Gratitude and pity parties

Yesterday was Mother's Day. It was a beautiful, dreary day where we live, and I awoke to handmade cards and other wonderful gifts from the boys (and man) that I love. It started off good. There wasn't even any discipline involved in the first hour or so of them being awake! So many blessings.

Later in the day, though, I started to go within. Something prompted me to remember a difficult moment in the past, and something else prompted me to feel overwhelmed and a bit forgotten, and then it spiraled from there. A pity party. Call it what it was. And before I knew it I needed to just escape for a breath of fresh air.

So that's what I did. It was nothing brought on by anyone else. I have every reason in the world to feel loved and blessed by my children and my husband. It was just me. (And some hormones, if I'm totally honest). I drove and I sung, and I talked on the phone. First to my grandmother, who was so optimistic and encouraging, even though her circumstances had her in a hospital bed yesterday. She laughed as she told me that one year one of her sons got her a strainer for Mother's Day. And I talked to my mom, who knew immediately that I was a bit down (can't hide anything from her!). She also encouraged with strong words of truth, and prayed over me. Then I perused over some flowers and fruit at the Farmer's Market. Then I went to the grocery store. Alone.

When I finally felt like I could breathe wasn't even after all of that, though. It wasn't even the moment I walked in the door again and their faces lit up as they said, "Mommy!" It was when I realized I needed to count them up. The baby's soft coos as I laid him in bed made me think of it.

I sat, and I picked up a pen and my journal (that has gotten a little too dusty), and I counted them out. Backwards. From the end of the day to the beginning. I counted blessings. Gratitudes. The many gifts seen in that one day. And I wrote. And I wrote. And something lifted. It was like I felt the sun starting to shine through the dreary clouds.

Even though I knew I had a ton to be thankful for, I needed to will myself to take action about it. To look outside of myself. To write them out, one by one. The many grace-gifts He gives. When I looked back over it I realized, even in a little Mother's Day pity party, God cared. He was reaching down, blessing me, gently orchestrating things that would point me to Him. To the truth...that God never forgets His children.

I am blessed. I am thankful. God is grace.