I live in a house. It’s a beautiful house. It’s a house I could never have dreamed of living in when I was a child.

As a kid, I lived in duplexes and apartments. When Saul and I got married, as soon as we could afford it (okay, maybe a little sooner), I insisted on living in a house. I wanted my own four walls. No footsteps from upstairs or other voices filtering through from someone else’s family.

Saul didn’t understand, but like many times in our marriage, he kindly submitted to my strong will.

So here we are, in this lovely house.

But you know what? Sometimes I don’t see the lovely house the way I used to.

Sometimes I see the tattered floorboards that are all banged up from vacuums and toys and life.

Sometimes I see the air-conditioner that is hanging on by it’s last breathe waiting to be replaced by a newer model.

Sometimes I see bathroom fixtures that looked awesome a few decades ago but now look outdated and neglected.

How many areas in our lives become so ordinary that they stop becoming extraordinary?

That job we so desperately wanted, hoped for, prayed for, now is something to be endured day in and day out.

That husband we used to get all dolled up for now gets us in yoga pants and a pony tail– even on a date night, because we can’t be bothered with a curling iron and lip gloss.

Those kids we held in absolute amazement when the nurse first put them in our arms, now annoy us when they sit on our laps because they’re too squirmy and we’re too hot.

Do you feel it? Are there things in your life that were once extraordinary?

I don’t think they’re gone forever. I think we can reclaim them by looking at our lives through eyes full of excitement and gratitude and leaving off the lens that feels the need to judge and fix and worry.

When I look at my job or my husband or my children, I have a choice. I can allow the negative thoughts to wander in and take up residence in my brain, or I can evict them.

I can give them the boot by replacing them with thoughts of gratitude. I can recreate in my mind the first feelings I ever had about them. And then, when the air-conditioner starts making that funny noise again, I can rejoice that I actually have an air-conditioner… and that everything is fixable.