Day 51 ~ Cursed No More

I haven’t written in three days because I somehow came in contact with cooties. I looked this up and my dictionary says cooties is a children’s term for an imaginary germ or repellent quality transmitted by obnoxious or slovenly people. The only problem is, these germs aren’t imaginary. (I’m not sure who the obnoxious or slovenly people are, but I’m sure they’re at fault.) I have a nasty cold and feel ghastly, which of course negatively impacts my whole program.
I can’t do my exercise, because I can’t breathe (through my nose at least). And I get lightheaded standing for too long, so I have a sink full of dishes. My husband is taking care of dinner tonight so I can crash. Bless him, he’s good that way. He and my children are a tremendously positive aspect of my life.

But all this illness doesn’t mean good things aren’t happening. We finished Aurora this weekend, so I have my table back. For us, puzzles are a fantastic family activity because we all enjoy them, and even the seven-year-old got several pieces in.


Aurora .. and my daughter's geometry


What I really wanted to share, though, is a conversation I had over the weekend with my sister. I am the youngest of four girls. My two grandmothers were a nurse (very organized) and a teacher (not so much). I happened to get the not-so-much genes, while my sister got the organized ones. She asked me how my “organizing project” and blog were going, and I told her there was measurable change (although I still see miles to go). Then she said, “You know, you’re breaking a curse.”
She’s (of course) talking about the curse of disorganization that I inherited through my bloodline. Maybe the use of the word curse seems melodramatic, but in the past, it has felt like the appropriate term. There are many times in my life when I have felt helpless and overwhelmed by the sheer volume of stuff that needed changing. I didn’t know how to change it, I didn’t know where to start, and I couldn’t figure out how other people seemed to make it work. But I am breaking the curse, by changing habits and behaviors that I’ve always been predisposed towards, but have seriously fallen into since I was sick.
It’s an act of my will. It’s an act of faith. It’s an act of commitment. I pray for strength, and God gives me that, but it is I who must take the steps. And so I do, one at a time, shaking off the curse and walking toward the blessing.


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