NaBloPoMo...Again

For reasons that elude even me, I stumbled upon a post from BlogHer about their December theme for NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month, which actually happens EVERY month with a different theme), and decided I would participate for the first time in over a year.  It was the word "Work" that caught my attention.  I'm a stay-at-home Mom, a book blogger, a fledgling writer.  Currently, I'm also dealing with an "invisible illness," and indeed am actually still waiting for a definite diagnosis.  I don't work outside the home; I haven't had an actual paying job in over six years, and couldn't have if I'd wanted to, as I also suffer from PTSD, anxiety, and depression issues.  Sometimes I feel like I'm a weak individual whose defects have left her leading a small life.

But when I think about the fact that over 100 people now follow my blog on some form of social media, leave me comments and interact with me and tell me in many small ways that they connect with what I have to say...

When I remember that I'm the Mommy of a beautiful 3-year-old girl, who loves me with a beautiful, unconditional love, trusts me because she knows she can depend on me, that I wasn't supposed to ever be able to have children, and yet through the prayers of the Blessed Virgin Mother Mary and the grace of Her Son, Jesus Christ, I have my miracle baby, that I competently care for her needs each day...

Photo by Kolossos

When I remember that I currently have several writing projects whirling in my head, and that I do occasionally sit down and capture a chapter here, a chapter there, when the muse will no longer let me hide, that I'm making progress with them, though slow it may be...


When I think of all the hell in my health and my emotional health and the complex life issues that I've endured that got me to this point...

I realize that I do work. That I have worked hard in the past, and have every intention of continuing to work that hard for the foreseeable future, because this is my life, and it does take work, like everyone's life takes work. But I am not weak, because "Christ's strength is made perfect in my weakness," and human beings who are truly defective don't exist.  Every one of us is valuable, of intrinsic human worth, and we have the right to be proud of the work we do.  Living is hard work, and not possible for the faint of heart.  We are all busy working, and we are all pillars of strength, each in our own way.