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Surrender The Day

Welcome! I'm honored you decided to stop by. Join me as I write my way through the magic and messiness of marriage, motherhood and living out my faith while dealing with chronic illness.

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Here come the boys! Counting my blessings one dirty sock at a time.

Gratitude· Marriage· Motherhood· Raising boys

19 Jul

I’m not quite sure why I am not asleep right now.  God knows I should be (seriously, He does – He told me “Go to bed, Stephanie!”)  And I will – soon. Promise!

Right now I am enjoying a quiet house.  My little boys have spent the week at “Nana and Papa Camp” and will be bursting through my front door in about 12 hours.  All this quiet will be filled with their puppy like enthusiasm.  I can’t wait to give those sweet, often grimy and sweaty, all boy boys big bear hugs and moochas smoochas.  True, I give them about 5 minutes before someone whines, throws a tantrum, or practices selective listening as they come off the high of grandparent heaven.  But, that’s all part of their boyish charm.  Their wild child natures that can be difficult to tame but oh so fun to watch as they explore their world in an effort to become mini-men.

My big boy returns tomorrow as well.  He’s been off doing his provider thang.  And rockin’ it, mind you.  I’m so proud of him.  I am blessed beyond measure to not have to worry about living paycheck to paycheck as so many equally as hardworking Americans must do.  I know he is not where he thought he’d be career wise and his dreams have been molded and changed – often painfully so — into different dreams than he thought.  But he rocks it anyway and throws his whole self into whatever work is placed in front of him.  I am blessed.  So so blessed.

Tonight I am trying to count my blessings.  Grasp onto gratefulness and contentment before dirty shoes track mud through my house, stinky socks get left everywhere, dishes pile up and I am overrun with testosterone laden boys who don’t always make sense to me.  I must practice the art of gratitude. Work it out like a muscle.  My gratitude muscle can be pretty flabby and all girly man like.  I so quickly forget my blessings and grumble and groan.  Harden my heart and get that shrill edge to my voice which communicates the message that my boys are an annoyance rather than a treasure.  Oh how I want them to feel like treasures.  Because they are.  Treasures entrusted to me to love on with all my might.

Lord, please help me see my precious boys and not the messes they make.  Help me see You in each of them.  Thank you for how they mold me a little more each day closer to the person you meant for me to be.  Thank you for entrusting them to me.  I am so flawed.  Make so many mistakes.  Yet, You have blessed me anyway.  You see who we can be, who you designed us to be.  Give me those eyes when I look upon my boys – big and small.  May I count every moment with them a blessing – no matter how messy or chaotic things can get.  Thank you for the holy awesomeness of getting to be a wife and mother of these precious souls.

 

Here are some of my favorite pics from this past year’s blessings…

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  1. Regan says

    July 22, 2013 at 6:40 pm

    Thank you for sharing, Stephanie! I look forward to reading more. I have been exercising my gratitude muscle as well lately, and it definitely takes work but makes a world of difference.

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“Should we feel at times disheartened or discouraged, a simple movement of heart toward God will renew our powers. Whatever He may demand of us, he will give us at the moment the strength and courage that we need.” ~Francois Fenelon

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