File Under: Impossible to Feel Sorry for Myself

Remember a story about a group of people who had been miraculously saved from forced slavery? They were led to safety and fed for days and weeks and years, and then the people decided that they didn’t like the food they had been given and what they REALLY needed was meat…they NEEDED MEAT, really really A LOT! And then the guy that gave them all of the free bread said:
Now the I will give you meat, and you will eat it. You will not eat it for just one day, or two days, or five, ten or twenty days, but for a whole month—until it comes out of your nostrils and you loathe it.

I often think about that story when I am tempted to complain or feel sorry for myself because I lack something. Today I was given another giant load of used clothing for my sons. It was so much I separated out some items (by some, I mean like 50!) to give to another cause. And as I was sorting them I realized that there is probably no way that my baby can wear all of these 3-6 month items before he gets too big to fit into them. There was just that many. My 2-month-old baby now has 3 bathrobes. If my husband and I were both working full time as teachers in a public school in the USA, making full salary commensurate with our experience and education, our children would not have as many clothes as they have now, with our VERY VERY limited income. And by limited, I mean I talk myself out of “splurging” on a pack of crackers, I beg clothes for myself off of friends who are having yard sales, and (I’m embarrassed to say) I haven’t yet bought the baby wipes and Clorox Clean-Ups that every parent is supposed to donate to their child’s preschool class at the beginning of the school year.
And yet, we are abundantly provided for.

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