The gift of a good day
Truth be told every day is a good one. Every day holds something of a treasure. The only question is, will I find it? Sometimes I have to look darn hard to see past the wet boots left out again, the sassy attitude, the scale that lies to me every morning and the spilled honey collecting all-things-fuzzy on the kitchen counter.
But for one of my kids a normal day is somewhere on the spectrum of mildly unpleasant to downright dismal. There are daily tears over spelling or something. Sensitivity is high to….well, everything it can feel like. At least two pencils get broken every day over handwriting. Doors slam and words are spoken that break my heart and make me wonder if really I am up to this task.
Nearly every family has someone in them that requires some extra grace. Really, isn’t it every single one of us some days? When I gingerly coach our other kids on how to respond, I often tell them:
You have two choices to make. You get to react in frustration to something that feels largely unfair. Or you get to learn to love when it’s not easy and that’s called grace.
It’s a tightrope that I walk daily and no doubt I am messing it up. No doubt I’m leaning the wrong way part of the time. But my heart is good. And I have to believe that truly that counts for something.
Learning to love when it’s not easy is a life skill we practice on a daily basis around here. By practice I mean, learning it over and over and over again. We may be really behind on multiplication tables, in fact I’m certain of it. But we are learning love, how to give and receive and grow more when you don’t feel like it. These things might top the times tables when all is said and done. Just maybe.
Given that little history, you can imagine my deep delight when we were gifted with TWO days in a row this week of calm responses, reasonable reactions and pleasant conversations. To put the wonder of that into words is beyond me.
It was a break in the rain for me. And I love rain. Really. It brings the greatest beauty to my life. After a long while though, I just get plain tired of being wet. Instead of the beauty that comes from the perennial downpour of wonderful and crazy-tough stuff life brings, I simply want a day of respite.
Not that I feel entitled to it, I don’t. I just want it. Want might be too mild a term. Desperately need it so I can keep stepping forward every day in this one life that is only mine to live, that might be more like it.
So when the days came, they surprised me and they were sweeter than anything. I have relished every minute. I’ve whispered constant thanks for the gift.
Given just a little bit of reprieve, I’m fairly certain I can weather many more normal-for-me-but-quite-likely-crazy-to-anyone-else days to come…and for that this mama is
yes, thankful, again (you might be tired of hearing it, but that’s okay!).