Count Your Blessings

I guess I'm just on a spiritual rampage when it comes to blogging lately. ;) But today I am thinking about blessings. So many times in life, it is so easy to see what is WRONG with our lives. And it's always brings a nice and refreshing smile to my face and heart to get a little perspective in those situations. So here goes...
I really don't like my car. It's ENTIRELY too small, only has two doors, and is 10 years old this year. I have wanted another for.ever. But it gets my daughter and I where we need to go safely. It takes me to school to get an education and to work to make money. And on top of that, the AC works great (a blessing straight from God in the Texas summer) and the mileage, as well as the mpg it gets is great.
I get chronic headaches every time I get ready to begin a new semester of school. In fact, they don't go away once the semester progresses, and they actually get worse. It is S.T.R.EEEEEEE.SFULL trying to go to school full time (and commute an hour) while being expected to pick up and drop off and take care of a 2 year old every day of the week (and earn the $200/week it takes to pay daycare). Add to that that I have a husband who works nights half the time and isn't usually home before 7 even when he doesn't work nights, and I feel like a single mom half the time. But you know what? I'm not a single mom. And I LOVE getting an edcuation. I love learning about what I want to do with my life. I love working with and teaching children and that's why I keep going back every semester. :)
I hate having a messy house. I am too tired at the end of the day to pick up all of the little toys that litter my floor, not to mention the clothes/blankets/bibs/toothbrushes/books/sippy cups/food and God knows what else my daughter has managed to drag out during the day. But if those things did not clutter the floor that I so long to be sparkly and debri-free, I would not have a vivacious toddler that is blessed with an able body that can pull all of those things out. I would not have a 2 year old who drags out blankets to give to mommy when she is tired or the cats or the baby dolls or who ever else might need them at that time. I would not have a beautiful girl who loves to read and insists on spreading books about all day. If all of those things did not have to be cleaned up, I would not have the active and amazing little girl that I do. And I thank GOD that I am allowed a perfectly healthy and perfectly wonderful angel who finds joy and play in literally everything in life. That's why my floors/house are a mess. Because she has spent the day playing and enjoying so many different things. She has spent the day in her own blissful, 2 year old world. And I would not trade that for all the clean houses on earth.
I also often question why on earth I decided to share a home with my parents after my brother passed away. They drive me crazy. We are polar opposites when it comes to housekeeping. I don't even like to leave my daughter with my mom most of the time. Why, oh why, I wonder, don't we just go and get our own place where we can live our own lives as a family? But then I remember that they save my sanity. Like when Abbie wakes up 3 hours early and completely surprises her exhausted mother. And grandmommy is already up... and entertains Abbie while mommy gets that much needed hour of sleep on the couch. Or when she feeds Abbie a snack so that mommy can fill out some online job applications that seem like they would be PERFECT for her. Or entertains her when mommy has to do all of the many little things that she just cannot do with Abbie on her hip/leg. It's those moments that save my sanity, and I remember why we made this decision to share a home with them at this point in our lives.
I've only got one more, but it's a biggie. I'll let you in on a little pet peeve of mine. Oh, it annoys the bajeezers outta me! Without fail, I remove an empty toilet paper roll from the little holder it sits on about 9 times a week. And most of the time, I replace it with the new roll that has already been pulled out and placed on top of the empty roll or on top of the commode. I have become utterly convinced that my husband does not know how to work the toilet paper holder thingy. I've just accepted it as fact, despite the fact that I want to throw it at his head half the time. But you know, if I didn't have to replace that toilet paper so many times and if I didn't have to roll my eyes about it (and SO many other things) every day of every week, I wouldn't be married to the man of my dreams. I wouldn't have an amazing husband who has more love and thoughtfullness than I could ever dream of having. I wouldn't have a partner who completes me so perfectly because he is everything I am not. I would not have a man who loves my daughter more than anything in the world, and who is the best father she could ever hope for. If I did not have to change those toilet paper rolls, pick up dirty clothes from the floor, haul out his world's largest collection of Dr. Pepper cans that he leaves lying around the house to the recycling all the time, I would not have the most incredible man to spend my life with. I would not have someone to share with, grieve with, and most importantly- laugh and love with.
So that's how I'm counting my blessings today. I know I've rambled again, but hopefully it's been a good ramble. ;)
Melissa

