Waiting in doctor's offices or in line at the grocery store, or even in a traffic jam, I am seldom bored. I am a people watcher, always wondering what puts a secret smile on one woman's face and a perpetual scowl on another's. We wear clever masks, you see, unless we're convinced that no one is watching. Then the facade fades, even if just for a moment, sometimes revealing peace, more often, turmoil.

I can easily pick out the achievers, those who seek accolade and honor. But even as success comes, in unguarded moments, a hunger steals across their faces and you know they are looking for the next award, the next round of applause, the next best thing in the world to happen to them.

Also, I usually have no problem recognizing the resigned. In their unguarded moments their visage reveals an overwhelming sense of disappointment and disillusionment. Their faces tell a story of someone who is just putting in their time, nothing truly touching them and they, in turn, touching no one.

I admit, I live a charmed life. I am wholly committed and helplessly in love with my husband. He is my best friend, lover, chief critic and most ardent supporter. We have weathered gale force winds, rising tides, shattering storms and still the Lord God has woven a marvelous tapestry of our lives, with colors of every hue, and no one, least of all us, can tell where one ends and the other begins.

My children are my most precious blessing. Nature left me next to barren, though this was undiscovered for years. Still, the Lord opened my womb, not once, but three miraculous times, and I love to love my children. Every stage of their lives became my favorite, best time with them. None more so than now, as I watch their tapestries form with their spouses and children of their own. Not a doctor, lawyer or Indian Chief among them, but they are full of compassion and love, and what mother could ask for more than that?

Our little home is a blessed shelter every day, strong old walls surround us as they've surrounded generations before us. We have managed to put our fingerprints on every surface. and after only five short years, these aged walls echo our memories back at us.

My job is pure joy for so many reasons and I am well aware of how truly rare that is in our society. I love the people I meet, I love helping them tell their stories, and I love the readers who wait with anticipation each day to hear the light thump on the front porch that signals that the paper has arrived. Here, we share triumph and tragedy, our own and those of the communities around us. I work with people I love more dearly every day and here I have learned how to truly live out Paul's admonition to rejoice with those who are rejoicing and to mourn with those who mourn. I wouldn't change one thing about my job and will do it as long as the Lord God gives me the strength and ability to do it well.

A charmed life. That's me.

But except for one thing, it would all be as meaningless as the next wave breaking along the coastline. Though my life is made up of meaningful relationships and is lived out in what is arguably the highest standard of living known to man, it is all so very fragile. It could all disappear in an instant. And I would be undone.

Except for that one thing.

Anything could happen. My years of marriage could come to a screeching halt at the doorway of death or even divorce. The children could be taken or could take themselves out of my life of their own free will. My house, so strong, is destined someday to fall, why not tomorrow? And jobs? Well, as the saying goes, I was looking for a job when I found this one. Unimaginable as it may be, one day the door may lock behind me, and me without a key.

And still I would be living a charmed life, because of that one thing.

The Puritan's Prayer captures my heart's song when I look around and count my many blessings, even on the stormy days when it seems all is lost and all has been for naught. "All this, and Jesus, too."

When all is said and done, he is my story. He is my song. If I have nothing but Jesus, I have all things.

Oh, how I wish I could convey that message to one and all -- to the achiever, who sets his latest prize on the shelf and turns immediately to begin the hunt for the next prize or the perpetually despondent soul who wakes each morning and wonders why he bothered. Oh, that they too could one day look at their circumstance and, whether in want or in plenty, pray with a heart of gratitude, "All this and Jesus, too."

"Oh the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out. 'Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?' Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him?' For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen." Romans 11:33-36 (NIV)

Things you won't see in heaven: the big D's -- death, divorce, dismay, despair, etc.