when it's gone

(not that it was all that difficult, but i'm pretty proud of myself for figuring out how to embed a video. techno nerd i am not.)



i really like this song and video. maybe i feel a connection with them because i know how to do that cup rhythm. (okay, i feel no connection-i just wanted to brag that i can do that cup thing.) the boys really enjoy watching it as well. it is the anthem for all the things that i take for granted until they are gone.

-sunshine. fall sunshine is so melancholy for me because i know it will soon be gone and i know that i have not soaked up enough of it.

-max going to sleep easily. (although even before, "easily" was a relative term.) he figured out how to get out of his crib and the pack 'n' play is no barrier either. but we'll find a new normal eventually. growing pains.

-tim. we, but most especially myself, soooo took our time together for granted. a year ago, i'd get cranky when tim got home at six, knowing that if he hadn't goofed around at work, he could have been home by five. now 7:30 feels like bliss and a day off is like the queen's birthday!

-$$$$$. i really can't complain about money. we have a home. cars. food. money in the bank. and other than our home, no debt. but wow. if i could go back three years and give myself a good throttling, i could have used some attitude adjustment. even then, i knew in the grand scheme of things we were doing well, but on the day to day of life, i whined about things being tight. things are way tighter now with tim's job transition, but things will get better. so instead of whining about our new budget, i've been trying to focus on the freedoms that we have. the freedom from debt that has allowed us to take a much lower paying job with huge potential for growth. a job that my husband really loves instead of one that causes major stress and anxiety. and freedom that, although things are tight, i don't have to drop my boys off at daycare and go to work full time.

-uninterrupted sleep!!! i don't think anybody appreciates this until it's gone. even more than uninterrupted sleep, what i really miss is the ability to sleep in. when we were first married, it was the norm for us to wake up after 11am on the weekends. (well, i would wake up sooner, but go back to sleep several times to try to keep pace with ol timmy boy, a man who's sleeping skillz never cease to amaze me!) we are both night owls, which is not conducive to boys who are wild and ready to go the minute they wake up.

i could go on and on. i have a very ungrateful heart. i hate it sooo much and i hate it when i see it in ben. always wanting more or what others have. i often pray for a grateful heart and God is slowly helping me to change.

many of the things that i am critical or ungrateful or whiney about are things that if i really wanted to, i could change. it's empowering (and humbling) to admit that many of the things that i say "i can't" to are really things that i chose not to do.

it also helps me to think of stages of life as seasons. seasons that will pass. summer really doesn't seem all that long in comparison to a whole year. and although i will be raising children for a good many more years, this very, very intense season of life with small children will soon pass. yes, hopefully God will bless us with more babies, but ben and max won't always be so demanding and will hopefully, eventually, be *gasp* dare i say it* helpful. i look forward to lovingly enslaving my children with yard and house work. and just like i look back and wish i would have enjoyed summer more fully, i'm sure i will look back and miss my babies. (although i try to take pictures and videos of the horrid tantrums so that i won't forget what life was really like instead of just looking at pictures of smiling cherubs.)

when i was a kid, one sunday after lunch my dad read us a story with a poem. it has always stayed with me, but i think of it more often now, with the joy and frustration that fills my days. the poem itself is kind of cheesey in my opinion, but what really stayed with me was the context of the poem. although he didn't write the poem, the guy who shared the poem-the guy the story was about that my dad was reading to us, was a man who had no family, who lived in a home for lepers, and had lost his eyesight and was significantly crippled by leprosy, prayed the poem.

I've never made a fortune
and it's probably too late now.
But I don't worry about that much,
I'm happy anyhow.

And as I go along life's way,
I'm reaping better than I sowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.

I don't have a lot of riches,
and sometimes the going's tough.
But I've got loved ones around me,
and that makes me rich enough.

I thank God for his blessings,
and the mercies He's bestowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'cause my cup has overflowed.

I remember times when things went wrong,
My faith wore somewhat thin.
But all at once the dark clouds broke,
and the sun peeped through again.

So God, help me not to gripe about
the tough rows that I've hoed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.

If God gives me strength and courage,
when the way grows steep and rough.
I'll not ask for other blessings,
I'm already blessed enough.

And may I never be too busy,
to help others bear their loads.
Then I'll keep drinking from my saucer,
'Cause my cup has overflowed.

Like i said, it's not my style of poetry, but if a man who is blind and crippled feels like he is drinking from his saucer, i think i can find a few things to be grateful for too.