Unworthy

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There is a part in the Anglican Communion service that says ‘I am not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under Thy table’ and it seems to have taken hold of my life from a young age.
I have never felt worthy of much in my life. I was adopted, so perhaps I felt that I was unworthy even as a baby. I am the second oldest of eight children and so I did quite a few firsts. I was the first to get my driver’s license, the first to buy a car, the first to buy a house, the first to have children, but also the first to be divorced, the first to raise children on my own (actually the only) and the first diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (okay, the only one for this too).
I like to believe that I am a good person, a good Christian even. My family mostly ignores me and I don’t really have friends, so I guess there must be something I’m not doing right.
Most every night (I must admit that sometimes I forget and fall asleep first), I say my prayers and give thanks for all of the blessings in my life and I do have many, I know. I am most thankful for the angels who watch over me and guide my life, my daughters of course, Cavan, who does love me, both of our families, my co-workers and colleagues, my dear friend Viv (who turned 88 this year, God love her!), my house—our home, my cats of course, my car that still runs, being able to be upright (anyone with MS will understand what a blessing that is!) and even my bosses, my salary and the little town of Cobourg where I live.
I have more than most folks and I acknowledge that I am blessed to have all of it! I have been blessed enough be able to put my kids through college, so that they will have no debt when they begin to work.
Despite my disability, I have achieved quite a bit through perseverance and yet I feel unworthy of even the love of my family, which I use to explain their avoiding me. Will it change anything I do? No, because I still believe I am a good person, even if I am unworthy, but it does make me sad.

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