Obviously, I need to write a gratitude list

I am not in the mood to be around anyone. I am sick of being fat, sick of not doing what I want, sick of my past constantly getting in the way of my today, and generally discouraged that I seem to be in the same place for so long. I felt like journal-ling about it, and then found out my husband just deleted my journal because he thought he was closing it.
I'm tired of not having carpeting in the kids' rooms or stairway and it looking like a slum. Tired of not having kitchen cabinets and of the floor, which is ripped up since it was installed in 1976. Tired of my dirty van, of not finishing things, not having friends, not having fun, feeling guilty, feeling like I will never move on, feeling alone.
Sad that I never had my own kids, that I still have not been to Europe, that my kids have not seen the ocean, that I can't go on a FLIPPING VACATION, that my kids are hooked on electronics, that our bills are not paid in so many categories and I have no idea how they will be.

Too much

I had a friend in college that let herself feel too much about what she took in. She lost her mind for a period of time and had to be committed. I am very careful how much I let in. If there are too many sad things, or too big or too much of a sad thing, I can't take much more in one day. Last year it was the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. This year it is something else.

Money, power, pink, red

Planned Parenthood has won this one. They spent a lot of money, and they'll make a lot of money. And they'll do so off the shredded corpses of children and the raped consciences of women. If Jesus' kingdom were of this world, we'd be fundraising to keep up with them.

But what we have is greater than that. We have a word that tells a pregnant young woman that we believe her Down Syndrome baby is a gift, not a health care burden. And we can offer the kind of gospel that cleanses the conscience and offers what outlasts money and power: life and that to the uttermost.

Let's work to legally protect women and children. And let's grieve that old Mammon has won the day, again. But let's not grieve like the pagans who have no hope. When it comes to the struggle for life, the color of victory isn't pink like a ribbon. It's red like a cross.

-- Russell D. Moore