Jesus, Bring The Rain

Tonight I am thinking about the things God puts in our lives. Particularly, the obstacles he puts in front of us. A couple of years ago, I thought I'd seen it all. I thought the worst was behind me. The bad decisions, the horrible people, all the pain I had experienced... I thought it couldn't get any worse and that I had defintely seen more than most in our country. But little did I know that it would only get worse. And that even though I had overcome the obstacles that I knew would take years to forget/forgive, there was an obstacle to come that I would never recover from. And there have been unbelievable blessings in between. BIG blessings. I have an amazing daughter who could not be more perfect and a husband who people tell me religiously to be thankful for. And I am.
I thank God every day for what I have and what my family has. And I never blame him for what we don't have. I don't ask him why he has put people with such awful habits and addictions in my life... people I can never get rid of, nor would I want to. I don't ask him why my brother had to die or why I have been through so much in life. Yes, I think about these things. Obviously, I think about them. I type them out on my blog because I think about them so strongly some days. But simply put, they're not "God" things in the fact that they're in the past. And God doesn't deal so much with the past. He deals with the present and the future in my opinion. And as far as the present and future are concerned, I can only ask that God heal these wounds I have and save these people in my life. I can only ask that he keep my family and I safe and not allow these obstacles that are so intertwined in our lives to bring us down. And he comes through. Every time.
"I can count a million times, people asking me how I can praise you with all that I've gone through. The question just amazes me. Could circumstances possibly change who I forever am in you?"
"So I pray.... Bring me joy, bring me peace, bring the chance to be free. Bring me anything that brings you glory. And I know there'll be days when this life brings me pain. But if that's what it takes to praise you, Jesus bring the rain." Bring The Rain, Mercy Me

Sigh. Tomorrow is going to be a really rough day. It would have been my little brother's 21st birthday. He was 19 when we buried him just over a year ago. It's so hard to imagine that it's been that long since we put him there. I don't even want to think about all the things he could have done in the last 14 months. But I do. And I wonder what he'd want for his birthday. Jeremy and I would probably take him out for dinner and let him drink as much as he wanted. He always hated that everybody was older than he was. I know he didn't like feeling like "the baby". His 21st birthday would have let him feel like a grown up, so to speak. And it sucks that he won't be here to celebrate it. Or any other birthday. Ever.
I try to remind Abbie of her uncle and how much he loved her. But it's so hard. Tonight, she cuddled up next to the pink bear that he bought her the day she was born and smiled. I asked her if she knew where uncle Josh was. It seems so natural to say "do you know where he lives?" But he doesn't live anywhere. He's not alive.
I wish I didn't have to work the next few days. I'm realizing that I really want is a couple of days to just be by myself , to just curl up in a ball for as long as I need to and be alone with my thoughts and my memories. But instead I'll get just half a day tomorrow to get my "gift" ready and go "visit" with him. I like to take him things, even if they are funeral-inspired flowered crosses or sprays of flowers. I like to stand them up to show everybody who sees them that it's my brother's birthday. I so want him to be celebrated. To me, those flowers tell the world how amazing he was. For me, it's a kind of validation. It's like me saying "This was the most wonderful person ever. And I've made sure that every one knows this is the day he was born. And he deserves to be celebrated on his birthday." No, people don't understand all of that from a spray of flowers that they pass by or see from across the cemetary. But at least it makes me feel a little better.
I wonder what a therapist/ counselor would say about my overprotectiveness of the memory of the person who is my little brother. As weird as it is, I touched my brother so much during the days when he laid in his casket before we buried him. I wanted to make sure his hair was the way he wanted and that his pillow was comfortable. But I couldn't stand to touch his hands because they were so cold. And it reminded me that there was no life left in his body. The minute he died, every bit of personality and amazing character that I knew went with him. And I hate that so much. I hate that I can never get that back.
I'm sorry I've rambled and jumped around so much. This blog was for me more than anyone else. But I've got to stop now. I have to crawl out of my hole because if I get much deeper, I won't get out. I only let myself go to this place every couple of months. But when I get here, I fall fast and I have to know when to pick myself up again. So I'm going to take one more deep breath, cry for a few more minutes, and then pick myself back up. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. My next blog will be more upbeat, I promise.