Last night as rain poured down and the light of day gave way to darkness, I turned on my Ipod in the kitchen while I made dinner. My three year old sat at the kitchen table, diligently coloring in her Strawberry Shortcake coloring book and calling out to me occasionally to admire her work. I made baked potato soup, a family favorite-- something most of them enjoy eating. I mixed up homemade yeast rolls and talked to my two older girls while I worked, explaining about cooking with yeast and hearing their thoughts on cooking and life and school and friends.
The rain beat down steadily outside, but we were warm and dry inside. Music played softly in the background, a soundtrack to our lives. And then this song came on. I stood at the stove, stirring my pot of soup, listening to the words of the song, to Carly singing so beautifully about her children and knowing exactly what inspired those words. I stood there thinking how blessed, how truly blessed, I am. And I knew with certainty and conviction there truly was nowhere else on earth I would rather be at that moment than there, in that kitchen, with these children, stirring soup and feeling really, really happy. A lot of people think that it is in the big stuff of life-- the vacations, the holidays, the monumental moments-- that we find happiness. But the older I get, the more I don't think so. I have found that it is in the simplest of moments that we can find the greatest joys. I don't think I will ever forget that moment-- that feeling-- as long as I live. And yet, it was a moment of nothing special. And everything wonderful.