Thursday, November 27, 2014
Squirreled away on my bookshelf is a plain, brown composition book I use to number the blessings of my days and years. It is by no means complete. There are sometimes gaps of months in which blessings fall like leaves from the trees and are swept away and forgotten. A week or two before Thanksgiving I often read a handful of pages from my book in order to frame my holiday with something more than turkey and pie. May I share a few items with you?
19. eating fairy snow beneath the lamppost at twilight with granddaughters
48. this cocoon of grace I'm sheltering in until I'm holy changed
92. Eagle Nebula: womb of stars, cocoon of light
99. husband snoring in bed beside me
113. the mistakes I've made as a mother that add depth to my counsel
170. a good night's sleep
207. graces so commonplace they lose their luster with the using of them
227. grandchildren pretending to like my spaghetti when it has zucchini in it
293. sitting on the grass with my grandson looking for shapes in the clouds
327. the hidden work of God
Counting my blessings has always been an effective way to change my perspective and cultivate a heart of gratitude no matter what circumstances I find myself in. A by product of all that gratefulness is often a burst of unexpected joy. How beautiful it is that we have a day set aside each year to celebrate the bounty and blessings given so gratuitously by our Maker.