have been looking at my illnesses as just that, mine. But they aren't just mine. They are ours. They affect the whole family. I may be the one who is sick, but my illnesses will have a lifelong impact on all of us, and for me to try to pretend they won't is naive.
And with that, my brain is tired and foggy, so I must depart. Until later, my friends! My, it is good to be back into the vast world of blogging :-).