One Thousand Gifts #s 23-46

I have a confession: grace did not come easily to me this week. In fact, I fear many times I ran from it, preferring to abscond among gripes and exasperation, hiding my face in shame from Ann's book, not bearing to read another page because I knew every word would convict me, make me have to change, have to do the oft-harder thing of choosing thanksgiving over complaint. It was almost as though I could see Ann shaking her head at me - I didn't want to let her down. But I know it was not her I was letting down, of course. It was not even God I was wholly letting down, necessarily; but myself, by not choosing to see His goodness even on the longest days. Myself, and the people around me. So often I am horribly guilty of just "getting through" the days; I waste moments as though they were pennies being thrown carelessly into a fountain.  

If it were just me, maybe that would be less abhorrent. But to crave bedtime from the moment I awake in the morning when my beautiful 20-month old is right in front of me learning and growing, it's selfishness and squandering, carelessness and recklessness to the ten-thousand-times-worse degree. And so, in spite of many moments this past week while snowbound of pushing time, spurning it on, uselessly willing it to move, to hurry up; because I've read just enough of "One Thousand Gifts" for the ideas of counting gifts to be permanently emblazoned on my consciousness and my heart, I did my very best to keep on counting. (And really, if you've started the book, you know you need only read a page or two in for the emblazoning to begin, so having read up to midpoint, there is no turning back. No sooner would a blind man given sight choose to go back to his world of darkness. And I wouldn't have it any other way.) 

This time, I give thanks for...

23. Imbibable, sweet, chocolate-flavored art in a cup (with a delicious mocha hiding just under the surface)

24. Mushrooms' soft earthiness

25. The bubble and squeak they make as they cook in butter

26. The way mushrooms are masters of disguise, becoming the flavor that surrounds them

27. Spring-grass green onions

28. Rain tapping night-darkened windows

29. Snow falling big and fluffy

30. Crystals gleaming from new baby snow banks

31. Cold, rosy cheeks

32. Cozy pajama days

33. Heating we so easily take for granted

34. Stovetop cooking, the "old-fashioned" (broken microwave) way, making me slow down and be purposeful, and think about times gone by

35. A sweet boy turning 20-months old

36. Family game of Scrabble at the kitchen table

37. Bathtime bubble-blowing and laughter

38. Dresden saying "bubbles" as clear as can be

39. The innumerable times we laughed together this week

40. His ticklish knees

41. Little boys in old-man hats (and Darth Vader shirts, lol!)

41. Sweet toes

42. The detail of his long, beautiful lashes (God IS in the details!)

44. A hand-written letter from a loved one.
45. Chills and choking up at our National Anthem (flubbed lines and all, the power of it is a beautiful thing).

46. Being snowbound for nearly a week at home opening my eyes to how many times I use the phrase "kill time", allowing me to remove that phrase from my vocabulary and start living every moment to the fullest I possibly can.

This week, I will pick up the book again, and let God continue to carve my spirit through Ann's inspired words, keeping my eyes trained, searching hungrily for all those gifts right in front of me. They are there in the grey just as sure as the light. I know this. 

Love,

Cassie


Note: Sorry the formatting/spacing is so weird, I have no idea why, but I think it has something to do with these being pictures from my phone that I imported.