Right Perspective

The time is 12:23 am and I am breathing deeply as this day finally ends. My desire for a week or so has been to finish a blog I'd written called Perspective. This writing time is food for my soul, so I felt happy to spend a few moments to rewrite. In the midst of reshaping a few phrases, I hit an obscure command that should be labeled “black hole” and now, my Perspective is lost.

Perhaps my weighty analogies of “rain-soaked day” and “sunlight filtered through delicate branches” spoke less convincingly of my subject than my computer-illiterate action of cleaning the slate. My own perspective can easily be lost by a difficult morning with my littlest team-members. Day before yesterday, Emmaus, who not long ago told me, “Mommy needs to obey Emmaus!” (isn't his English excellent?) offered me an unopened silver nail polish bottle. I was thrilled that he'd come to me without opening the container first. He was immediately followed by Zion, who also held a nail polish container in his hand, this one, a candy-apple red. The brush, however, hung precariously from his teeth! Only weeks before he had highlighted the tips of Ezra's hair with hot pink! [And no, I have no idea why the toddlers find nail polish everywhere!]

I certainly find ample opportunity to “look at the bright side” when disaster seems to lurk around every giggling corner! Yesterday, at the pediatrician's office, I kept losing a child or two, to the brilliant distracting escapades of the third. I now feel I know the entire reception staff far better than expected. “And how does this copier work?” Zion was certainly wondering. The office goldfish, I am thankful to report, remains alive, though perhaps in a state of shock. Such excursions leave me weary and wondering at my own capabilities. I know that love covers a multitude of my inabilities. So when, in the sweet moment of my question, “Who is beautiful?” they all cry out, “I AM!” I realize we will make it!

And, in the odder moments when I forget the power of my influence, Salome' reminds me. I made a strange comment on some fluffy shoes at the shoe store. I thought they should be “worn by someone drinking a martini!” Salome' didn't miss a beat, she pulled on a pair of teal boots and announced, with an aire of sophistication, “These boots make me feel like I should be drinking hot cocoa!” On another day, her comment was this, “Why are you so beautiful Mommy? It must be because God made you!”

So I leave you with the right perspective tonight. You are beautiful, because God makes only beautiful people! Just ask Salome', resident expert on shoes, people and perspective.