Sometimes I Need a Reminder...

Last night I had a meltdown because the kids (and the 3 youngsters I was babysitting) were crazy and wouldn't go to bed easily, because I had tax and costuming crises to work out, because we'd gotten four hours of sleep the night before (never a good thing), and because my yahoo page showed me the wrong time for the Academy Awards and I missed the entire first half. (cheesy, I know, and like I even saw any of the movies nominated this year, but I love the Academy awards. Even though I think Hollywood has some serious problems, I still believe in movie magic...) Couldn't even TiVo it - I was so irked. Anyway, Mindy was a total grump and went thrashing around the room like a T-rex on speed. An angry T-rex, with a stubbed toe AND a canker sore. I knew I was letting my worst side have full sway, so once the kids were snoring I betook myself to bed to just rid everyone else of my not-so-ebullient company.

I even woke up slightly grumpy after a good 7 hours' sleep. Obviously, I was needing some humbling. And it came. Mid-morning I got a call that a beautiful teenage boy in our ward, who played a gorgeous violin solo yesterday in Sacrament meeting, was killed in a car accident this morning on his way to school. I'm the compassionate service leader, so the RS president called me soon to get meals and cleaning their way as soon as possible. I am humbled. And heartbroken. And grateful for my family's safetly and comparatively good health for so many years. And so, so repentant.

Sometimes I fail to be sufficently thankful for my many blessings. My kids are smart, healthy, loving (when they're not pounding on each other) and beautiful. My husband is helpful and afffectionate and has a secure job that he loves. Sure, he can be a pill sometimes, but I love him. I have great health and a lovely home. My extended families love us and we love them, even though most of them are all so far away. It's so easy for me to wallow in the whole martyr-I-hate-sweeping-short-order-cook-why-can't-you-sleep-through-the-night-nobody-validates-me mudhole and forget that I am blessed. Blessed blessed blessed. Beyond the measure of normal blessings. I have it so good. Let me not forget it lest I be humbled in a greater way. Which will probably come anyway, sooner or later - that's life. "Comfort Retards Growth," as my old high school teacher George Henry used to say. I hope I pass the test with honor when it comes. And fulfill my duty better now, while I am here.

In the meantime, I am praying for the Walker family. And adoring my own.

“Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be?” -Kahlil Gibran