If you looked around my house, you wouldn’t be impressed. Hand-me-down
furniture. Carpet, that, like my life,
is a bit trampled and worn. Our meals
are far from fancy, the pantry often rivals Old Mother Hubbard. We don’t take nice vacations, don't vacation at all. My children, while amazing in
my eyes, win no prizes for sports or grades.
Personally, I’m no glamour goddess. I’m overweight
and the signs of age are creeping up. The smooth and tight of youth are but a memory.
What a sad life, right?
Actually, I’m ridiculously happy. Oh, I have my moments when worry takes over
and stress balls up inside me. My pillow
is familiar with tears that are shed in the night. But, these things are temporary and the light
of a new morning always brings hope. How
is it that I can be happy in the midst of what the world would view as a bleak existence?
Happy is a choice.
I have a friend who is in constant search of the
next thing, sure that happiness is out there for her to purchase. A better car, a newer home, nicer
clothes. What she has is never
enough. I’ve watched her as she looks
longingly at pictures of her husband when they were young newlyweds. “Wasn’t he gorgeous- back then?”
Gratitude is the key that unlocks the
mysterious door to bliss. Daily, I am thankful for health, both mine and my family’s.
I have a home, humble as it may be. It is ours. (We share it with the
bank, they’re so generous that way.) My
children never go to sleep hungry and they each have a warm bed to snuggle down
into. And, while my body may not be like
I want it, my husband loves me just as I am.
I also have my faith. This brings me unlimited joy
as I pray, read scripture and attend church meetings. I know that I am loved by the Savior and a kind Father in Heaven.
If I can’t find happiness now, it will
always be that butterfly, forever flitting out of reach. I must be still, be grateful, be here.
It is my choice and I choose to be happy.



