A Year of Habits, no. 33
The house is supposed to be quiet right now. Tomorrow is the first day of school for four of my children. I know they’re tired; if they’d just hold still long enough they’d all fall asleep within two minutes. Instead I hear muffled voices and the padding of feet in the hallway. Funny how you don’t fall asleep when you’re sneaking around. My heart is full but I must be brief. Moms need a good night’s rest before the first day of school too.
I hardly know what to say. There are so many little things about the week. Another soccer tournament, a sweet dance class two of my daughters participated in, an impromptu party for a bunch of teenagers. There was shopping for school supplies {see, I did it}, cleaning, moving some furniture around, work in the storage room. A wedding last night provided an opportunity for service, new friendships, and a brief conversation with a wise old gentleman that brought tears to my eyes. For some reason I saw many people this week who are hurting: some whose pain is so visible and others whose pain lies behind a perfectly normal exterior. I am reminded how life wounds all of us at different times and in different ways, but it is all calculated to stretch us, humble us, help us grow. I’ve been thinking a lot about the miracle of Jesus Christ’s Atonement and the resurrection that will heal and fix so many things. What a marvelous day it will be, and how many of us there are who ache and watch for that day with great longing.
Here I stand on the edge of another school year and I wonder, have I grown at all this year? Am I learning anything? Is there a habit anywhere in my life that is new because I’m trying? I honestly don’t know. I know I’m getting better at taking large groups of children to crowded places without feeling much stress. {Does that count for anything?} I’m getting better at helping my children work. I’m becoming a better finisher. I’m getting better at recognizing what we do and don’t need and making decisions accordingly. I don’t know that the house looks any better. I’m still working at taking better care of my health. But really, here I am near the end of August and I can’t really say that I’ve changed. Not yet. The old me might feel discouraged, but there is a hopeful feeling in my heart that says, “It’s ok. Keep trying. Work at it a while longer and then look back for evidence.” There’s got to be a turning point nearby, a point at which things start to come together and stay that way more consistently. I will find it.
So I’m going to check on the little kiddos upstairs and then I’m going to sleep. Much as I want summer back, great things are ahead for me, for each of my children, for our whole family. We’re still learning. It will be a great year.
Jennifer
