It's been an interesting day for me.
Yikes-o-rama stayed home. The kids were quiet (sometimes). Is that possible? I had moments, of nothing. Stillness. So I prayed. And thought. And felt a few things.
It's all over the place, and I was going to stay quiet about my thoughts, but it's still again - except for the orphans singing Your Never Fully Dressed - and I want to put these thoughts down. For personal reference, I suppose. And because I feel like it.
You can't really go anywhere in the blogosphere lately without reading about Stephanie Nielsen. You can't help but be touched and softened when reading about this woman. There's kind of a Nie Nie movement going on. Out of selfish curiosity, I read her blog today. It's full of gratitude, and joy. Her style is on my hot list. I loved it. She loves her life.
It's interesting what tragedy inspires. I felt soberness and sympathy, and some despair. And I was grateful. I learned today. The Lord's purposes are quiet, and often missed.
My husband used to smile that smile at me when I would go all activist over something I saw on Oprah. Like he's trying to be supportive and loving, but he knows it'll only last until tomorrow's show on Uganda. True. You get caught up in other people's lives, and you're touched and changed by their tragedy, then it goes away and you're back to whining and wishing you could afford the miracle zit cream. I don't watch Oprah anymore.
So I'm writing this down to remember. To stop complaining. To find comfort in the toy hammers pounding my head. To glory in the pudding collage. To praise the laundry. Because little bodies I love wore those clothes. And I can sort.
I need to remember, to thank my Heavenly Father often...for teaching me, through the Nielsen's. And through a R.S. Program. And through a small message from the missionary's after dinner. And through an unordinary stillness. I don't always hear it, or feel it, 'cause I'm wrapped up in me; but today I did.
I'm grateful I can read this tomorrow. When I'm tired, and the quiet is gone. And when I start to forget. Again. That tragedy, if there is such a thing, inspires something lovely.
this picture is from Stephanie's blog.