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.