I wish...

As a child, my wishes ranged from the ridiculous to the sublime.  I wished I had gotten the Chatty Cathy with the blue dress for Christmas instead of the one I got with the red dress.  I wished I fit in better at school instead of being quite so free-spirited.  (I mean, what other sixth grader brought knitting to do at recess?)   

 In junior high, I wished my new loafers were prettier.  I wished I had more control over my sweet tooth, especially with a penny candy store right across the street from the junior high school.  (Maybe it was an occupational hazard that came with the name Candy.)  I wished my best friend lived closer to me.

In high school I wished I could solve the world’s problems or at least those of my friends as I usually choose to befriend those on the fringes rather than the “in” crowd.  I wished that popular girl sitting kitty-corner from me in Creative Writing class didn’t sneer at me quite so openly.  I wished my Spanish teachers were better at teaching Spanish.

As a wife and mother of four, I wished I could be a better housekeeper like “S”, that I could decorate my home as effortlessly as “B”, that I could be as organized as “M”.  I wished I could be as charming as “R”, have the joyful abandon of “N”, play the piano like “J”, sing like “M” and be as adaptable as “L”.

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

If turnips were watches, I'd wear one by my side.

If "if's" and "and's" were pots and pans,

There'd be no work for tinkers' hands.

Thankfully, the Lord has been teaching me more and more about who He is and who He has made me to be.  Contentment with who I am--and my less than “perfectness”—is still a work in process.  I still catch myself wishing for things from the ridiculous to the sublime.

And I wish I hadn’t forgotten to put away the ham and bean soup last night.  Some of the best bean soup Barry has ever made had to be consigned to the compost pile.