I've struggled all week with what to write about.  I've started several topics but nothing was coming together, until today when I stood at the sink and loaded my dirty dishes into my newly working dishwasher. 

Our little family has been struggling for the past several years.  We haven't been struggling with anything big and as I've looked around I've always felt blessed.  My marriage is strong.  My kids are healthy.  I have a roof over my head, and a bed to sleep in.  I should be happy right?  Ninety five percent of the time, I'm able to push past the hard things and put on a happy face.  Rarely does this happy exterior not match my interior.  Over the past several months as we've prepared for what should be the easiest portion of our struggle (the part where you can see the light blazing at the end of the tunnel) everything seems to have fallen apart. 

None of the big things have changed.  My marriage is still strong.  The kids are still healthy.  We still have a lovely home and beds to sleep in.  But as the daily little things began to pile up I was having a harder and harder time keeping my positive outlook.  This past Sunday I went to church with the prayer to be able to see all my many blessings.  I knew that they were there.  I was just having a hard time counting them myself.  My prayer was answered in an iron and hair dryer, a visit with great extended family, a borrowed car, and in a change weather.  Finally the sun came out.  Not only was I able to see it from my front window but I could feel it warm my heart too.  As I type this, after weeks of doing dishes by hand, I can hear the swish of my newly repaired dishwasher.  It is music to my ears.  A testament of my loving Heavenly Father who truly wants me to be happy, even if I need a reminder to count my blessings every once in a while.