16 hours ago
Monday, December 14, 2009
Last night, after Isaac had been the Birthday King all day,
and a bit of a tyrant,
and my camera died again,
and Paul's missionary stuff was scattered all over the living room,
and Isaac's Lego Chariot kept falling apart every time he picked it up,
and he cried about it four times in fifteen minutes,
and Wade dropped his rocket cup on his toe and nearly died,
and it seemed like everyone was yelling at me,
we managed to gather for a few minutes for (what we wish was regular but sort of isn't) scripture time.
We read for a while about murmuring and complaining and not being grateful, and how someone can be totally and amazingly blessed and somehow not recognize the blessings they have received. And with my sweet husband and my four healthy children, in our messy but warm home, snuggled together reading the scriptures, I got a lump in my throat. Because I DO THAT. I am often ungrateful and selfish. And I murmur.
And I shouldn't.
I am a lucky girl and I know it. Yeah, life is busy and I get stressed. But that's no reason to threaten to smash the birthday Legos with a hammer if you don't stop crying, or to stomp out of the room and slam the door when you won't let me look at your pinched toe. Or throw the phone on the floor when you're late coming home.
Perhaps a little more sleep? Perhaps a bit o'exercise? Perhaps my heart is two sizes to small.
How do my children know that I love them? That I adore them? That I would do anything for them, and I wouldn't really smash the Legos? How does my husband know that I appreciate him and that he is the love of my life? How does Paul know that I am so proud of him and that I will miss him so bad that it hurts already? How do they know that they are the greatest blessings and joy of my life?
My heart brimmed over a little bit last night. And I prayed for help to change.