Happy, happy girl

I post tonight from my couch. I love my couch. It is in my family room, where we spend much time with the girls crawling all over us and acting out all sorts of drama. It is in my home that I love...the first home Michael and I bought together, and it is so US. I just love it. It is pouring down rain outside and cold (for Mississippi, that is). I hate to be wet, and so being inside when it rains makes me so happy. The girls have been passed out in their warm, cozy beds since 7:30. Michael gave them baths, fed them, read stories, said prayers, etc...while I went out to dinner with Norma, with whom I am launching a fabulous new blog about being mothers (more on this later). We went to Norma's house to watch the first inning of the game, then I raced home so Michael could go to the cath. lab and poke around in someone's heart, hopefully to help them. He'll be home soon.

My little corner of the world is so nice this moment. The Cardinals beat the Detroit Tigers in Game 1 of the World Series. A contest we weren't supposed to have any part in. The national press has been brutal about us, and to see the boys compete like they have is so rewarding to fans who have ached and cheered despite the tumultuous season they've had. And I watched the entire game, on my couch, feet up, G&T in hand, computer nearby, girls asleep, Michael soon-to-be-home, happy as I can be. This, for me, rivals falling asleep on the beach in the sun with no kids.

I like my life. Although it is oft-times maddening, constantly challenging, and often anxious, I have much to love about it. I love to feel safe and warm in my home. I love my family, and even more so when they are content and not demanding that I meet a need of theirs imminently. I love my friends, especially when we get to connect over something we are passionate about and support and love each other. I love being a Cardinals fan. I love that, after we won Game 7 of the League Championship Series on Thursday night, my dad called me first thing the next morning to see how to get me to St. Lou for a game. (This time, game 4...I still feel pain in my chest about my tickets for game 5 v. the Sox two years ago.) I love that I have a husband and dear friend who said they'd do whatever they had to do to make it work for me (i.e., take care of the girls) to disappear for two days next week so I could go. I love that I have a job doing something that I love, where I am completely in charge of me, no asking for time off - I say when I work, who I see, and when I need to disappear to go to the World Series.

I love that the little things in life are so delightful to me. I hope they always are. A week or so ago, Lucy was going to Kroger with our friend, John. She stopped him as they were walking in, passing a bush, and Lucy exclaimed, "John, look!" (pointing at a leaf) "It's nature!" I want for the little things in life to always be so delightful to me. Not to define my happiness or contentedness, but for some appreciation of them to resonate deep within me.

Aforementioned friend, John, and I love to talk about heaven together...and how we so often miss opportunities to worship God in the little details of life. If what we see visually is such a small portion of the spectrum of light, imagine what we might see in heaven? If beautiful music and exquisite nature capture our attention here, how much more glorious will those things be in heaven? If deeply meaningful relationships here are so life-giving and needful, how much more alive and well will we be relationally in heaven? I love to ponder these things. And I love to then look at my life here, and worship God in the little details of life that are good...because they all reflect him. Sitting here on my couch tonight, I am so moved to be thankful to God, to worship him. For family and dearly loved friends, for safety and security and warmth, for rain outside and warm inside, for someone to love me and my girls enough to keep them while I run away, for Cardinals baseball and world series tickets and rainy weather outside and all, I am grateful. Not just for what these things are, but because these they are little glimpses into who our father is, and what he has planned for us someday. I can't wait.