It was October of 2015 and I found myself near the end of one of my hospital stays. The accident that severed my right hand the previous year had placed me on a path of recovery that would require 20 surgeries and last another four year. But I was not yet aware of all that.

In that moment, I found myself wandering the halls of the med/surg floor, looking for something more entertaining than the four walls of my hospital room that I’d been staring at for the past seven days. For those of you who’ve never experienced an extended hospital stay, just know that it gets really old, really fast!

I wasn’t expecting to find anything interesting as I walked around the nurses station and down the hall, stopping occasionally to stare out the window. But I was desperate for change, desperate enough that I’d started talking to my childhood friend, Angela, on a regular basis. That may not seem like a problem on the surface—until you discover that Angela is a doll!

The walk didn’t last long. I circled the nurses station once, then twice, then headed back toward my room. As I rounded the last corner, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. There was a little room at the end of the hallway that seemed to be calling to me, demanding an exploration.

With as much excitement as a person who’s wearing only a light blue hospital gown and a pair of matching slippers can muster, I began making my way down the hall, wondering what treasures it might hold. As I crossed the threshold—the hidden mysteries of the alcove were revealed—and I realized it was just the sitting area furnished with a few well-worn couches, a vending machine, and a small wall-mounted TV, which looked exactly like the one in my room. The only thing remotely interesting about it were the elevator doors that gleamed on the other side.

For just a minute, I was tempted to climb on the elevator and make my escape from this prison-like building, but considering my current ensemble, I decided it was probably best to simply take a seat and stay a while. At least the walls were adorned with some framed artwork that I could admire.

“HAVE” OR “HAVE NOT”

I settled into an old blue chair situated right next to a large, plate-glass window. The cushions on the chair were scratchy against my skin, but given the options—this sitting room or my hospital bed—it seemed like a great place to rest for a few minutes.

The TV was on, tuned in to a talk show. I had no idea what I was watching, but as I sat there, I became intrigued by the topic of their discussion. The host was explaining the difference between a “have” and a “have not.”

A “have,” he explained, is a person who believes he has enough. It doesn’t really matter how much that person does or does not possess; it’s all about their attitude. A “have” is happy with the life he is living and feels satisfied with the position he is in, emotionally, socially, and financially. He may be working toward improving his circumstances, but it comes from a place of abundance, not a place of lack.

A “have not,” on the other hand, is someone who is always looking for more. Again, the number of possessions or how much they are worth is irrelevant. A “have not” never feels like they have enough. They spend their life seeking more: more money, more possessions, more status, more power. Unfortunately, no matter how much he acquires, he always longs for more. A “have not” rarely acknowledges or appreciates the good things in his life.

After discussing the differences between these two types of people, the host posed the question to the hostess, “Are you a have or a have not?”

YOU GET TO CHOOSE

It’s an interesting thing to consider.

I want to think that today, I’m a “have.”

But back then, that wasn’t the case. In fact, for most of my life, I was a “have not.” I tried not to complain. Instead, when people called me cynical or pointed out my negativity, I’d tell them I was a realist. And maybe that was true. But what I really meant was that I usually honed in on the negative in my circumstances and then tried to make light of it to make myself feel better.

It’s not that I didn’t appreciate the things that I had; it’s just that life didn’t really seem fair.

The truth is, I spent the first 45 years of my life complaining about the difficulties I’d endured, failing to see the amazing gifts that surrounded me. I was constantly asking, “Why me?” In fact, I remember having conversations with other people who were struggling, and when they asked the “why me” question, I’d answer (rather flippantly), “Because you know me.”

That is what I always believed; my life was cursed, and if you got too close, it would probably rub off on you!

In the years since that day in the hospital, I’ve learned some powerful life lessons. And one of the most powerful goes right along with this idea of “haves” and “have nots.”

As humans, we have the power to choose the way we think and feel about our circumstances. We can choose to be miserable. Or we can choose to see life as a gift. I’ve come to believe that this shift in attitude can go a long way toward changing you—without changing anything else at all.

THE TRUE DEFINITION OF A “HAVE”

A few years ago, my sister and her daughter traveled to Africa. They observed the abject poverty in the villages they visited and came back with stories that made my heart hurt.

They saw people who were literally starving to death.

They played with orphaned children whose parents had died of AIDS.

They sat in homes made of straw.

And yet, in every picture they shared with us, the people are smiling.

These people have nothing. And yet, they seem to be happier than those of us who have everything. They are “HAVES” because they live with gratitude and joy, even amidst the challenges they face.

I’d say that’s the true definition of a “have.”

Sitting in the hospital that day, reflecting on what I have, I couldn’t help but realize how fortunate I was. As a matter of fact, I was reminded that being in the hospital was a privilege in and of itself.

I’ll always be grateful for the miracle of modern medicine. I'll always be grateful for the surgeon who worked diligently to save my arm and the hundreds of medical personnel who were there to support me on that journey. And I’ll always be grateful for the shift in attitude that happened as I progressed on that journey of healing.

So, even though an extended hospital stay felt boring in the moment, today, I see it as one more piece of the puzzle, one more step on the path, one more lesson to help me change from a bitter and angry woman to someone filled with purpose and peace! And that’s what I’m continually working toward—an attitude of gratitude that allows me to appreciate all that I have, rather than long for the things that are out of my reach.

I don’t ever want to be a “have not” again.

I want to be known as a “have.”