And then I get hit with hormones, and suddenly, everything is a much much bigger deal. Like it was a few months ago or like right now, when I'm almost crushed by a renewed perspective of my reality and gratitude for just how darn good I have it.
- I have a husband who loves and respects me.
- I have a great job, that I enjoy and pays me very well for what I do.
- We have two beautiful, vibrant, healthy little girls. Who love me and Daddy and each other.
- Our girls have never had to go to sleep hungry.
- Our girls have never had to endure or witness violence or rage.
- Our girls are learning both English and Spanish and their letters and numbers.
- Our girls have access to great schools, music, safe places to play and healthy food.
- Our girls have never had to walk across the plains to seek freedom from persecution.
- I have the gospel in my life that comforts me when I worry about if (heaven help me), I should lose one of my babies.
My heart aches for the mothers and fathers who have had to comfort their children in war torn countries, where crimes are not punished or are enacted against you by your government.
No, our nation and our world is not perfect. Nor will it ever be under the direction of mortal hands. But for today. I myself am going to thank my father in heaven for piles of laundry. And toothy smiles. And kisses and slobber. And enjoy every bit of the misery and joy that is given to me. Because I realized a couple years ago - wishing to be past the pain won't make it go faster. And wishing your life away is pretty ungreatful when you have it as good as I do.