I've been going to a new church for the past few weeks. This church is a different denomination from the one I've attended pretty much since birth. (Funny side note: I typed demonation first. Freudian?) Anyway, theologically, it's very similar to what I've grown up with and the differences seem to be mainly in how it's practiced and how the worship service goes.
What I've discovered is that the hardest things to adapt to are the smallest. The use of the word "God" three whole times in The Doxology. Using "sins" instead of "transgressions" in the Lord's Prayer. (And kinda that I only seem to know two songs in the whole hymnal.) It's weird for someone like me who's grown up in the church to suddenly be tripping all over myself when I say the Lord's prayer.
But it's made me realize that in life, it's always the little things. I can't say that Valentine's Day was hard on me. It really wasn't. It was harder last year and this year, I barely noticed that it passed. The kids brought candy home, I got them a Valentine. Brynna made me a card. Whatevs. But Saturday night, at church, I "hosted" the Newlywed Game. A Valentine's tradition of hillarity. I never talked the Ex into playing and reading off those questions and watching one couple (hi Mom) dominate while another brought the funny with sleep deprived bickering, I realized that I'll probably never play the Newlywed Game. Probably. And even though there aren't even prizes, it was a sort of punch to the gut.
On the other hand, this weekend, I stood covered in flour (don't start the mixer too high, Jessi) in my kitchen while the aroma of fresh baked bread spread out through my house and I felt more accomplished than I ever have in any job ever. I made bread. Okay, it was just plain white bread and it was a little dense, but I created bread. From flour, water, yeast, salt and sugar. It was pretty exciting.
I am looking around my office right now and despite the gray walls, there are so many little things that make me happy. An xkcd comic I printed, an origami butterfly and a quilled black cat. My Scarlet O'Hara sign and a vase full of twizlers.
I guess what I'm getting at, in my round about, wandering, rambling sort of way is that life is made up of the little things. The thought of trying to live a happy life or keep a clean house or live in peace is daunting and scary, but it's not about wide, sweeping change. It's not about making everything perfect all at once. It's just about the little things. Piling up all the good little things you can until you can't really see over them.