Rosy Lorna has chosen to walk rather than crawl most of the time.  She's quite comical about her little steps.  She thinks she's 'something' and expects us to agree.

Dancing.  She's been dancing for months now.  For at least two-three months she'd sand up in the middle of the floor and bee bop without moving a foot.  Put on the themesong to MacGyver and she'll bop all over the spot.  (She dances like papa... doens't move a foot you know).  Both computers have MacGyver on it.  Anytime she looks bored, forlorn, or cranky, one of the kids will start it playing and voila.  Happy Lorna.

I am learning lessons from her that I never took the time to learn from her siblings.  She wasn't in a rush to do it just because she could.  She also delights in her abilities.  She loves that she can walk and she does it.  She enjoys every little step.  She thrives on the attention we lavish upon her and yet doesn't seem to take it for granted. 

How I wish that I was as eager to enjoy what I do, when I do it, and without the encumberances of a lifetime of repetitions that tempt me to be less than grateful.  Yesterday I was working on a new book idea.  The main character has spent a year in prison before being acquitted of the crime.  Once home, she eagerly brings the trash can to the curb.  She finds scrubbing a toilet that has only her germs rewarding.  Washing a floor that has only had her feet on it is so nice compared to the filth she scrubbed while locked away. 

Why do we not try to remember that each day here on earth is a gift, and each day here on earth is one day closer to a life we can't comprehend?  I must daily remind myself of so many things.

"His mercies are new every morning."

"Today is fresh, with no mistakes in it... yet."

"Today is the first day of the rest of my life."

... so many things.  I'm sick.  I feel sick.  I hate coughing, I am so tired of coughing.  BUt you know what?  I am alive.  My children HAVE a mother.  Some don't.  My husband has a wife (even though he might not feel like it right now.)  some men don't.  I have access to health care, good food, and a comfortable bed.  Many would love those things.  I am not likely to die of this cold/cough.  Can the rest of the world be so confident?

Gratitude and Joy.  They go hand in hand don't they?  Appreciate the little things and rejoice in all things.