I'm actually pretty proficient on the home front. But tonight, I'm really tired. Work has been stressful and there are some personal things bothering me as well. Life's just been crazy lately and all of this has combined to lower my resilience.
Consequently, I was about ready not to cry, but to yell and holler over spilt milk (seriously, like half a gallon) all over the kitchen. I was also not thrilled with the spray paint on the front porch, or the seven-year-old's imitation of a nuclear reactor going into melt-down.
"Dad, it's not my fault. It's for my French project..."
"Dad, I'll wash it off...." (Guess what's still there)
I took a deep breath and went to check my email to get away for a minute.
I had an email waiting. A co-worker had emailed to thank everyone for the support they had shown during the past few months. You see, her husband died two weeks ago after a battle with cancer. That came after convalescing from a stroke, which came after another battle with cancer.
This woman has been an absolute rock. I hope someday I can tell her about eternal families. In the meantime, she is alone. They were never able to have children, so no one is spilling milk at her house. No one is throwing atomic fits and no one is getting spray paint on her front porch.
This email was a major chiropractic snap to the vertebrae of my attitude. Things seem a lot clearer now.
Thank you, dear Heavenly Father, for my messy, demanding, grumpy children.
Thank you for a job that makes me tired.
Thank you for my wife who is gone to the temple.
Thank you that we have milk to spill.
Thank you for a front porch attached to a warm, dry house.
I'm sorry I got frazzled and lost sight of things there. I'll work on that.
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Braden Bell's first book, The Road Show was released the first week of June. He blogs at bradenbell.com
