One of my first published essays carried the title, “The Virtue of Pain”. I argued (at age 15) that without pain, we could not appreciate joy. The essay appeared in a magazine published by the Christian Board of Publication in St. Louis. Before you admire me too much, let me tell you that my sister Adrienne worked for Christian Board. I might have had an “in”.
This morning, I awakened early to prepare myself for a day of testing. I had to limit my sleep to one-half of normal and forego caffeine. I’ve had breakfast and herbal tea. My bones ache from too little sleep. But moments after waking today, just before I would have complained about my stiff joints and sore muscles, I thought, I felt bad because I had no shoes, until I saw the man who had no feet.
Indeed. I am blessed that I can afford health insurance which will pay for these tests; blessed that I can feel even if what I feel today is pain. So today, I am grateful for my aches, because they tell me that I am alive. And as “me old mither” always said, Where there is life, there is room for improvement.