As I started to write this post I set out to use fancy words to whine without sounding whiny. I wanted to pour out my complaints about how deprived I am not being able to eat bread and cheese and coffee and I wanted you to feel bad for me. But, as I usually do, I got distracted; I stumbled across a post from a mama that made me cry, and it made me think. As I read about her heartbreak, her love I traveled a sweet emotional journey through her words. Then, I got back to what I sat down to do, to write this, and I realized how silly and petty my complaints are.
I am blessed! I have been given a beautiful family, a precious son, and an incredible husband; and for whatever time we have together I am grateful. I regularly realize that my own mama is wiser than I previously thought, and one thing she told me years ago was that her children did not belong to her, but to God. God allows us the privilege of caring for little ones, but they are not ours, they are His. Little Dude belongs to God and I am blessed to love him and care for him!
In that light, my complaints fall away. Yes, it is inconvenient and uncomfortable to deal with such a strict diet, and yes, I would still devour a peanut butter sandwich in a moment if it wouldn't threaten to throw the whole thing out the window; but after a little attitude adjustment I understand how light and momentary these troubles really are.
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