Allow me this moment

I had this gratitude blog post all planned out. I will still blog about it. But allow me this moment to cry. My baby has gone to kindergarten, and instead of the feelings of relief and joy and excitement I thought I would feel, I am crying. Sad that my buddy is growing up. Worried about him following school rules. And a little broken-hearted at the way he pushed me away and said, "Just let me walk with my friends."

Today, instead of enjoying the silence at home, I am thinking how grateful I am for half-day kindergarten. I can't wait to pick this guy up in 2 1/2 hours.

gratitude day 25: casey anne

she left for her first day of junior high today, catching a ride with a friend's mom, my heart shredding in that way that mother's hearts do, over and over. i snapped a hurried photo as her friend waited in the car in our driveway.

me: nervous, crying. her: running, excited, hair curled.

i fell in love with her the moment the nurse laid her in my arms in the hospital. she was beautiful, serene, already wise. today she is calm, obedient, responsible, confident, a peace maker. and totally unafraid of the world.

i am afraid enough for both of us. thinking about her starting junior high, i've had this poem running through my head. it seems to fit her so well.

Song for a Young Girl's Puberty Ceremony

I am on my way running,

I am on my way running,

Looking toward me is the edge of the world,

I am trying to reach it,

The edge of the world does not look far away,

To that I am on my way running.

-Anonymous, Translated by Frances Densmore

gratitude day 24: burdens

[brightly colored burdens by brian kershisnik]

so many things on my mind, so hard to find the words. it's been one of those emotional, thinking-deeply kind of weeks for me.

i feel like i've reached the peak of a towering summit this summer after a grueling effort. only, once i sat down to rest i looked around and discovered that the next mountain i am required to scale looks exactly like the one i just climbed.

i am older, wiser, yes. but i have grown weary. and i have these burdens on my back—burdens with labels like “difficult relationship”, “impatient”, “unproductive”, “easily provoked”, “unwilling to forgive”. i feel like i am not up to the tasks at hand.

these burdens! i think. they are too heavy. if i were more patient, more naturally inclined to compassion and kindness then perhaps i could shoulder them. but i cannot. i cannot go on.

and then, up on that summit, i take my burdens off my back for a moment, really look at them. i notice how brightly colored they are, how brightly they shine in the sunlight. how, even though it's a strain, i can pick them up, because i am stronger than i was before. and i realize that i am grateful for that strength because i know i could not have gotten it in any other way. my burdens are brightly colored. they are beautiful.

and now, headed down the summit and onto the next one, i realize my burdens have had wheels all along. wheels with labels like “daily prayer”, “scripture study”, “temple attendance”, and “atonement”. i keep my burdens on the ground now, letting the wheels do their work, rolling down the mountain, gaining speed.

i hope i can pick up enough speed to make it at least halfway up the next peak. i can't wait to see the view from up there.