Some very poignant moments have passed today. A phone call from a friend informing me that the mother of my children's' classmates has been unexpectedly killed in a car accident this morning.
I am safe at home.
Last summer Brynley went to girl's camp for the first time. She was brought home early because another girl at camp unexpectedly died from unknown causes while hiking at the camp.
Bryn came home safe to me.
This morning when I woke up, it was the same as most mornings have been this school year. Filled with dread and frustration. Why don't my kids "step up" and get ready for school the way I've taught them? Why are my magnificent plans for teaching our kids to be independent and self sufficient completely thwarted when they actually have to BE independent and self sufficient some mornings before school? Why isn't it fun to be a mom any more? When will I feel I'm doing something I'm actually good at instead of failing over and over as a mother and nurturer (these are the thoughts that stream through my mind most mornings from 6:40-9 a.m., and then again from about 4 p.m. til I fall into bed at night...)
This morning was just like the rest.
But right now, as I am safe in my house, alive and thinking, I realize something valuable. I HAVE TODAY. I'm not done yet. I can try to make the end of this day better than the beginning. Because how can we know which day is our last? Will our time on this earth end unexpectedly? Early? Will it be 'untimely'?
I don't know.
So today I will be grateful that I have been given TODAY. And try to make the best of it, and end it well, for my sake and the sake of my kids.
Maybe if I can string this resolve through the demeaning thoughts of my early mornings those mornings will be a little happier, and little better and a little more meaningful. Maybe there is hope, because of the sad and devastating circumstances that face the families who have lost those they love, for me to become more happy, more fulfilled, more grateful for those difficult demanding mornings. And more eager and happy to face the challenging evenings as well.
For this moment, I'm thankful for the gift of this day.
p.s. As you kneel tonight, would you mention the Burg Family in your prayers? Comfort for the children, peace for their father, solace for grandmothers and grandfathers, perspective and hope and guidance for all of them in the challenging confusing tomorrows they face. Faith in prayer is powerful, please add your faith to mine.
4 comments:
Yesterday my friend told me that a new family is moving into her ward (neighboring ward). A father and four small children...the youngest is 9 months old and their mother died shortly after giving birth. I honestly can't imagine how one moves through something like that, but I do know that the Lord, when we rely on Him, does create beauty from ashes.
I'll keep the Burgs in my prayers. And you, too, sweet friend! You need to be more gentle with yourself! ♥
Katie... thank you for your thoughts. It was your last paragraph, the invitation to join you in prayer for this family that got me the most. How many of us would have thought to ask? It's the little things that make a difference. Thank you for another great example. My heart goes out to the Burgs and they will be in my prayers.
Very touching post. Perspective shifts sure come in unexpected ways. Thank you for sharing that perspective with me today. My number one New Year's goal is to be there with my children more. Really there, not just in their presence.
beautiful post, Katie. We'll pray for the Burgs.
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