Friday, September 7, 2012

Count Your Many Blessings

What’s that horrid smell? Rolling over I bury my face in my pillow. 

Burning trash at 2:00 a.m.? Seriously; who does that? 

The pink pillow does little to muffle the acrid scent so dejectedly I pull myself out of bed. Choking back a cough, I pull my t-shirt over my nose and push the sliding door shut. Then, heading to the opposite end of the room I crank the windows closed. 

Better go shut the windows in the boys' room as well, I decide, and quickly make my way over. Both of them are fast asleep. Thankfully the disgusting smell hasn’t woken them up. 

Back in bed I close my eyes and try to fall asleep; but I can’t. 

This smell is killing me. 

What to do now? Hmm, maybe if I put some perfume under my nose... The thought barely formulates before I remember where the perfume is. It's in the bathroom. The pitch black bathroom that Mr. Cockroach the 88th has currently taken over. 

What if I turn on the light so he doesn’t run over my bare feet? I wonder. Nope, can’t do that. No city power tonight, and with the recently installed security lighting outside the batteries are almost sure to die before the night is over. If I go in there and turn the light on to search for the perfume, the batteries will simply die that much faster. 

How about some baby lotion? It’s in the kid’s bathroom and the outside security light illuminates it somewhat. No Mr. Cockroach there to trip over either. Liking that idea I stumble out of bed once again. I squirt a dab on my finger and then rub it under my nose. I can still smell the burning trash, but at least the scent is now somewhat masked. 

Back in bed I try to sleep but my mind won’t stop. If we run out of power, and we most certainly will, it means I can’t turn the oven on tomorrow morning. It will be too early for solar to charge the batteries enough to use the oven either and I promised the ladies I would bake for the Bible Study. 


Now what? 

 I could go to the store, but the prepackaged Haitian cookies leave a lot to be desired, and I did say I would make something. 

Hmm, how about no bake cookies? I mentally check off the ingredient list. Oatmeal, peanut butter, white sugar, butter, milk.. Hmm. Milk? I just used the last carton, but I could substitute powdered milk I guess. What about cocoa? I’m pretty sure I don’t have that. Maybe I could use one of my 70% cocoa chocolate bars that was given to me as a gift. If I melt it in a pan, and reduce the amount of butter a little, it might work. Worth a try, I guess. 

 I turn over again. I still can’t sleep. 

The smell is not going away and now with the patio door and windows closed the room temperature is rising. I feel sweat trickle down my back. I’m miserable. 

“Count your blessings,” a still small voice inside me whispers. 

Blessings? But..... 


Okay. I have a bed. A roof over my head. Windows and doors I can close. Two healthy kids. A good man beside me... I may not be able to bake tomorrow, but at least I don’t have to worry about what we’re going to eat. I have a heavenly Father who loves me. Family, friends, and supporters who care about us and pray for us.... 

I pause and look around. 

Nothing outwardly has changed. Our room is still smoky, still oppressively hot, and we’re that much closer to running out of battery power. But inwardly, in my heart, my attitude is different. In light of all His blessings who am I to complain?

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for the perspective Wil. Needed that.