I wrote earlier how I'm learning to be thankful despite my circumstances. There were definitely years when I felt more naturally inclined to be grateful than this year, but I still have plenty of reasons to offer thanks today. Plenty.
I have a great husband. Trying years are trying on marriages too, but even in the darkest challenges, one thing was certain: whatever we go through, we go through together. He makes me breakfast and coffee every morning, always does the dishes (really ... always), and sweeps the floor and cleans bathrooms. He encourages me to pursue my passion, go out with my friends (sans child) and is perpetually happy. I'm blessed. Very blessed.
I have the Best Baby Ever. Reagan makes me laugh all the time. Whether it's him saying "oh mo" (instead of "oh no") and pretending to be asleep when I catch him standing in his crib, or hiding from me in the same spot every time, and then giving a great big belly laugh when I find him, he is a constant source of joy. He's sensitive, caring, a fantastic eater, obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine, and gives the best hugs and sloppy wet kisses. My wildest dreams never included a child so sweet.
I love my sister. She makes me feel so welcome when we crash her house for the week, a couple times each year. She loves me, she loves my family, and she appropriately spoils my son. When we're together, we can have an entire conversation without saying a word. Sisters are awesome.
I have long-lasting friendships. Twila and I are going strong 30 years since our friendship began. We talk as often as we can, and can pick up where we left off, every time. She loves me, prays for me, encourages me, and understands me. Completely.
My best Saturdays occur when I get to talk to Twila and Holly and Wanita, each from PA, all in the same day. Holly and Wanita have been my friends for over 20 years, and have seen me through some of life's darkest valleys, and still love me. Friends like them are rare and precious gifts.
I could list dozens and dozens of names of friends who have blessed me, and to list some would run the risk of leaving out some. Suffice it to say, my love tank always feels full. Always.
I make a living doing what I love. I get to meet extraordinary people, and do extraordinary things, and earn a paycheck in the process. Not many people get to say they love what they do. But I do. I really, really love it.
I sing with some of the most talented musicians in the world. Truly. The Christ Church Choir and Band is made up of the best of the best. I'm humbled every week that I get to participate with a group of such amazing talent.
I have seen the world. I've visited six different countries, from Central America to Europe to Asia. I've been in over half of the states, including every state on the east coast, Texas, California, Montana. The world is beautiful. I've seen it and it's true.
Life is full of small blessings that could almost go unaware if I didn't take time to stop and notice. Hot coffee, chilly nights, good books, laughter, dessert, cooking shows, fuzzy blankets, music and memories. So many things that people long for are part of my daily existence.
Today, I am thankful.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Thursday, November 7, 2013
I Have Enough
I caught myself in a dangerous web of thinking over the last few weeks.
Our finances took a pretty nice-sized hit this year, and I've watched as our savings account keeps moving in the wrong direction. We had to turn down an offer of a free beachfront Florida condo because we needed to work more than we needed to frolic in the sun. We very rarely eat anywhere but at home. We follow our budget to the penny, and there isn't any room for anything extra right now.
Meanwhile, Facebook is full of friends who bought a new house, went on a great vacation, bought a new car, etc. I spoke to a friend who spent thousands of dollars remodeling her already beautiful home. Other friends are looking at bigger houses, shinier cars, new toys, and on and on.
And it got to me. I admit it. I was sitting on our bed, which is where I work when someone else is watching Reagan. Our bed because our two-bedroom townhome doesn't offer any other place for me to work, except for our bedroom. On the other side of the bed was piles of laundry that needed to be folded and put away. Not the most conducive environment to be productive.
I started thinking about friends who lived in big houses with big yards, friends who were leaving for vacation this week, friends who had what I wanted and were doing what I wanted to do. And thus began Pity Party For One. I was sad. I was a bit miffed. I was, dare I say, even a bit whiny about our current situation.
I can't shoulder all of the blame for my discontentment. We are flooded with reminders that we need to have more, do more, be more. No money for that new car? Finance it. Want to go on a lavish vacation? Put it on a credit card. We live in a society where we are expected to have the best of the best, even if we can't afford it. Debt is accepted as a normal way of life. We can take years to pay off a car, a piece of furniture, an appliance, a cruise -- with a hefty interest rate attached -- because that's a much more palatable solution than waiting for what we can afford.
That's not the way we choose to live, and we're happy with that choice. It's why we live in the two-bedroom townhome, why we have one vehicle between us that is 10 years old, and why we only buy what we can pay cash for.
But just because we choose to live that way doesn't mean I'm always happy about it. And on this particular day, my pitiful attitude was at an all-time high. I wanted this, and that, and a lot of things that weren't within my reach at this moment in time -- things that we thought were within our grasp until the domino effect of events this year.
Sometimes I shake my head in disbelief at myself.
(FreeDigitalPhotos.net)
I of all people should know how ridiculously blessed we are, just by looking at the world around us. When I visited India in 2010, I saw poverty that I never imagined actually existed. People living in the most unimaginable squalor. Generations living under one blue tarp. Parents choosing to feed their children one meager meal, while they went hungry.
