Self-pity is addicting. It feels good to tell myself I don’t deserve what’s happening to me. It feels good to roll the scenarios of the last week around in my head.

How did I get a diagnosis in one week exactly? I called my endocrinologist, who needed a new referral, my primary care physician doesn’t practice anymore, find a new primary care physician, whoops set 2 appointments with PCP, cancel one appointment, run to a PCP visit that day, wait 24 hours, call endo to see about referral, explain nicely that I’m VERY concerned and need to see the endo, push, push, push, fight, fight, fight…

I did so much work! I am amazing.

Proof of this lies in the fact that the endocrinologist can’t believe I (1) got an appointment with her with two days notice and (2) even noticed my symptoms in the first placed. I am so good.

Well, since I did all that work, poor old diabetic me, I can take a lazy day. No housework for me. I’m spent. I’ve done SO MUCH today. Let me think it over again…

I can get so wrapped up in what happens to me: the sequence of events, the unfairness of it all, or even the unknowns to come.

However, wallowing in my own self-pity gets me nowhere. In fact, it actually takes me backwards.

• Emotionally – I haven’t truly accepted the diagnosis. I’m not fully in denial but definitely not embracing and moving forward.
• Physically – While my body is doing fine, the physical state of my house and home are a wreck. It feels like too much to vacuum, too much to wipe off the mirrors, too much to clean the toilets. I’ve been thinking about my food, insulin, health insurance, glucose test strips running out, comparing health plans during open enrollment, etc. etc. How could I possibly do housework right now???
• Spiritually – A song comes to mind: Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus than to trust and obey. I’m not really trusting Jesus with anything if I’m stuck in my own self-pity. That’s the thing about self-pity. It only focuses on myself, not on God, as my focus should be. I’m not seeing the blessing in the diagnosis. I’m not asking to see the blessing in the diagnosis. I’m not seeing how God can use diabetes to make me more like Him. I’m not seeing how I can be impacting others for Christ. I’m not seeing any of this because I can only see myself. Poor old broken me.

I may stumble sometimes, ok, all the time, but I know Jesus. I know He has more for me. I know He is working in me, and He designed my pancreas to last only 33 years and 3 weeks. I don’t know how He’ll use this for my good and for His glory, but I’m trusting Him to do so.

So I picked up a rag, cleaned the mirrors, and wiped finger prints off the windows/appliances/trash can. You know what? It only took 10 minutes. At the end of the cleaning, I had a boost in my step because I had accomplished something that day! I had 2 items to check off my To Do list!

The boost also allowed me to open my Bible and seek Jesus, not for what he could do in me, but just seek Him. I’m in John 19 now, Jesus’ death on the cross. It’s beyond horrific. The older I get the more I can picture and imagine the beatings, the mocking, the pain, and He did it all in quiet submission to the Father so I could have a relationship with Him. Me, this “broken” (sarcasm font) human, wallowing in self-pity because boo-hoo I have to inject a teeny needle into my body so I can eat and live. There’s nothing like true suffering by someone who actually didn’t deserve it to bring me back to reality.

Jesus is my life. Serving Him with what I have is my desire. He just gave me another tool with which to serve Him, and a whole new circle of people to show Christ’s love. What a blessing!