When Life Trumps 'Living the Dream'

Every once in a while I have a day that goes so well, I hesitate to even mention it to anyone, lest the phenomenon should never again be repeated.  Yesterday was one of those days: a day where my blood sugars actually felt normal. I got to take a shower. I turned every potential curve ball the girls threw at me into something silly or fun. We won smiles...everywhere we went--smiles!!  I'm fairly certain God approached me in the form of a deaf, homeless Croatian man. The girls had the most incredible marathon of playing TOGETHER I've ever seen while I got dinner on the table without interruption.  John and I had a movie 'date night' and stayed up late laughing and talking, not worrying about how soon 6am would come. 

Never mind that we're living in Vienna to boot.

 Days that indisputably great are rare.

I went to sleep last night, still smiling, acutely feeling my blessings.  I don't remember much from my dreams last night, but they were the good stuff--ones that would usually leave me wishing the dream world were reality.  Instead, I woke from those dreams thinking: Real life is totally trumping anything my subconscious can muster up at the moment.

This morning my blessings were so visibly front and center...and that makes a normal day just that much easier to get through.  

Unlike yesterday, this morning was filled with what John has coined the 'badger shakes'; when I'm feeling irritated and unfocused and want to ravenously shove anything containing sugar in my face and alternately just lay on the floor and let the girls eat nothing but cheerios and bananas for the rest of the day.   Instead of giving in to my blood sugar demons, I stopped.  I focused.  I remembered my blessings: that my family is coming in less than two weeks--that there are things I can do here to joyfully prepare for their arrival.  I did some cleaning and reorganization. (as well as anyone easily distracted by shiny objects can) I made sure the things I got done were ones Bailey was happy to help with. (If not just to stick around to offer moral support for)  In between, we read books and slowly got ready to leave the house.  And eventually, I forced myself to go do my grocery run.

Today, it felt like it took Herculean effort.  It was a chore...until we rounded the corner and saw the guy who so often graces the curbside of Wiedener Hauptstrasse, cup on the ground and harmonica in hand.  My blessings slapped me in the face again as I saw him;  I have a home.  We have an income.  I was forcing myself to walk to the grocery store to buy food...for which I have enough money.  I have extra coins in my purse...ones that can't help but find their way into the hands of these down-and-out individuals who dot the sidewalk of our neighborhood.  I am thankful for them--they remind me of what I have and they allow me to realize I have enough to give to others.

I spent maybe more than ten minutes getting my brain and the items on my shopping list to correspond...while trying to keep Bailey from sprinting out the automatic door of our tiny Billa.  I think The Bear had just about had it with me by the time we got home from our shopping trip--she had already shown quite a bit of patience with me after my scatter-brained morning, so we hastily shoved some food in my bag and booked it to the neighborhood playground...where we're slowing familiarizing ourselves with the kids who form 'the usual' gang. Today Bailey entered into a few games of chase and just had a good old time while I got to take a break and focus...for what felt like the 400th time today.

That was my day--all day--it was work, pausing to focus.  To focus on Him--on his grace, on my undisputed blessings pouring out from the Lord, on my responsibility to bless and love others.  After The Bear and I picked up Audrey, we made it through a trip to the commissary (this is one of my personal nine circles of hell) and home...through a babies-needing-their-Mama evening and plenty of interruptions while I tried to get dinner on the table.

Today's events were nothing like my smooth and perfect Thursday.  Making sure everyone was loved and happy took work.  But here, at the end of the day, where the dishes are done and the littles are winding down for the night--it still feels the same: Perfect. Holy. Blessed.  I am thankful for the work--for the struggle to find my focus, for the direct purpose in my actions.  But most importantly, I am thankful for my blessings--the ones that are too many to count.  They are part of the grace that brings me through the day, perfect or not.