Here is a post I started on May 2, 2010. It’s about how excited I was to ride my bike last spring after a long and cold Columbus winter. It’s funny that it’s taken me this long to get back to it. Back then I was at the beginning of my month as an intern in the intensive care unit at Riverside Methodist Hospital in Columbus, OH. So much has happened since then. Most of it very involved and very busy. This offers me an unique moment to reflect as I work to finish a post I started 8 months ago.
It’s now cold again, and I find myself in a completely different state. We’re in Morgantown, WV now. I’ve been an ophthalmology resident for roughly 6 months. I’m quite tired due to being on call every third night (on average) and am very grateful to be no longer heading into the forest of my first year of ophthalmology. Now that I’m just beyond the halfway point, I can say that I’m heading out of the forest. That is a comforting thought as the call schedule is the most demanding as a first year.
It’s interesting to look back on our neglected blog and reflect on the chaos that our lives have been in as evidenced by our electronic silence. Most of our energy has been dedicated to adjusting to our new surroundings and new job. Even now as I sit to write some of my musings, I feel like I’m stealing time from a million other things that I’m not doing, but that I should be.
I read something very profound today about time. It was from Elder D. Todd Christofferson’s most recent General Conference address. He was quoting Elder Richard L. Evans:
“Life offers you two precious gifts—one is time, the other freedom of choice, the freedom to buy with your time what you will. You are free to exchange your allotment of time for thrills. You may trade it for base desires. You may invest it in greed…
“Yours is the freedom to choose. But these are no bargains, for in them you find no lasting satisfaction.”
Our little family has grown so much since I began writing this blog post about riding my bike. It is interesting that it took the cold of another winter along with the longing for outdoor activities to compel me to write of the gratitude I felt that day at being able to ride again.
Here is the original beginning of my May 2, 2010 post:
“Well, after a long winter of not being able to ride, the temperature finally warmed up enough here in Columbus for me to head out on a ride. The key here is…”
Yup, that’s as far as I got. Here is the rest of what I may have written back then as best as I can remember.
…that temperature is relative. It was cold today, but it wasn’t snowy any longer. The snow has melted and the bike path was clear. I headed out–excited to finally be able to ride again. Then the rain came. At first I didn’t mind all that much because I was outside, breathing fresh air, and exercising again. Intern year has been hard on me, so having a chance to exercise was heavenly. As I pressed on, I regretted not having any sort of fenders on my bike. Then I regretted not having any sort of eyewear on. As the rain became heavier my tires flipped more and more gritty water in my face and up my back. I could barely see as the corners of my eyes became caked with road grit. I didn’t mind all that much, though because of the gratitude I felt at being able to ride. Heavenly Father is indeed so good to us.
I finished my ride that day. I was soaked and filthy. Jenny took some pictures. Then I took some more in the mirror–determined to document how filthy my face and clothes had become.
As I reflect on how cold, wet, and dirty I was that day, I find it remarkable to note how much the feeling of misery was absent from my experience. I didn’t mind very much all the negatives about that day that could have robbed me of the joy I actually did feel in my experience. The question is, why? Why was it that I didn’t allow murmuring to rob me of the joy of my ride? The answer, of course, is in the gratitude I felt for Heavenly Father’s countless kindnesses that facilitated my ride. Gratitude for the lack of snow overwhelmed the potential frustration due to rain. Gratitude for above-freezing temperatures won out over murmuring about temperatures that were still by many counts, quite chilly. Gratitude for a healthy body that could move and function properly outweighed the frustration of having uncomfortable eyes, limited vision, and a filthy back.
How much more joy might we have in life if we were to live by gratitude and not by murmuring? Why is it that one of the greatest challenges faced by those of us who find ourselves inundated with blessings and opportunities from Heavenly Father is to not “…react with anger when one advantage is lost or with resentment when an added gift is denied.” (President Henry B. Eyring Oct 1989 General Conference address)
And now I come full circle in my musings of this day. These past 6 months have been difficult. I have not remembered to be as grateful as I should have been. As such, much of fatigue and weariness has plagued my soul. I have forfeit a portion of my happiness in forgetting to attend to gratitude in my life. What a blessing then, to be able to repent and choose the path of gratitude–that from this day on, our path here in Morgantown may be brighter.
What a blessing the gospel perspective is in our lives! I’m so grateful to be a member of the only true and living Church on the face of the earth. The blessings and richness of the truths found in the restored gospel of Jesus Christ have given nourishment to my soul particularly when it has been parched by the perilous times of spiritual drought we find ourselves in today. Indeed, we thank Thee, o God for a prophet!
-Tony
(Click on a photo to zoom in and behold the grime in full 10MB detail.)