This weekend my family and I had several house chores we needed to get done that included heat, grass, and tedious sewing, none of which I particularly love. I was annoyed and somewhat dreading it, but pumped myself up for the necessary grind. At first I was enduring each step: figuring out a strategy, learning some new processes, mediating between arguing siblings. I was ready to push us just to make it through the day and get it over with.
But as I took a breath and settled into a reasonable pace for five unique humans trying to work together, some things dawned on me... We live in a beautiful place I was completely looking past. I hardly ever get to spend time with all three of my kids accomplishing something together; this was a fleeting opportunity. Sewing is peaceful and calming. God gave us our daily bread.
When we were done I actually felt happy, rather than relieved. Happy that we could be together. Happy that our bodies work well. Happy that we crossed some tasks off our list. Happy with myself for learning some new things.
Gratitude and slowing down a bit made all the difference. It turned what could have been a completely forgettable weekend into a gentle joy. Maybe setting a reasonable pace is exactly what I need to love my life.
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