It's been an interesting day. I've had three extremely late nights in a row due to a combination of insomnia and my skin issues, and woke up this morning feeling rather angry at the world and sorry for my tough lot in life. After a morning full of poopy diaper changes, getting three breakfasts, doing last night's dishes, starting a load of laundry, and helping mow and clean up the back yard, I stood at the counter making sandwiches (Two peanut butter and jellies on white bread for the husband, two soynut butter and jellies for the girls, and one soynut on a bagel for the allergy boy) for everyone's lunch. Wallowing in my self-pity, nasty thoughts came to mind of how not one of them would even care that I made three separate lunches for them so they would each like it/be healthy/safe and it was almost positive that they wouldn't realize I still have one to make for myself since I don't even like pb&j (or the allergy friendly variants) and even if I did want one, I'm not sure if I should eat that bread since I still have baby weight to lose.
At that moment, I had a moment of recognition that I was wallowing and I decided to stop. But, my own will was not strong enough at that moment to do it. I said a prayer. It went something like, "Dear Father-in-Heaven, please help me. I don't want to make these sandwiches out of spite or duty. I want to do it out of love. Please help me to do that." And, I forced a smile and kept spreading the jam.
In a few moments, I looked out the window and saw B. playing with her little brother. He was laughing, she was laughing. E. was walking slowly in front of Dad pushing the small handle of the lawnmower while Dad, arms stretched long, walked behind her as they cut the grass. I had a very different kind of moment. It started out peaceful and happy and quickly turned to awe. I thought, "We are a family. We all do things that aren't convenient to help each other out. We do it from duty, from need, from kindness, and above all from love. That is what makes our family work, and why I cycle through the never-ending practical necessities--including making sandwiches. I bowed my head there at the kitchen counter again, this time in gratitude for an answered prayer.
Then, a little bit later, I had to bite the bullet and call the credit card company to take care of some incorrect charges. I thought that I would have no chance of having them removed, though I had done everything as correctly as I could. As I said a prayer for strength and courage to make the call, I remembered that we had paid our tithing on Sunday. I stayed after church and deliberately made the payment, though a big part of me wanted to just take it home and then turn it in next week. However, I decided not to be lazy and did it. Remembering that instance right before my phone call, I felt that I would see the blessings of paying an honest and timely tithe. I made the call and everything was resolved quickly and easily. As I dissolved into tears of gratitude, I knew in my heart that this blessing was a direct result of tithing.
I write this today in hopes that my future self or children will be able to look back on these experiences in a time of need. It was greatly needed by me today and I am so grateful to know I have a Father in Heaven who loves me, who knows my needs, and who answers my most humble prayers.
