Where do I look for happiness?

I have a problem. I look for happiness in the wrong places. Not drink or drugs or anything too physically harmful. Chocolate and Netflix at times, certainly.
But worse, for them and for me, I look for my happiness in others.
As parents, the temptation to live vicariously through our children is always there - for our own lives to become shallow and hollow as we desperately try to hang on to their coat tails. Our preoccupation with them can become obsessive, stifling, suffocating.
Is it more so with me because I lost Jennifer? I don't know. But I do know that I continually make that mistake. I often look for my happiness in my children.
And here I am, doing it all over again with my grandchild. Wondering when I can next see her, hold her, never ever satisfied.
And that's the thing I keep having to relearn over and over. That's the clue, in fact, which warns me I'm looking for happiness in the wrong place all over again. When we do that, it never satisfies, we can never ever get enough.
Eleven years ago, a wise friend reminded me that we've not to depend on anyone except God for our happiness.
'Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty."'
The right place to look is Jesus.

Early Days

It is early days. Snow on the ground, in fact. Only a few hours of daylight, and very tiny green shoots pushing through the ground, to give hope of spring.
And it's early days for number two daughter and her husband, with a little bundle of life now seven days old. Rubbing their tired eyes, falling in love with her all over again every time they look at her, wondering how many layers of clothes she needs for their first venture outdoors.
And early days for me too, still breathing out that sigh of relief and prayers of thankfulness. Muscles still relaxing, spindles gradually loosening, shoulders slowly dropping.
Not for them, the agony of loss. Thank you, Father.