10 days of Gratitude- Day Three

Just a few weeks ago, I was separating my cash budget into different envelopes.  Noah saw me, with what probably looked like a small fortune to a child, and asked, "Can I have some?" 

I scoffed.  "No," I said, matter of factly.  I proceeded to explain that this was our money for food and miscellaneous items. 

It annoyed me a little that children can be so oblivious at times, but as I thought back, I remembered that my dad used to have a big wooden bowl, full of change.  Shiny quarters, dull pennies, dimes and other treasures abounded in there. 

I remember asking the same thing.  "Can I have some?" And when my dad laughed and said, "No," feeling a little miffed, because geesh, he had so much and I didn't have any. 

It made me feel especially grateful for my parents.  Oh man, with six kids, they put up with so much!  And man, I gave them a hard time.  I would get so mad when I had to do chores, I would feel so put out if they asked me to help out.  I would clean the kitchen by loading the dishwasher, leaving the pots and pans that were hand- wash only in the sink and on the stove, and of course, I never wiped down the counters. 

And yet, my parents understood that I was a child and I was still learning.  I know they made mistakes in parenting us, but the funny thing is, I don't really remember them.  What I do remember is the feeling of love we ALWAYS had in our home.  That I was loved unconditionally, no matter what choices I made.  That I was valued.  That they liked me for me, not just because I was their daughter.  That my parents loved each other enough to work on their marriage every day, not just until it didn't "work- out" anymore, but for eternity.  That my parents were determined to serve the Lord the rest of their days. 

What stability they gave me!  What a foundation I had!  I am so blessed that I had that kind of environment to grow in my youth.  

It is exactly what I am trying to give my kids now.  But man, it is tough!  I make so many mistakes.  But, I am comforted by the thought that the things I remember most are not the mistakes my parents made, but instead as I grow older, I feel ever more grateful for them as I realize the sacrifices they made for me.  It is my hope that my children will do the same. 

And the truth is?  Right now, they do think Brad and I are practically perfect, and they love on us and hug on us all the time.  They forgive us so readily when we make mistakes.  They adore us, so I need to just savor it, and relish it with all my heart.