I must admit that over the course of these past six months I have felt very, very sorry for myself. I haven’t had a steady income; I haven’t felt like I have been able to provide for my family quite in the way that I should. The list goes on quite a way. Instead of being happy and content with what we have and that we are surviving and surviving well, I have found myself getting upset that there isn’t more. Lots of “Why me?, What can I do?, Why can’t anything good happen?, blah, blah, blah, blah…
Yesterday I got a slap in the face. A guy that used to work at one of the places I lived before called me. He had been working for one family for several years as their gardener. Then they moved away, and he stayed with the house. A friend who moved in the place took him on and kept him employed for about a year. Then the friend left, the house was sold, and he no longer had a place to work. Last time we spoke, he had been without work for about 3 or 4 months at that point. Asked me for help, I gave him a little money. Every now and then he calls. “Any work?”. So, he called again last night. Almost begging, pleading for anything. He is still without work, he has a wife and child and has no way to support them.
I guess what I am getting at here is that I am ashamed. I sit here and complain and feel sorry for myself because I am “struggling” when in fact I have no idea what it means to struggle. My family is healthy. We eat all our meals in a day. We have a place to sleep, warm, dry, and secure. We are comfortable and living well.
I have nothing to complain about. It is all about perspective. I am going to try and keep that in focus and not lose it again.