flowers. muffins. guacamole. front steps. strong yummy coffee.
the best street in Omaha. 🙂
basil growers and basil chats and the pesto that is to come!
perfectly worn-in t-shirts.
friends who remember things about me I had already forgotten.
funny little souls to babysit.
fruit snacks and dinosaurs and legos and footie pajamas.
I am so loved. I am so secure. Your faithfulness is always.
time around the table, face to face. it seems I’ll never get my fill of long conversations.
stores and gas stations and fast food and email and phones and hot water and the library and ice cream and electricity. (Can you tell, I just lived a book about civilization after an apocalypse type situation??)
this prayer. (Thanks, Deidra.)
Sometimes I re-think keeping on with this, counting gifts and sharing some of them. Maybe I’m glossing over my struggles or living with blinders on to the heartbreaking things going on in the world around me? Maybe I take too many pictures of flowers and am too grateful for coffee, isn’t that kindof silly?
I do know that this habit changes me into a person more likely to bring good to my corners of the world. It smooths worry from my anxious, often overly empathetic heart. My eyes open wider and I am humbled by grace. It’s a start.
Maybe we could be a people known not by our disgust and judgmentalism, but by our gratitude and our joy because gratitude starts movements. You can’t be moved by grace — and not become a revolutionary. –Ann Voskamp