Believe it or not, I was never one to count my blessings before I met my husband. Most of my young adult life was spent blaming God for what seemed to be the “unfair” treatment I received from high school classmates, boys who never reciprocated my feelings, my parents treating me unjustly, and life’s odds stacking against me. I guess in short, I was like every self-centered young person out to make the world my villain.
Then I met my husband. My husband is one of the most humble men of the world. He is a salt of the earth sort of man. Someone who would rather receive socks and new work shoes for Christmas than the fanciest iPhone or tablet. What amazed me most about him though was his faith. My husband so firmly believed in God and the blessings in his life.
Looking back on my childhood and time in college, I realize just how spoiled I am. I have parents who met my every need and most of my wants within reason. I have an older brother who will buy me expensive work shoes just because he can. I didn’t really have to work in college, I chose to in order to gain independence. I lived rent and food free at my Aunts through college and grad school. I really had it lucky.
Not that my husband lived a hard life, but he had to work his butt off for what he had. He worked to help cover costs from school that financial aid didn’t cover. He worked to purchase his own new car. He completed his degree and interned and found a job. And he searched for a job when he wasn’t satisfied. And through it, he always counted his blessings.
Now I start off with this because it is through my relationship with my husband that I think I have really come to count my own blessings. I have learned to be truly thankful for the family I have that supports me no matter what choices I make. To be proud of the home we have created regardless of how it may compare to other friends or what people think of it. Everything I have, I am proud of and am blessed to have.
But sometimes life is hard. And life has been hard in a lot of ways for us recently. As you know from my last post about searching for strollers, I am pregnant. And while this is a wonderful time in my life, my husband and I have been balancing that with his mother being in and out of the hospital. Ever since November she has been in one week out the next. Most recently she was in for 5 weeks recovering from a heart surgery that implanted a device in her heart to somewhat reverse her heart failure.
This has been a long road for us all.
And I would be lying to the world if I didn’t say it is hard to count my blessings right now. A lot of days I want to sit down and cry. I try and chalk it up to pregnancy hormones, but I am sure a lot of it has to do with stress. Yet, even in these moments of breakdown, I look to my side and see my husband. My husband who has gone almost EVERY DAY to see his mom in the hospital! Driving through LA traffic. Staying late. Taking days off work. And he never complains. He never tells me how hard it is on him. He rarely lets me see the struggle I know it is on him.
How can someone who is shouldering that much burden make it seems like it is just another day? And so I move forward. And I renew my choice today. To count my blessings. Why? Because I can. Because I have legs beneath me to walk. I have air in my lungs to breath. I have another humane life growing inside me. And those are my blessings.
Until Next Time
Pocket Owl Press