All this week when something had the opportunity to go wrong, to mess up, to break down or to hurt, it did. I know I am supposed to be mindful of challenges as they represent opportunities for growth and learning (that is what the wise ones, the sages, tell us). But I must confess that what I felt all week was nothing like gratitude. Allow me to elaborate: my son sustained a serious concussion during a basketball game, the cat, trained to go outside, began peeing in the house, my husband's car broke down and he had to be rescued from the Kroger parking lot, all the smoke alarms in the house went off together at 2 a.m. Husband attempted to fix said alarms, and they went off again at 3 a.m. the next night. The car repair costs were substantial and arrived on the same week that the mortgage was due. It was not a fun week.
Now I recognize that these are manageable, first world problems. I am not dodging drug cartel bullets as I try to walk my child to school or fleeing across a border for my life, carrying everything I love and own on my back. But I was exasperated and a bit bitter, not grateful, this week. However, as I write, I am reminded that during this same week our neighbor offered his extra car once he knew we needed it, my third niece was born and my son's teachers reminded him that their classes were just not the same without him there. He began to heal, not get worse, and we all got some sleep once we shut off the bloody fire alarms.