I'll keep mine thanks

There is a cure for all that ails you. It is simply to look around. As I do so, I'm reminded of a book I loved as a child. The title-- "Could be Worse." In the story, the grandfather is telling stories to his grandson, and at the end of each extraordinary tale he used the phrase, "could be worse."  And really, it could always be worse.

Last Sunday I peeked into nursery during snack time. Ava sat at the end of the table with her rice cake while all of the other children were eating Cheez- its. I watched warily, always afraid one of the children will hand her a cracker, or rub their hands on her face. Then I lamented the fact that I even had to worry about it, and that she had to be singled out as the different one.

This morning, I was given the opportunity to sit on the other side of the fence. Ava and I went to Atlanta for a visit to the Geneticist for a repeat metabolic panel to determine if her levels had come back into the normal range. Ava was sitting playing with toys when two ladies walked in with a little girl who appeared to be about 2-3 years old. They sat down for a moment and then brought the little girl over by where Ava was playing. She was unable to stand, or sit, or do generally anything that was so effortless for Ava. Then it struck me, and I said a prayer of gratitude. "Thank you Lord for my trials, for you have asked much less of me than you have of this woman."

Shortly after, the nurse came out and called Ava's name. Blood was drawn and 5 minutes later we were headed out the door with a quick glance back at the scene in the waiting room-- and I prayed again.

So next time you're feeling like you've been dealt an unfair hand take a hard look around at someone' else's trials. I'm sure you'll feel the same way I did. "I'll keep mine thanks."