It's a funny thing.
It grows. It evolves. It changes at the drop of a hat. Sometimes it's purely accurate . Other times it's wildly inaccurate. It evokes emotions-galore. Sometimes it comes from a place of hurt. Sometimes from a place of love. Other times from a place of pride. It's always clouded by our past experiences. And it's usually shadowed by our hopes for the future as well. It can dictate our motives. It can dictate our responses. It can dictate our freedom. It can make us laugh or make us weep. It can make us decide to tear down walls or build them up. It can make us better or make us bitter.
And depending upon my perspective at any given moment, stumbling upon a mess of Annie's like this for the umpteenth time in a single day could make my heart howl or make it sing.
And on this day, it sung...
I read this the other day:
Never count your blessings as burdens.
And that convicted me in the best way possible because I've got four happy, healthy kids that love me ferociously, and have blessed my life in countless ways.
And yes, some of them are turds/teenagers. Some of them are mess-makers. None of them are particularly studious by nature. And yes, we've got our hands full at times with Tourette's and Fructose Malabsorption, drama and angst, forgetfulness and plain ole' I-don't-give-a-sh$#-ness, but all of those things only feel like a burden when my perspective causes me to lose sight of the blessing.
Because by nature, we are single-minded.
We can see what frustrates us or we can see what we are thankful for, but we can't see them both at the same time.
We can focus on what is weighing us down or we can focus on what is holding us up, but we can't focus on them both at the same time.
We can fill our hearts with resentment, or we can fill our hearts with love, but we can't fill them up with both things at the same time.
Just hearing that I should never count my blessings as burdens isn't enough though.
I want to live that out.
I don't want to be a hearer.
I want to be a DOER.
Not just when I'm having a particularly good day. Not just when my kids are on their best behavior. And not just when I'm feeling motivated.
I want to be a doer, even on the crappiest of days.
Because being a doer is what makes the not so 'speshle' days, very, very 'speshle.'