Today, We Remember.

I could say so many things today. There are so many emotions and memories associated with the September 11th attacks that I am tearing up as I type these words.

But all I will say is this. I am deeply thankful for the men and women who sacrificed themselves to rescue others, who volunteered their time and money to help our country recover, and that I get to live out this mysterious, beautiful gift called life in a nation that protects the life and liberty of her people.

I am so proud to be an American. May we never forget, and may we never forget to be thankful.

 

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The Monday Blahs

Today is such a Monday.

I’m not one of those people who chronically has a case of The Mondays. Sometimes my Mondays are light and airy and the perfect start to a new week, or rich and beautiful like a well-appointed Thursday where all my cylinders are pumping at full speed, and occasionally they are quiet and peaceful, like a second Sunday. But I’d say half my Mondays are THE Mondays.

The Monday Blahs, or just The Mondays, as they are more commonly known, take on two flavors. They are either sluggish and frustrating, something akin to a Saturday that you accidentally spent all on the couch and now you have one of those weird headaches you get from sitting too long, or they fly in your face like a bat from hell you were not expecting. Either way, nothing goes the way you wanted it to.

Today has been more like the first type. I had problems getting out of bed, and then I feel back asleep eating breakfast. My tub is so clogged it fills to overflowing within the space of one regular length shower, and the repair guy still has not come. I realized that somehow every one of my nails, freshly painted last night, with the exception of one tiny pinky fingernail, is already hopelessly messed up. I wrote all morning, and was going along at a decent clip, when the cat walked over my keyboard and deleted the whole thing. My kitchen still needs cleaning from a lazy weekend full of brunches and having friends over. One of my favorite plants is dying and I don’t know why. I need to go grocery shopping desperately, but payday isn’y until tomorrow. I lack motivation to do anything but read, but I can’t decide what I even want to read.

This is just not my day.

I was on the verge of working myself up into a teenage girl-worthy pity party, when that little voice in the back of my head whispered to me, and suddenly I was alright. Because, you know what? It’s all okay. (The view from my seat as I write this blog. I won’t show you the kitchen part of my view though, it really is atrocious.)

I work from home so a nap didn’t hurt anything, and now I feel much better. It’s okay. My tub is clogged, but I live in a country where clean, safe, running water is the norm. I live in an apartment building where repairs are free. It’s okay. In the grand scheme of things, painted nails don’t matter even a little bit. And I can always re-do them. It’s okay. God gave me a really creative mind, I can re-write whatever I lost, and it’ll probably be better the second time around. Shoot, I get to write for my job, just like I always dreamed. It’s okay. Every living thing, plant, human, animal, is a gift. I may not be able to save my little hanging basket of beauty, but it brought joy while it lasted. It’s okay. I have a small kitchen, it’ll only take ten minutes to clean. Plus, I’ll never regret those lazy brunches or Friday nights spent with friends. It’s okay. I may not have as much food as I’d like in my fridge right now, or the food I ideally want, but I’m not going to go hungry. In fact, I’ve never gone hungry in my whole life. I’m more than okay, I’m richly blessed.

God causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust, on the Mondays, but also on the Tuesdays and the Fridays and all the other days as well.  Even on my rainiest of Mondays, I have so much to be thankful for. So I’m going to go make myself a sandwich, even though a plain old turkey sandwich isn’t what I really want (Mmmmm…sushi!), and I’m going to text my husband and my mom, and probably my dad and brother too, and tell them how much I love them, because I’m lucky to have so much love in my life (I’ll probably cuddle my Cambria kitty, and give her a little piece of turkey, because I love her too.), and I’m going to turn on some Ella Fitzgerald and dance around my kitchen as I clean it. And while I do all this, I’m going to soak myself in the knowledge that no matter what I lack, no matter what goes wrong today, I am blessed beyond measure.

Have a great Monday, friends!

27 Years

Once upon a time, my parents were not my parents. Once, twenty-seven years ago, they were just a man and a woman in love who decided to get married.

For twenty-seven years they have loved and laughed, raised their brood, weathered the storms, and through it all, they have always pointed to Christ.

Thanks for being such wonderful parents. But most importantly, thanks for modeling a godly marriage. Thanks for loving each other, for staying together even through the darkest days. Thank you for being honest about your struggles, but thank you also for kissing in front of me and Andrew, even though we thought it was gross.  When we are dancing at our daughter’s wedding, I hope Tyler and I look this happy and in love.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad! You are deeply appreciated.

Eucharisteo

1: Morning sunshine that splashes across my desk.

2: Cold, clean water

3: Packing lunches for Tyler- being able to take care of the one who takes care of me.

19: Really good friends that I didn’t expect.

20: Getting letters in the mail, and not just bills.

21: The smooth slice of peeling potatoes.

45: My warm husband nuzzled beside me in our cold, little bed.

46: Old book smell

47: Uncontrollable belly-laughter on the phone with my mom.

50: Quiet

I’ve been reading this book, One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. I’m only to page 73, but it has already taught me so much. Ann was challenged to list 1,000 things she was thankful for, and in the process she learned how thanksgiving, eucharisteo in the Greek,  is so essential to our joy (the derivative for joy, chara, is even found in the word eucharisteo), how we may be saved without it, but we’ll never experience abundant life unless we learn to embrace it. Writing down all the little blessings she would normally have ignored was a way to profess her thankfulness and name her joy, helping her really learn the lifestyle of thankfulness. Even in the bleak times, joy can be found so long as you can humble yourself and be thankful, for we are children of the King, and we are always blessed.

I want to learn this too, and so I decided to start my own list. I’m on day two of my “Gift List,” and I just thought I’d share a few of them with you. Because I am thankful for you too, my friends. You are most certainly on my list. I’m finding that every time I add something to the list, it makes me a little more heedful of what’s around me.

#53: A baby that smiles at me over her mother’s shoulder. (Lord, thank you for new life, fresh and curious. Thank you that I am new too.) #54: Rosemary’s wrinkled, beautiful hands. (Father, thank you for my unexpected friend, and thank you for her hard-earned wisdom.) #55: A text from Tyler, simply reading “I love you.”. (I don’t deserve such a loving man, Lord. Thank you for the grace that gave me my marriage. I am so humbled. I am so grateful.)

I want to learn this practice now, while I’m in a bountiful season, so that when the storms come again I may weather them a little better than before.

What about you- what little gifts are you thankful for? What is God instilling in your heart right now? I’m so excited to share this with you! I challenge you to try it. Start with 100 gifts, one hundred things your thankful for, and see if it doesn’t till your soil too.

Until next time,

Amanda