Yesterday, was an amazing day. Rarely does a day that goes by that I don't realize what an incredible gift God is creating in our lives, but some days I feel completely saturated in that blessing. While children, large and small, floated and swam and laughed and talked and had an absolutely fantastic time, my friend Cheri and I drifted and baked and solved the world's problems, and tried to figure out how to love more like Jesus, and discussed what color eggs chickens lay, and laughed about being lucky.
Here's the surface story: I stay home, everyday, all day and raise my amazing children. It's absolutely the most fabulous component of my life. I live in an obscenely large, beautiful house with a magical deck, where I can often be found reclining in a hammock reading my Kindle. We live on a lake, where I can also often be found swimming, floating or day dreaming. I have a ridiculously handsome and fantastic husband, and I'd wager one of the happiest marriages I know. I'm in the best shape of my life. I wake up every morning excited about what the day holds.
Except that all the shiny surface veneer doesn't tell any part of my life story. We spend so much time in our culture looking at what everyone else has, and wishing we could have it too. They must have come by it easily. They must be lucky. Why can't I be lucky too? I won't spend the rest of your time here tooting my own horn, but I will say it took cancer to make an amazing marriage, a catastrophic job loss and bankruptcy to bring us to this house in this town, a year of hard work, pain, early hours, self-denial and training to get into this shape, and a hundred little sacrifices every day to make staying home with my children possible.
We want all the good without any of the work. We want what we see others have because we don't see the sweat and agony that may have gone into the attaining. We want. And we don't even recognize what we already have.
I'm not lucky.
I am blessed. I do not believe for one second that I have earned or deserve this life that I am so blessed to live. God has poured out His love for us in very visible, tangible ways, but if it all disappears tomorrow (and there's a hundred ways that it absolutely could), we will still be incredibly blessed.
Luck is for gamblers. I'm not gambling. I've placed my hope in the One Sure Thing in this entire universe and any sacrifice I have made to do so doesn't even cast a shadow on the sacrifice He made to offer that gift to me. May I never spit in face of His blessing by calling the gifts He's given me not good enough or not recognizing His hand which has offered every single thing I have: my life, my body, food to eat, air to breath, a place to lay my head. Nothing, nothing isn't His to give or withdraw at any time. May I never be lucky.
I came naked from my mother’s womb,
and I will be naked when I leave.
The Lord gave me what I had,
and the Lord has taken it away.
Praise the name of the Lord!