When I use the word "lucky," my mom always corrects me. "Blessed," she insists. "You are blessed. It's not a matter of luck. You have been given blessings and you should be grateful for them, not your horoscope or the star you wished on the other night."
It makes sense, and I believe it. But sometimes I still just say lucky. I don't really know why. Maybe it's because I don't see how I could ever be justified in the blessings that I've received.
I guess I must say "lucky" when I don't think I deserve the blessing I've gotten. Kinda like its a freebie that was meant for someone else; someone who doesn't think grumpy thoughts, or growl at her husband when he tells her church is in 10 minutes. I suppose I think to myself, "How could someone like me keep getting blessed? I must just be lucky."
(Mom would be scowling at me right now.)
I received some major blessings this morning in my email. Miracle sized. I don't know why, but someone is sure looking out for me. So tonight I went to the temple. And on my way out, when I saw the lovely sunset, and breathed the pre-fall evening air, I found myself thinking to myself, "Gosh. I'm lucky." And then I thought of how my mom would sigh wondering why her perfect example and patient lessons still haven't penetrated my thick skull. And then I thought about how blessed I am.
Have I mentioned Thursdays are my favorite?
ps- just in case you're wondering, I'm not pregnant... not quite that lucky yet. :)