This was the view out my kitchen window as I made coffee and fed the pets this morning. Isn't the sunrise glorious? These colors lasted less than a minute. Most mornings I look to see if I can catch the sunrise at its colorful best, but I've only stepped out (OK, run out!) to catch it with my camera a few times.
My parents recently celebrated their 53rd wedding anniversary. I've been married 20 years, and the day my husband and I were married, my mother gave me something she had taken the time to embroider just for me. This was especially touching, since she never really enjoyed or did much embroidery otherwise. At the time, though, I found the gift a bit strange, because she had embroidered the beginning of the Serenity Prayer.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
At the time it seemed to me to be a bit negative as a wedding gift, but since then I've come to see what she was trying to tell me. I remembered all this when I wished them a happy anniversary recently. She said she was astounded, herself, when she looks back and realizes it has been over half a century since she married my father. When I asked her how she was able to stay married so long, she said,
"You have to close your eyes to a few things,
forget a few more,
and learn to forgive even more."
She's always been a feisty, strong woman, but she figured out a long time ago that some things are worth fighting for, and some things can be worked out in more quiet ways. A wise woman, my dear mother.
As a final postscript to my last post, I just want to add that I'm not someone who looks at life through rose-colored glasses. Far from it, I'm afraid. But I have learned that the choice to be happy and to forgive ourselves and others comes along every day. It's not something you choose once and forget about it.
It's like the sunrise, every day there's a new opportunity to get it right. Pretty wonderful, isn't it?
