Sweet Joy

Some days I have glimmers of unbelievable joy and peace. Today was one of those days.

I listened to Lulu sing, standing at the microphone in the primary room. She sang “I Am Like a Star Shining Brightly.” She sang clear and loud and I don’t think a choir of angels could have sung it any better to these mommy-ears.

I feel so much joy from parenting (some days). And those glimmers of happiness keep me going when I feel like I’m about to pull my hair out, or frustrated, or PMS-y, or feeling mom-guilt. The glimmers of joy and peace when I sit and read with Lulu, when she puts her forehead to mine and says, “we put our heads together, Mommy” and just looks at me, when she asks to snuggle with me, and one thousand other small simple moments that make my heart burst with love for this little person. I just feel complete.

I feel that completeness other time, too. Like when I leave work some days, after having a particular fulfilling day of helping people continue on their health journeys. Or when I am at church, singing with my roomful of primary children and they are just singing their hearts out, some loud, some on key, some not. Or when Viddy and I have a good conversation, about anything, and we can just sit and enjoy each other’s company and laugh and discuss.

I let that feeling of peace, completeness, joy drive me. I search for it. I follow it. I trust it.

That feeling led me to just pick up and move to different states, twice. It led me to apply to transfer grad schools. It led me to have enough courage to walk into a room and sing and lead a bunch of kids. It led me to be a nurse and then a nurse practitioner. It led me go back to church, week after week after week after week.

For me, that feeling is how I recognize that Heavenly Father is giving me a “thumbs up” a spiritual pat on the back, and sometimes a push to move in a certain direction. And every time I have listened, my life has always taken a positive and meaningful direction.

Tonight, when I put Lulu to bed I asked if she wanted to come and snuggle with me and sing. Usually, I just sing to her while she is in bed. And we sat in the rocking chair and I enveloped her in my arms, she squirmed around, and I pictured all my love and warmth and contentment and joy and feeling of completeness surrounding her, surrounding us.

I know I’m doing a good thing. Just loving her.

One comment to Sweet Joy

  • Amy M  says:

    So beautifully put.

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