This Christmas did not go as planned.
The previous week I was sick with the stomach bug – it was horrible. Well, as luck would have it, my little roomie D came down with it. We actually think it was another strain from California (proof forthcoming). Then the house fell like dominoes. His father and then mother got it. So Christmas Eve I spent the day cleaning and taking care of little D for a bit while mom and dad could recover. And then around 5 p.m. my body decided it would be a good time to get it AGAIN. Hence it’s not the same strain as I should have had immunity!
So Christmas Eve night and Christmas morning was spent in the toilet. And then Christmas day was spent sleeping and recuperating from the violent night.
I had many thoughts running through my head this week. All of my expectations were thrown out the door this Christmas. No, Christmas would not be a time spent with family and friends. My family is 2,000 miles away, and my friends did not want to be near me (I don’t blame them!). It was spent alone in my room.
It was one of the loneliest nights of my life. I am usually okay with being alone, but it’s really hard when you want to be with people, when the expectation of the holiday is to be with people, and you can’t be. Instead, you’re vomiting into a trash can crying because you really want to be comforted and the only comfort is the five seconds after vomiting until the urge returns once again (TMI?).
I thought how lucky I am to be single and not to have the responsibility of caring for a child or husband when I am sick. I thought how wretched it is to be single because I had to take care of myself.
I then thought of the refugees, the poor, the people who are looked over, abused, and oppressed, and thought I do have comforts – I am seriously blessed. Sure, I am vomiting, but I get to lay in a bed, I have access to clean water and a toilet, and cleaning products, and essential oils, and cozy socks.
I thought of Mary giving birth to Jesus. They had a plan, expectations, that were thrown out the door. They were rejected. Jesus was born amongst filth. Jesus had it perfect before he came into history and this God-man, my Lord, suffered.
I had many thoughts and I am still thinking. I am fighting with entitlement. I am fighting that December didn’t go as planned – my 30th birthday and now Christmas – didn’t go as planned. And it scares me for what this means for 2016 or maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all.