Kiddo has some pretty bad eczema on his skin. My mom and sister are convinced that it is some type of allergic reaction–and they both suffer from the itchy stuff. My sister’s boys, especially, itch so badly that they’ll scratch until they bleed, poor things. Our pediatrician advised us that one way to deal with the eczema is to wait until we “just can’t stand it anymore, and give him a bath.”
I have to say, it’s helped his skin. The horrid rough patches aren’t as bad as have been. But this morning, I got to the “just can’t stand it anymore” point, and gave him a bath.
It’s been a while–almost four weeks. I know that sounds gross, but that’s what our doctor told us to do. I wondered if he’d even remember what a bath was–he was loving them for a while, but I was curious if it would be a new experience all over again. We walked into the bathroom, turned on the heater and the light.
Our shower curtain hangs on those little rings that have the roller-balls on them. It’s a weird sound, to be sure. I reached up to move the shower curtain back, and Kiddo practically jumped out of his skin. I stopped mid pull-back, and held him close. He relaxed, and I started moving the curtain the remainder of the way back.
This time instead of just jerking, startled, he SHRIEKED! It wasn’t a cry–it was a call out! It was the most awful sound to ever hit a mother’s ears. He was so scared. At only not even five months old. I held him so close. The tears were on their way–his lower lip puckered out, corners down-turned.
He was going to be fine, though.
But it reminded me that some children aren’t fine. And once again, as it has so many times in the past week and a half, my heart went out to the orphans in Haiti, and really all over the world, who don’t have someone to hold them when they are scared. I know the Lord has His eye on them, but in my own human insecurities and weaknesses, I’ll admit that that almost doesn’t seem like enough. I KNOW it is enough. I know that those of us who have been born into SO much more than orphaned children in third world countries should consider ourselves IMMENSELY blessed.
And I know, to whom much is given, much is required. I’m not sure what the Lord requires of me–if it’s an open checkbook, or a willingness to go, or something else. But I know, if I follow where He leads us, that it will be an adventure beyond my wildest dreams, and far more blessing than I ever could have been born into.

One of my favorite sayings is, “When the grass is greener, water your yard.”
What that means is, when you’re not happy:

• Count your blessings.
• Quit comparing yourself to others.
• Realize that happiness takes work.
• And it’s a state of mind.
• And a journey, not a destination.
• Don’t live by the seat of your emotions.
• Go help someone who has less than you.
• If, for one second, you think you don’t know anyone with less than you, turn on the news and watch this stuff going on in Haiti.
• Or, read this blog.
• Quit being selfish.
• JOY = Jesus, Others, You.
• And, ironic, think “glass half empty”. If you prepare yourself for the worst possible scenario, you’ll probably never half to deal with it. It really does add perspective.
• Realize that it could all be much, much, much worse.

I’m not sure if that’s a morning pep talk for myself, or frustration at lackadaisical attitudes, or the Haiti stuff making me un-Grinch-ish, or if the Tin Man found a heart.
I’m off to find some coffee.

Tomorrow, I have to read and edit six contracts.
I’m grateful for the opportunities.
Tomorrow, we have to process orders.
I’m grateful for the business.
Tomorrow, food and fresh water are plentiful.
I’m grateful, and remember those who are less fortunate.
There is a lot that I’d rather not deal with, but at the end of the day, there is so much more to be grateful for.