I looked and saw for the first time today a beautiful sunflower in the backyard garden.
There it was, standing tall, cheerful, sunny, unexpected.
I looked and saw for the first time today a beautiful sunflower in the backyard garden.
There it was, standing tall, cheerful, sunny, unexpected.
In my not-so-distant past, four tired children hung on all sides of my overflowing shopping cart as the checkout line inched along.
Recently the sun shone gently on the slopes of the river bank as my four children ran alongside it, shouting and laughing at their stick boats they’d sent downriver.
“Here comes mine!” they shouted excitedly as their sticks bobbed over the ripples in the water.
“Mom, what is my talent?” My son’s eyes were wide, searching, and sincere, accompanying a question that came out of the blue.
He listed his siblings’ talents that included creativity and musical ability, friends’ talents that included a knack for sports.
My five-year-old son is a budding pianist.
Day after day he sits at the piano and plunks away at the keys, often producing beautiful songs from his lessons as well as composing his own.
But sometimes, he doesn’t. Like I said, he’s five.
My five-year-old son is a budding pianist.
Day after day he sits at the piano and plunks away at the keys, often producing beautiful songs from his lessons as well as composing his own.
But sometimes, he doesn’t. Like I said, he’s five.
I’d like to say that every day in our house is peaceful, that no one ever fights, that we ride out problems prayerfully and lovingly.
But it would be a lie.
Yesterday was particularly challenging, with tired children shirking household duties and worn-out parents losing patience. Throughout the rainy day we had to help solve quarrels, enforce obedience, redirect whining. In the face of all our little problems, we got stuck in the muck of anger and impatience.