Recently I saw a message posted on Facebook that read: "Some people come into your life as Blessings! Others come into your life as Lessons!!!"
Now if this was, say, 20 years ago, I would have agreed with that statement because I was still living very dangerously in victim mode. Instead, my first thought was “But aren’t Lessons really a blessing, too? And doesn’t that make all people who come into your life a blessing on some level?”
First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt considered her husband’s crippling from polio as a blessing in disguise. “He understood human suffering and knew that it could be overcome,” she said. “He also knew that one must have spiritual and physical courage; and, if one had that, there was no situation that could not be met.”
Like many others, I’ve been faced with my own physical challenges, and sometimes it is difficult to see the rainbow through the rain. I’m learning to slow down and re-evaluate, to listen to my body and to appreciate the things I can still physically do, like writing. I’ve also become more empathic and share a deeper alliance with others in pain, something that I sadly lacked in my own upbringing.
I was not raised in a compassionate family.
So if I fell off my bike and skinned my knee, I wasn’t coddled or cooed. No one offered to help me up or say “I’m sorry you hurt yourself.” Instead, I’d get something like “Oh, that didn’t hurt!” or “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.”
And I thought that was how my life would always be. Then I moved away from home and learned to take care of myself, to be dependent upon me. I was the one who would fix things. I was the one who would make me feel better. I was the one who would give me comfort. Yep, little ol’, overly sensitive me.