Lately, I’ve been thinking about how easy it is to recognize a good season of life only after it is already over.

We look back at old pictures and suddenly see things differently. The boys were little. Life was busy. The house was noisy. There were school schedules, meals, laundry, rides, arguments, laughter, and all the ordinary things that made up our days.

For me, the house itself hasn’t changed much. I have lived in the same home for the past 26 years. Trevor and I built this house together and put sweat equity into it. This is the house where I raised Cullin and Cooper, where so many different versions of our family have existed, and where so much of my life has unfolded.

The walls are familiar.

But the life inside them has changed over and over again.

There was a time when I was raising two little boys here. There was a time when Trevor was here. There were years when Nathan and I were raising the boys together. Now the boys are grown, the house is quieter, and I am a grandma.

Sometimes I can stand in the very same room and remember several completely different chapters of my life.

Maybe that is part of why I am thinking so much about noticing the good while it is happening. I know now how quickly a season can change, even when the scenery around you stays exactly the same.

I don’t want to keep waiting until something is over before I realize how much it meant to me.

I don’t want to look back five or ten years from now and think, That was such a good time in our lives. I wish I had appreciated it more.

I want to know it now.

That doesn’t mean everything is easy right now. If you’ve been reading this blog for any amount of time, you already know that isn’t true. My health still has a way of changing plans, stealing days, and reminding me that I don’t have nearly as much control over my body as I would like. There are appointments, migraines, pain, fatigue, and plenty of things I wish I didn’t have to think about.

But there is also so much good.

And I am trying really hard to notice it while I am standing right in the middle of it.

The Ordinary Things Are Starting to Look Different

Maybe getting older changes the way you see ordinary life.

My boys are grown now. They have lives of their own, and I am incredibly proud of the men they have become. There was a time when our house revolved around them. Everything from the grocery list to the calendar seemed to be connected to where they needed to be or what they needed next.

At the time, it felt normal because it was normal.

I didn’t know how quickly that season would disappear.

Now I have a granddaughter.

Watching Amara laugh, play, and discover things that the rest of us barely notice anymore has a funny way of slowing everything down. Something completely ordinary can be fascinating to her. A sound. A toy. A silly face. Something Cooper or Ruby does that makes her burst into that little laugh of hers.

And suddenly everyone else in the room is laughing too.

Those moments aren’t big milestones. Nobody plans them, and they aren’t always the ones you remember to take pictures of.

They’re just life.

But I’m beginning to think those are exactly the moments we end up missing the most.

Nathan and I Are in a Different Season Too

Nathan and I have spent so many years building a life around raising kids, working, medical appointments, surgeries, responsibilities, and everything adulthood throws at you.

Now our life looks different.

Sometimes it is the two of us driving somewhere with absolutely no shortage of things to talk about. Sometimes we’re exploring a place we’ve never been, pulling off the road because something looks interesting or deciding the drive itself can be part of the trip instead of something we have to hurry through.

Other times we’re home.

Maybe we’re sitting out in the U Betcha Bar with friends, playing darts or poker, laughing about something completely stupid and staying out there later than we intended. Maybe we’re working on another house project. Maybe we’re running errands together.

None of those things sound extraordinary when I write them down.

But that’s kind of the point.

This is our life.

And I like our life.

There is something incredibly comforting about realizing the person you have spent all these years with is still the person you genuinely want beside you when you’re doing absolutely nothing special.

I don’t want to overlook that just because it feels normal.

I Have Spent a Lot of Years Waiting for Things to Get Better

When you live with chronic illness, it is very easy to divide life into “now” and “when.”

When I feel better.

When we get answers.

When this migraine finally goes away.

When I’m done recovering from surgery.

When the next appointment is over.

When life settles down.

I have spent a lot of my life waiting for some version of normal to arrive.

The problem is that life doesn’t really work that way.

There is always something.

Even during the happiest seasons of our lives, worry can sit right beside joy. Pain can show up on a beautiful vacation. Uncertainty can creep in during a wonderful family weekend. Exhaustion can follow a night spent laughing with friends.

I’ve had to learn that a good life isn’t necessarily a life where nothing difficult is happening.

Sometimes the good and the hard are happening at exactly the same time.

That realization has changed something in me.

Instead of waiting for everything to be perfect before I let myself enjoy it, I am trying to notice what is good right now.

Not someday.

Not when everything settles down.

Now.

Maybe This Is One of the Good Old Days

I understand that idea more now than I ever did when I was younger.

Someday Amara won’t be this little.

Someday Nathan and I will look back at the trips we’re taking now and laugh about the places we stopped, the things that went wrong, and the ridiculous conversations we had along the way.

Someday the boys will be older than they are today, with even more chapters of their own lives behind them.

Someday the house that holds so much of my story will feel different too, even if the walls are still the same.

And someday the people sitting around our table or hanging out with us in the garage won’t all be there in exactly the same way they are now.

That’s not meant to be sad.

It’s just true.

Life moves.

It always has.

And maybe one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves is learning to recognize a beautiful season without needing to know how long it will last.

What Is Good in Your Life Right Now?

Maybe your life doesn’t look anything like mine.

Maybe you’re raising little kids, and you’re exhausted.

Maybe you’re caring for someone you love.

Maybe you’re grieving.

Maybe your health is uncertain, your family is changing, your job is stressful, or you’re standing in the middle of a season you never expected.

I’m not going to tell you to “just focus on the positive.” I have never believed that pretending the hard things aren’t hard helps anybody.

But I do think it is possible to hold both.

You can be worried and grateful.

You can be hurting and still laugh.

You can be exhausted and recognize that something beautiful is happening.

You can wish something were different and still love parts of the life you have.

So lately, I have been trying to ask myself a simple question:

What is good right now?

For me, it is my husband beside me. My grown sons building lives of their own. A granddaughter whose laugh can completely change the mood of a room. Friends who make ordinary nights fun. Trips we haven’t taken yet and memories from the ones we already have. Work I enjoy. A home filled with decades of memories and still making new ones.

And yes, even a body that has put me through more than I ever imagined, because somehow, after everything, I am still here to experience all of it.

I don’t know what the next season will bring.

None of us do.

But I know I don’t want to spend this one looking so far ahead that I miss what is right in front of me.

Because there is a lot of good here.

And this time, I want to notice it while it’s happening.