So That's My Problem...

I had one of those mornings that caused me to cry before I had even gotten a mile away from home. I sat in the car with my three crying kids bemoaning how difficult it really is to be a mother. I was on my way to the church to deliver food for a funeral and then was lugging all three kids to a visiting teaching appointment 40 minutes away. I was trying all morning to get the house picked up after Jonathan unloaded the remnants of scout camp, had to throw my skirt in the dryer to get out a few more wrinkles and was loading the boys in the truck. I had managed to get them in the truck but not before their coats were covered in mud from the dirty truck. It snowed on Sunday and we had taken the truck to our stake center 2 hours away for a youth standards night. I ripped my skirt trying to get up into the truck and slashed mud across it. Andrew screamed the entire time and Matthew joined in the crying chorus. I ran back into the house to grab the truck keys and couldn't find them anywhere. I called Jonathan to find he had taken them to work and I think I may have left the other set at the stake center the night before. That is still to be determined as they are still not found. After the fiasco getting them loaded I had to unload them and re-load them into the car. This involved the undoing of three car seats and repositioning. All the mean time the tears continue to flow and the funeral luncheon draws closer. After finally getting on our way I had a mom moment. I swore I was done having children, that I would never take them anywhere again, that I would never visit another sister on my visiting teaching route, but send letters until my kids are out of the house. My own tears continued to flow and as I drove a few thoughts entered my mind...

How fortunate I am to have not just one, or two, but three screaming children. Each one a gift from God... especially since a very dear friend goes into tomorrow for IVF implant in hopes that after 11 year of marriage their family can be just one more....
How fortunate I am to have a car and not just one, but a back up for when Dad takes the keys... especially since the family that I was going to visit and teach doesn't have a car for transportation nor have any hopes of affording one.
How fortunate I am to have a husband that has a job where he can race off in the morning with the truck keys in his pocket... that I am sealed eternally to a good man and am not raising these kids alone, a single mom.
How fortunate I am to be delivering food to a funeral luncheon and scurrying off for a visiting teaching appointment and not having to stay and grieve the loss of my father.
How fortunate I am to have a dress to rip... especially since a recent convert in our ward has decided to serve and mission and was called to Russia owning 1 single black skirt to take with her.
How fortunate I am to have snowfall after snowfall after snowfall to get my truck dirty... especially since I have a friend in Africa trying to get water to villages and tribes that go without.

I realized the most difficult part of my life is that I have more blessings than I have room to receive. I have been given anything a person could ask for in this life and yet it seemed this morning to be a burden. Ingratitude was really my problem this morning. Not kids, not keys, not cars, not mud... but a heart unwilling to receive all that our Father in Heaven has blessed me with. Things really aren't that bad. In fact the windows of heaven have truly been opened and I'm standing under them.