Life

A Place to be Thankful…

After I tucked my son into bed last night and walked to the kitchen for the 100th time that evening, I felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. I was tired and hadn’t had the best day, but all of the sudden thought to myself, “I love our home”. We have a nice house, it is modest, your traditional starter home, a 3 bed, 2 bath, 2 car garage, right smack dab in the middle of a small subdivision, but it is ours.

17155722_610255719184150_8706869704967620632_nMy son and I have lived in this house since May of 2015 and I still sometimes look at it like its brand new. Any change, any update, a new knickknack or rug can make me ridiculously happy. I recently worked on our spare bedroom and even though I still don’t have a bed for my guest bedroom, I love this room. I leave the door open now, where it used to remain closed. Sometimes I catch myself walking by it, it is a bit silly, this room is still fairly empty but I like to see the space. This house was a dream only 2 years ago. It was a goal I made for myself long before it became a reality and I don’t want to forget that.

We have a tendency, as a society, to always be working toward and focusing on the next “thing”, setting a new goal, moving on to the next chapter. We set goals, we accomplish them, only to set more goals. It’s great to be ambitious but do we ever stop to celebrate reaching our goals? Where are your moments of contentment? How often do you really practice thankfulness? I’d wager most people take a moment or two, but I think so many are stuck in this cycle of more, bigger and better. How exhausting! I would know, I used to be that person. I think I’m finally getting to a place where what I have is enough. Sure, the faucets need updating, I’d like a privacy fence, I’d like a few more pieces of furniture…I have a laundry list of things I’d LIKE to do but I love our home just the way it is.img_1304

I’m not a religious person but I have amazing faith and I’ve fought like hell to hold onto it. While God has made some questionable calls for me, I still look to him when I feel lost, when I feel small. I talk to God all the time, mostly I thank him for this life I’ve been given. I apologize for the “mistakes” I’ve made that day and I reflect on how I want to be better, I ask for strength to get there, I ask for thankfulness. Sometimes he sends me signs that maybe I’m doing an okay job.

I’m not happy, content or thankful all the time. Who is? I struggle daily but I have faith because how could I not? God has equipped me with everything I need to get through this thing called life. My son is 10, we’ve been “on our own”, just the two of us, since he was 3. Not without help, it takes a village, and I’ve got one hell of a tribe.

My family. They’ve helped us move 4 times over the last 7 years. They painted the walls I walk by daily, my Dad replaced every door knob, every lock and told me Lowe’s was just giving them away. (I know that’s not a thing. Thank you, Dad.) My sister gifts me with little reminders to smile, that “my green” is coming and the bears will stop stomping soon (she probably has no idea that I think of her every time I see them). You are “my Spring”. My brother in law who always pretends to not want to help but always shows up. Thank you for being my brother, none of this “in law” business. img_0204-3My nephews, they love coming to Tauntie’s house and that makes me love my home even more, it is a place where they know I will always have fruit rollups and where Lucy the cat lives (she’s a good sport). My Mom, when it clicked for me that this house was the close of a painful chapter and the beginning of a new, hopeful one, she was there. I didn’t make it easy, but with a calmness only a mother can provide, she helped me make this house, a home. She is everywhere. I hear her everyday, even if we don’t speak. I hear you, Mom. My home may only house two people, but my family is always here. Thank you for getting me here, to a place where I am truly thankful. Home.

God doesn’t give me everything I pray for, but he does give me what I need. So, thank you for this life. All of it. Thank you for the incredible privilege of being Jack’s Mom. Thank you for knowing I might need him just as much as he has needed me. For the parts I don’t understand, or like. You’ve left me with what I need, probably more than I deserve. I trust that, even when sometimes my prayer is simply for more strength to trust. Thank you for this life.

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