Gratitude Can Be Really Hard Sometimes

On this Sunday after St. Valentine's Day with a month to go before Lent, I've had several reminders that I should be grateful.  In reality, I do have much to be grateful for.  I have a loving husband, a car that works, a church family that is kind and supportive in many ways, and today, I could walk.  Not perfectly, not entirely under my own power, but I could walk.

Ever since the flu shot last December, I have had a hard time walking.  I've gotten a little better in the months since, true, but when my fibro pain is bad, the walking thing and weak arms thing gets really bad.

Today, I could walk with my walking stick (that I use instead of a cane since it's a better height for me).  When I helped with the Sunday School class, I was able to stand for a few minutes here and there.  When I couldn't walk easily at all to get to the Communion rail, a lovely member of our church helped me get there and back.  The little Girl Scout who sold me my cookies carried them to my car while I concentrated very hard on putting one foot down, then the other, over and over without falling.

I am grateful I can walk.  My muscles burn now as I rest with my cat, Mr. Floofers, on my legs, holding me down so I can't go anywhere (he is a very needy cat).  I feel like I ran a mile when in all reality, I probably didn't even walk that many steps yet today.  The pain is rather overwhelming.

But at least I can walk.  I am grateful that I can walk.