I volunteered at my son's school today. One of the little girls in his class was very talkative. I've driven by her house before and they always have a bunch of trucks in the driveway. So, we were talking about how her grandparents, and aunt and uncle live with her.
She said, "We have a lot of people and I am the only kid!" She was super cute.
I said something about her mom and dad, and she said, "Oh my dad doesn't live with us. One day he never called me back, and now he lives somewhere else. But I get to see him every Saturday, and he said he's going to get an apartment so I can live there with him." And she smiled, and playfully kicked her legs.
He never called me back.
Is that how she always tells the story? She is a sweet, bubbly little girl who struggles a little with her math facts but says Math is her favorite subject. Happy-go-lucky. Glass half-full kind of girl...except, her daddy never called her back and left for good.
I get worked up into a frenzy of guilt when I raise my voice at my kids or say something that may send them to Oprah one day...in my mind. I freak myself out over the small stuff when there are kids out there not sweating the really big stuff, the stuff that a little kid shouldn't have to deal with.
I always think, God's blessed me big and I am so prone to screw it up. Actually some days, I wonder if I screw it up on purpose--subliminally, of course. Like, my little self-destructive devil on my shoulder just can't stand having such a great thing going.
It's about time I start taking responsibility for the blessing, and not just expecting to fail. Because, if I could remind myself that my kids have a fighting chance to not have to cope with too much of the big stuff because of ME, then also, because of ME, the small stuff can stop getting in the way too.