Why Your Burden is My Blessing

What's your wake-up routine? Are you one of those people who is a night person, always getting to bed late, waking up tired, and has to hurry-skurry around the house in the morning in order to make it to work on time? Do you drink your coffee on the run, or buy it from Starbucks on your commute? Or are you a Benjamin Franklin type, "early to bed and early to rise," with everything carefully set in order for each day?

I guess I'm a little bit of both. I generally take it easy in the morning, allowing my body to wake naturally, and from then on out following a fairly regular pattern. Get up. Breakfast and pills. Bit of computer time. Make my bed. Exercise. Sometimes walk. Shower. Get dressed. Then my day really starts with whatever food prep, research, writing, or activities I have planned for myself.

I think it's a pretty typical routine for a person in my age and stage of life. There's nothing really that stands out about it too much (except maybe the number of pills that I take). This probably comes across as odd to most of you, but, my favorite part of my morning routine is making my bed. (Yeah, I know. Stick with me.) I know a lot of people aren't too keen on making their beds. But to me, it isn't a chore. It's not a burden. It's a symbol. A right that I have earned, in some respects.

Because... I didn't always used to get up in the morning and make my bed. I used to wake up and just lay there for hours, sometimes days, only leaving it when absolutely necessary. That bed and I used to be pretty tight. No more. Sure, I like my lazy morning in bed every once in a while over the weekend as much as the next gal, but I'm thankful now that when the sun comes up and shines through my window, I can get up and wish it a good morning, say "Toodles!" to that bed for a good number of hours, and live a little.

And I suspect I'm not the only one in the world who is thankful to be able to make his or her bed. Think about this man.

After this there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, which is called in Hebrew, Bethesda,having five porches. In these lay a great multitude of sick people, blind, lame, paralyzed, waiting for the moving of the water. For an angel went down at a certain time into the pool and stirred up the water; then whoever stepped in first, after the stirring of the water, was made well of whatever disease he had. Now a certain man was there who had an infirmity thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he already had been in that condition a long time, He said to him, "Do you want to be made well?" The sick man answered Him, "Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; but while I am coming, another steps down before me." Jesus said to him, "Rise, take up your bed and walk." And immediately the man was made well, took up his bed, and walked.

This Hebrew man went for thirty-eight years without making his bed. Thirty-eight years. I can't imagine. He was probably a paralytic, or at least a cripple. Thirty-eight years with no job but being a beggar. Thirty-eight years without a late-night or early morning walk along the shoreline. Thirty-eight years without dancing, leaping, sprinting, or jumping. Thirty-eight years is a long time.

But then, he is healed. He can do things for himself again. He can not only walk, but he can become a participating member of society again. He can take up his bed and carry it, despite not being able to pick himself up and get into a pool just moments before. Don't miss the detail, because it is important. He took up his bed. He walked. It was a miracle, but it involved a very mundane detail to most of us. But to that man, the act of taking up his bed meant everything in the world. It meant that things had changed.

I write this post hoping to inspire some perspective in you, my readers, who are generally quite well. Your burden--the task you have to do, don't want to do, are putting off doing--is my blessing. What you complain about as an insignificant detail of life, I rejoice in as a sign of healing.

Just remember that next time you straighten the sheets and smooth out the comforter. ~Nella Camille