January 28

Today was hard. I slept especially poorly last night, and once I finally managed to shake the restlessness that denied me the ZZZs, I was awakened not once but twice by atypical noises -- car alarms, jackhammers, oh my. When I finally rolled out of bed, I knew I'd have to make a conscious effort to have a good day. And I definitely could've tried harder.

But I did what I could to not let it be a total loss of hours. I snapped this photo of the sky as I headed out with the Little Boys to retrieve Abby from school.

I know: another picture of clouds. Yippee. But seriously, the image does speak to me. It's beautiful. The sky is stunning, and the clouds vibrant and varied. There are the resplendent, eye-catching ones, but there are also finer ones that resemble wispy stretched cotton.

Bear with me because this may be weird, but I think I can categorize the events of my life --and how I cope with them-- into cloud groupings. The big things --like getting married, having all of my babies-- are like the big, bright ones. They're not pictured here because it was a lovely day, but losing Logan is like an imposing storm cloud, black and ominous. Those are the BIG ones -- the things we notice because they're right there, in our faces. And they have a long-lasting impact on our world (and God) views. And --looking at the picture-- they're the ones we're most likely to remember.

But it's important to remember those wispy clouds, too. The ones that are so faint that you have to squint to see them. Why? Because I think they're like the mundane tasks of daily life. There's nothing spectacular about them, but they're still present in the sky and they're still important. And despite the lack of notoriety, they're also beautiful in their own way.

And on days like today, it's important for me to remember --and to remember to value-- those everyday moments that constitute so many of life's more mundane joys and pains.