When we aren’t trying to get somewhere else or do something else or be someone else or feel something else We might just pause long enough to realize that where we are and who we are is actually pretty great.
Dear God, Thank you for this day. Thank you for waking me up again. Thank you for giving me strength to make it through, even when I’m tired, sick, and all I want to do is rest. Thank you for helping me to be the most loving mom I can be to my kids, for tending to their needs joyfully, patiently, and with gratitude that I was blessed with children (even when sometimes I wish I weren’t!). Thank you for cleansing my heart of envy when I see husbands taking care of their wives with love in their eyes. Help me to embrace my loneliness, so that if it is your will one day, I might celebrate partnership again.
I really don’t care about the brand of clothes you wear… I want to know what makes your heart ache and which actions you take to honor your own healing. The specific work you do doesn’t interest me as much as the mindset you bring to what you’re doing. Can you work with joy and gratitude? Can you do what needs to be done to show up as the best version of yourself, can you still get up, even if you feel like giving up? I don’t care how much you can bench press— what do you do when life puts the pressure on you? Can you breathe and expand into the challenge, knowing that adversity makes you strong? I want to see your true strength, how you respond to the inevitable challenges that life offers you to wake you up to your ultimate truth: You were born for more, much, much more.
I said a final goodbye to the old house, handed the keys over, and closed that chapter. I drove away feeling free, grateful. Then it was time to teach. My students were open and lovely, willing to slow down, breathe, and try their best. Back home my kids were darling; I’m just amazed at how naturally positive they are; they are focused on the good, they get excited about sweet, simple things. We watched a movie and ate popcorn, then I pumped up the tires of our bikes and we road around the court. Chicken soup for dinner, then homework, then reading together. Ah, it’s the sweet, simple things that make life so blessed, so enjoyable. I vow to be grateful for all of it. This life is a miracle.