I went to Guatemala many years ago, but I still remember visiting a large junkyard, which at that time housed over 500 families. Children, and most likely adults, who never smelled fresh air. Boys and girls who never felt what grass felt like between their toes, or drank a nice glass of cold, fresh, clean water.
According to GlobalIssues.com, approximately half of the world's population live on less than $2.50 a day, with 80% living in less than $10 a day. For those not wanting to do the math, that means that only 20% of the world's population live on more than $310 a month. Imagine trying to feed a family on that.
I can pay for medicine. My son can go to the doctor. He never goes hungry.. I can put a coat on if it's cold out, and get a drink of fresh water from my faucet when I'm thirsty.
I can walk outside and smell the flowers. I can call, e-mail, or text a friend when I want to talk. I can eat fresh fruit and vegetables. I can do so many things that people all over the world would consider an unattainable luxury..
I'm embarrassed that I got sucked into the mindset that advertisers make billions of dollars off of -- believing that what I already have (and can afford) isn't good enough. Shame on me.
I'm grateful. I'm grateful for a loving husband, a beautiful little boy, a house with a low mortgage, a truck that is paid for, and a pantry that is full and overflowing with more food than some people will ever see in their lifetime. I have a comfortable place to sleep, a life filled with laughter, memories that make me smile, and more blessings than I could ever count.
I have enough. More than enough. I'm already rich.
Our finances took a pretty nice-sized hit this year, and I've watched as our savings account keeps moving in the wrong direction. We had to turn down an offer of a free beachfront Florida condo because we needed to work more than we needed to frolic in the sun. We very rarely eat anywhere but at home. We follow our budget to the penny, and there isn't any room for anything extra right now.
Meanwhile, Facebook is full of friends who bought a new house, went on a great vacation, bought a new car, etc. I spoke to a friend who spent thousands of dollars remodeling her already beautiful home. Other friends are looking at bigger houses, shinier cars, new toys, and on and on.
And it got to me. I admit it. I was sitting on our bed, which is where I work when someone else is watching Reagan. Our bed because our two-bedroom townhome doesn't offer any other place for me to work, except for our bedroom. On the other side of the bed was piles of laundry that needed to be folded and put away. Not the most conducive environment to be productive.
I started thinking about friends who lived in big houses with big yards, friends who were leaving for vacation this week, friends who had what I wanted and were doing what I wanted to do. And thus began Pity Party For One. I was sad. I was a bit miffed. I was, dare I say, even a bit whiny about our current situation.
I can't shoulder all of the blame for my discontentment. We are flooded with reminders that we need to have more, do more, be more. No money for that new car? Finance it. Want to go on a lavish vacation? Put it on a credit card. We live in a society where we are expected to have the best of the best, even if we can't afford it. Debt is accepted as a normal way of life. We can take years to pay off a car, a piece of furniture, an appliance, a cruise -- with a hefty interest rate attached -- because that's a much more palatable solution than waiting for what we can afford.
That's not the way we choose to live, and we're happy with that choice. It's why we live in the two-bedroom townhome, why we have one vehicle between us that is 10 years old, and why we only buy what we can pay cash for.
But just because we choose to live that way doesn't mean I'm always happy about it. And on this particular day, my pitiful attitude was at an all-time high. I wanted this, and that, and a lot of things that weren't within my reach at this moment in time -- things that we thought were within our grasp until the domino effect of events this year.
Sometimes I shake my head in disbelief at myself.
I of all people should know how ridiculously blessed we are, just by looking at the world around us. When I visited India in 2010, I saw poverty that I never imagined actually existed. People living in the most unimaginable squalor. Generations living under one blue tarp. Parents choosing to feed their children one meager meal, while they went hungry.
I went to Guatemala many years ago, but I still remember visiting a large junkyard, which at that time housed over 500 families. Children, and most likely adults, who never smelled fresh air. Boys and girls who never felt what grass felt like between their toes, or drank a nice glass of cold, fresh, clean water.
According to GlobalIssues.com, approximately half of the world's population live on less than $2.50 a day, with 80% living in less than $10 a day. For those not wanting to do the math, that means that only 20% of the world's population live on more than $310 a month. Imagine trying to feed a family on that.
I can pay for medicine. My son can go to the doctor. He never goes hungry.. I can put a coat on if it's cold out, and get a drink of fresh water from my faucet when I'm thirsty.
I can walk outside and smell the flowers. I can call, e-mail, or text a friend when I want to talk. I can eat fresh fruit and vegetables. I can do so many things that people all over the world would consider an unattainable luxury..
I'm embarrassed that I got sucked into the mindset that advertisers make billions of dollars off of -- believing that what I already have (and can afford) isn't good enough. Shame on me.
I'm grateful. I'm grateful for a loving husband, a beautiful little boy, a house with a low mortgage, a truck that is paid for, and a pantry that is full and overflowing with more food than some people will ever see in their lifetime. I have a comfortable place to sleep, a life filled with laughter, memories that make me smile, and more blessings than I could ever count.
I have enough. More than enough. I'm already rich.
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