Easy come, easy go.

I'm in a sour mood.

Wondering when life will get easy, pleasant, enjoyable, fun. Except I know, for me, that is not how it works.

Wonder if I'm destined to always, always, struggle. Life seems to always kick us when we are down.

Today I'm really tired of trying to look on the bright side, or feel thankful because I'm alive and my kids are too, and everyone is healthy and my husband has a job and none of us were burned in a fire or paralyzed by falling trees.

I KNOW there is nothing to complain about. Really.

Except that joy seems elusive.

Of course there are those brilliant moments that make life so sparkly.

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This is where I got interrupted by something I can't remember now, but was probably really boring, like the dogs barking to be let in, or Malachi saying, "poopy, poopy", or the phone ringing or I had to pee or whatever.

I could go back to where I left off, which is where I was about to give a virtual finger to all the wondrous moments in life and whine again instead about how life is hard and sucks and how I'm mostly bored and uninspired and lazy and tired and feel defeated by where my life has been and where its going.

But while all of that still feels true, what happened between then and now is that I laid down with my child. I saw deep dark eyes looking straight into mine as one son curled up in my arms so close to me I could feel his sweet breath on my face. I felt little arms tighten around my neck and chubby hands patting me softly while I told stories and sang songs in hopes of lulling him to sleep.

I heard him call out, every once in awhile as he likes to do these days, "MOM!". Just checking, I guess, like a microphone check, (one-two, one-two?), testing out his words, seeing how they work and what response they may elicit. "Malachi!" is always my response, and our game continued for a few minutes.

And as he finally drifted to sleep, smiling and content and without a fight, I realized that truly I am the world to this little person. He does not care what my sentiments are about my life. He does not understand that sometimes life is wearing me down. He only knows that I am his mom and he loves me because whatever I am to myself or anyone else, that is enough for him.

Later that day, the baby and I shared a similar moment, looking straight through eyes into hearts, laughing and tickling and sharing life. He too oblivious to whatever havoc life is wreaking upon his mother, and totally entranced, enthralled, smitten.

I felt ashamed as I thought of the unfinished post downstairs, cursor blinking, and wondered how I could have referred to joy as "elusive" and have even dared to turn up my nose at everything I am blessed with.

My children most of all.

The true, pure joy I felt in those moments when we were eye to eye, and nose to nose was nothing short of miraculous. It made every hardship seem worthwhile. Every ounce of pain, endurable. It reminded me that the struggle is insignificant. It made me wonder how I could forget that I am surrounded by love and beauty and all the things I was desiring life to be not that much earlier.

I thought about how when I started this post what I was wanting was an extended period of ease and comfort. Smooth sailing for as far as the eye could see instead of these fleeting little moments that usually precede some giant swell of troubles. Except that today it occurred to me that moments are all we have. Just this one right now. To ignore the joy of this moment in hopes of some un-promised future year of happiness would be a foolish way to live.

I know too now that those rich moments of blessing exist every day for me if I am just willing to put away the tendency I have to murmur and complain, and instead diligently and faithfully search them out.

And then grab on tight and be deeply thankful once they are found.