"Those Days"

Ever have one of those days? The kind that makes you wonder if there is a reason for the dark cloud hovering over you; words you don’t usually say out loud dive out in center. “What the?” might slip out, disguised in a cloud of pity.

Yesterday was my turn. After battling with my heavy duty bike lock for five minutes in front of the Doctor’s office, I finally gave up and parked it inside the building under the stairs. (See past blog about bike getting stolen.) Now I regret not listening to my ENT (Ear, Nose & Throat) doctor and having my earwax cleaned out every few months. I let a year go by until they got so clogged I couldn’t hear, like my head was stuffed with a pillow. You might be thinking, “So what? Get the gook suctioned out.” That’s what I thought. The problem was I used eardrops which melted the wax and let it harden again onto my eardrum and ear canal. The pain of ripping it off was worse than going to the dentist and feeling the drill. Doc had to give up before getting it all out or he would rip it off my eardrum which he informed me would hurt more than what I already experienced. Okay, I’m good. I can hear a little better. Get me outta here.

My bike ride to work was fine. Work was fine—I’m happy as long as I can write during my lunch break and drink coffee—until I experienced the job hazard of working in medical records. I dropped two chart binders on my toes. Wearing comfy thin fabric unfashionable sketchers didn’t help. The more I walked around the building, the more my toes swelled and hurt to touch and bend until I was limping my way home. I could still pedal with my heel, but I needed to walk. We had tickets to a Broadway show the next day. We only do this once a year. I had my ears cleaned so I could hear Hello Dolly, but didn't expect my foot to be the problem. Why now?

Now the guilt. I realize how small my problems are. My sister suffers with chronic back pain, never complains, and I’m whining over a few sausage toes that will heal in less than a week. I should be thankful it’s just “one” of those days and not a month or years. The pain also changed my focus. Before smashing my toes, I was concerned about what to wear to the show. Did I have time to shop for a new outfit and get a haircut? And I really needed new shoes…but all that didn’t matter when I felt pain. My puffy slipper boots felt the best. Style…who cares? I was able to walk ten city blocks and see the show.

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18. God wants us to have joy no matter what kind of day we are having. So let us not be tempted to say “What the?” Every day should be one of those “good” days if we know God loves us and watches over us.