Late last night, we sat on the couch. His head flopped straight back against the cushions, exhausted from work and a long evening of studying at the library. I was trying to finish 100 pages in a novel. I can't really complain because, goodness, how lucky am I that my homework is to read a novel? Nonetheless, I was overwhelmed, tired, trying to recover from a headache that knocked me around earlier.

We kind of complained for a bit-- discouraged, confused, burdened, stacked-up with complaints and gripes that were nothing and everything at the same time.

And then we remembered, or rather, he remembered and reminded me.  

Look how wonderful our life is. Look at this home that we share and the food that we ate this weekend. Look at the letter we got in the mail that lightened our financial load-- thank goodness. Look at us. We have jobs. You get to go to school and read novels. We don't have overwhelming debt-- yet. Look at our kitchen; we have a dishwasher. Look at our bedroom with its white quilt that you love and the basil plant in the window. Look at the pear tree, the apple tree, the cherry tree. And hey, look at me! You love me! And I love you too.

I'm grateful.