A mother’s hopes for her children are never far from her.
I’ve been thinking much these last couple of weeks, as the sky seems to be doing a bit of falling. I think of how higher gas and grocery prices will affect my family, of course, but I think of other things, too. I look at the failure we’re seeing, on such a grand scale, and it reminds me of something much deeper. Cheaper groceries aren’t the only thing I’m wishing for, where my kids are concerned:
I hope they learn that greed is not, in fact, good. That it messes with the heads of big-time CEOs all the way down to first-time homeowners, and it clouds judgment, often spectacularly so.
I hope that they pay attention in math class and learn that, whether you’re a government or a regular Joe, if you spend more than you make, it never ends well.
I hope they learn that a happy family is a million times more precious than a big house.
I hope they learn that when times are good, your circumstances don’t have to enslave you or define you. And that when times are bad, your circumstances don’t have to enslave you or define you.
I hope they learn that contentment is not something that accidentally happens to you, it is something you actively decide upon. And you lay hold of it, re-deciding every day that enough is actually plenty.
I hope they learn that, at the end of the day, our truest Hope will never be found in our bank accounts or our government. Insitutions sometimes fall. He doesn’t.