I interrupt this broadcast for a present day update

I'm taking a break in my chronological journey to jot a few notes about my present condition. Today has been a struggle. It was a struggle to get up this morning, it was a struggle to get the kids breakfast, it was a struggle to talk on the phone and needless to say there isn't any homeschooling being done in my home today. Again I started feeling sadness, despair, gloom, anxiety and hopelessness. I talked with my mom on the phone and we talked about how far I have recovered from my original sickness. She asked me if the way I was feeling now was how I was before getting pregnant etc. (I've been depressed and angry much of my days with a few joyful ones sprinkled in the midst) I told her yes, this is who I was BEFORE Andrew was born. I was so complacent with myself and my daily misery I didn't expect anything more. Through my post partum depression I have learned how sinful of a person I am. The outer surface was striped clean and the ugly interior was being exposed. And what happens to a sore if it's exposed-it HURTS! So now I'm not ok with just being an irritable, non playful, cold hearted mom. I tend to think I've been going through a spiritual surgery. God entrusted me with these 3 wonderful children and I've taken the task for granted. I am repenting of this sin and am trying to endure the suffering. After talking on the phone with my mom I put my middle child on the computer and my oldest was working on her math (or appearing to do so) and the baby was milling about my feet as I stood in front of our family altar. I looked at the icon of the Theotokos (greek for Mother of God) and I just sighed, I looked up at the icon of Christ and pleaded with my eyes, then I remembered that I have an akathist to St. John of Shanghai. An akathist is a series of prayers of praises and pleadings to a paticular Saint. My priest, Father Seraphim, would pray the akathist over me at church when I was sick. I took out the akathist and while standing in front of St. Johns icon I poured my heart out in prayer. Tears flowed freely from my eyes and Andrew ended up in my arms as I was finishing. He looked at my eyes with a puzzled look on his face. I anointed myself with oil from the vigil lamp from his "tomb" and felt a lifting of the foggy despair. Now I am able to clean outside some, finish the dishes, make lunch without dread and get through the rest of the day with a feeling of grace. As Orthodox we utilize the complete fullness of Christ's church. We call upon Saints, who during their lives dedicated themselves to serving Christ in any capacity. We ask them to pray for us because they are so close to God. We use blessed oils to anoint ourselves and partake of personal blessings from our Priests. When we go to church we are surrounded by smells, sounds, and sights that are dedicated to God. And our homes become, in essence, mini churches. We try to look at this life as a temporary existence till we are called permanently home. With that mindset I have to look at my suffering as another means for salvation. In addition to, "accepting Christ" and attempting (though very poorly) to love our neighbors and do all the other things a "good Christian" does-we are repeatedly asking God to have mercy on us. God in Heaven is so incredibly Holy, how could I possibly assume that I, in my sinful nature, am going straight to Heaven without having to pass "Go" along the way. That would be pretty egotistical of me. And one thing this year has taught me is my ego needs some major deflating. So I get through the moment (or lifetime) of darkness and thank God again for allowing me to endure suffering here on earth. I thank Him that He allowed His Saint to pray for me and lifted my despair through his prayers. I thank God for this temporary moment of grace and mercy and for the ability to get through the rest of the day while murmuring, "Lord have mercy on me-a sinner."