My thanks to Ashley Haupt for today’s article. I appreciate her insight; I hope this will be an encouragement to all caregivers, whether for wee ones or the elderly.

My toenails depress me.

They aren’t particularly problematic. They’re perfectly functional, average toenails. But you see, I like them to be painted and pretty. Unpainted toenails, or at least MY unpainted toenails, depress me. I’m not one to get regular manicures or pedicures or even to have frequently painted fingernails. In fact, the only pedicure I’ve ever had was before my wedding seven years ago. But I do like to keep my toenails painted so that when I take off my socks and tootle around the house barefoot, they look cute instead of resembling winter mushrooms shocked by a sudden spring.

So why do my toenails depress me? Because I haven’t had time to paint them. No, that’s not entirely true. I haven’t had uninterrupted time to paint them when I felt like it and when they had time to dry. That’s more like it.

I am a stay at home mom with three kids 5, 3, and 1. I am the primary caregiver. Caregivers for the elderly or the young have much in common: constant, time-consuming responsibility that is both physical and emotional, need for respite or shared stress, and lack of time to tend to themselves.

In the grand scheme, painted toenails are a small thing, what we call a “first world problem.” But small things can add up to a broader picture of self neglect which if untended, can lead to depression. The word “depression” means “to lower in worth or value.” On one hand, we know that to serve others above ourselves is the very concept Jesus lived and died by. But on the other hand, when we lower our own worth to the point of becoming depressed, we are increasingly unable to ministry and serve others. We serve best when we have balance, loving ourselves and others, tending to both. Anne Lamott writes, “I get thirsty people glasses of water, even if that thirsty person is just me.”

Painting my toenails, eating a meal while it’s still hot, reading a book just for fun, these are small pleasures that represent pieces of the composite ME. If I deny myself everything I like, I become wasted and thin, weak and withered. I must fill up in Christ, in personal time, in small pleasures received by faith, in order to love others and serve them richly.

If you are a caregiver with primary responsibility, consider scheduling some small pleasures into your week. As you enjoy them, remember to love who you are and fill up on the love of your Creator who loves you, too. You might find yourself more refreshed and ready to serve as a result.

Read more of Ashley’s comments on her blog: 

Hugs,

My Mother My Child will make a thoughtful gift book for all ages. I am grateful for  testimonies from young and older who have been helped and encouraged.