Blessed

My house is quiet now. Both my sweet babes are napping and I am sitting in a beam of sunshine on my bed listening to all the little noises that are heard when tiny feet are still. Do you ever have moments of overwhelming joy? When you see something so beautiful it makes your heart hurt a bit? Or when you stop to think about something that you noticed and suddenly you are overcome by how amazing life is?

I have been having these moments frequently as summer is winding down and autumn is gradually beginning. A cup of tea, a late blooming rose, all the toys scattered across the livingroom, clothes blowing in the wind, raindrops in a puddle, running up a hill, hiking with Russ and Everett and Bea, waking up earlier than my kids, toast with peanut butter, clean sheets and blankets on my bed, making cupcakes with Everett, and playing blocks with Bea. None of these moments are particularly unique. I have done these things again and again, but recently I feel like these humdrum activities are bathed in a golden light.

I am blessed.

And as I write this, I don't mean to brag or whitewash the day-to-day frustrations, because by no means am I a perfect wife, mother, friend, or human. I get angry, I snap and fuss, I pretend like I don't hear the fifth request for the same thing, or that I don't notice my daughter climbing my legs. Sometimes, actually often, my floors are gross, the laundry isn't folded much less put away, there are dirty dishes in the sink, and I may leave the house rather than face any of these domestic disturbances.

Yet in the midst of all these distractions, the sun will come through the window, I will walk through the cool grass, Evie and Bea will tumble together like puppies, Russ will walk through the door, and at the end of the day when I close my eyes, I rest. When I wake up, it is to more. More beauty, more joy, more tears, more love, more hope than I imagined possible.