Undeserving

I was having a bad day. Week. I was having a bad week. Daniel's just been. . . not himself. He's been cranky and demanding and moody. I haven't had much of a break. I've run the cleaner seven times this week. Not because my floors are dirty, but because Daniel insists that I run the cleaner every so often. He likes mowers, too, but I'm not about to mow the grass several times a day. No Mother's Day Out compounded with terrible weather and a cranky child has made for a rough week.

Today. . . ugh. Today. Up early. Short nap. Lots of whining. Lots of demands. Three dirty diapers during a two-hour playdate. I was frustrated. I was really looking forward to an early bedtime. I was really, really looking forward to making myself dinner, eating it alone, and enjoying the silence. Daniel had different ideas. Daniel wasn't ready for bed. He threw his puppy and his dragon out of the crib and stood crying at the rail. I was half-tempted to let him cry it out but decided that he'd never get to sleep without Oliver, the dragon, and I drug myself down the hall to go calm him down.

I guess he just wanted to be held. As soon as I picked him up, he was fine. I decided to rock him for a bit, just because I felt like he needed it. Little did I know, I was the one who needed it. Here I am - frustrated, tired, ready for some alone time - and I'm rocking my baby. I'm praying for patience. Praying for God to take away my frustrations. Praying for strength and for my own peace. About the time I stopped feeling sorry for myself, Daniel wrapped his hands around my wrist and pressed the palm of my hand against his chest. He squeezed me; hard enough to really hold me but gentle enough to still be sweet. I cried. My heart swelled up to three times its normal size, my eyes stung, my conscience reeled, and I cried. I rested my cheek against his head and tried not to get any tears on him. I stopped asking God for mercy and started thanking him for everything I could name.

I guess in the midst of a rough week, I lost sight of how blessed - truly blessed - I really am. Whatever I did to deserve my station in life, it wasn't enough. I can't recall having ever done anything to deserve such a wonderful, fulfilling existence. Whatever it was, I'm grateful for it. I certainly don't deserve it, but I sure do appreciate it.