Things I Appreciate...

<=======  About this guy.

I think there are days when I know I'm lucky. And then there are days when I forget. It seems, the longer those stretches of forgetting - the more likely I am to wake up one day, weighted with the heaviness of gratitude. Not that gratitude is a burden. It's just that we can feel it so immensely, sometimes as a result of incidence - or sometimes simply because it floods the far recesses of our hearts and minds and reminds us to appreciate - to love - to be thankful. Such was this morning.

And for no reason in particular, except that as I tiptoed into our bedroom after letting him sleep a couple of hours more - breakfast tray full of goodies, in hand - his awakening from slumber had such an innocence and adorableness to it that the gratitude began to flow. The etchings of a good sleep in comfy sheets written all over his face, and the grin inching towards his eyes with delight at the discovery of my morning surprise. Even now as I hear the echoes of our lawnmower bounce off the brick walls of our lovely home, I'm thinking of a myriad of things for which I'm grateful for about him. The things I appreciate so much about who he is and what he does.

These sorts of things...

• He wonders about the most absurd, random and imaginative things.
• He reminds me to dream.
• He makes my dreams come true.
• He gets things done.
• He never does anything halfway.
• He tells me to go to the pool with my best friend on a day which had previously been designated yardwork day.
• He communicates with me, whether or not I'm resistant to doing so.
• He sings in the shower, without regard to audience.
• He often tells me the meals I get around to cooking these days are better than any he could have at even our most favorite of restaurants.
• He is the king of post-it love notes.
• He is clean as a whistle and yet, strangely never afraid to get dirty.
• He would shower three times a day if he could.
• He sleeps (and snores) hard.
• He makes faces at me.
• He could walk around our house everyday inspecting the health of our plants, trees, and shrubs, never growing weary of the chore.
• He asks, just about everyday, to see the baby... by which he means my belly.
• He lets me be a kid sometimes, in the way I really wasn't able to as an actual child.
• He is a kid... often.
• He plays with me.
• He travels with me.
• He has never once turned down a request from me to do his fingertips on my arm or back.
• He would trade every dollar or luxury in the world for my happiness and peace.
• He is so patient.
• He is undeservedly kind.

... to name just a few.

This Second of March

I am thankful for a lot of things.

Because I could choose to have little gratitude for difficult/annoying/frustrating/bothersome things in life, I will instead let my life be marked by the silver linings. More and more these days, when I look for them, I find there are actually too many to keep track of. How is it that I so easily miss them every other time in life?

First, there's Cliff. The man who has, in the last forty-eight hours, cleaned the apartment spotless, massaged my aching and incredibly tense shoulders, sent encouraging e-mails to me while I worked on a Sunday, taken me out to dinner, prayed for me, let me spend all of our tax-return and more on new gear, sorted through hundreds of photography books in Barnes & Noble to help me find the right ones, and held me. Oh, and it goes without saying, loved me.

And then there's the people that have cared for me so well. I want to name each of you, but I think it's more special that I don't. You have brought me to tears with your thoughtfulness, soothed my soul with your hugs, and reminded me of so much good. You have given me reason to laugh about the silliest (and grossest) things in life, let me talk about everything and nothing at all, and reminded me that everything happens for a reason. Also, you have been yourselves and have caused me celebrate you and your accomplishments and to pray for you and for your lives, lifting my eyes from my own self.

As strange as it is, I am also thankful for the snow that fell this weekend, seemingly late in the season (and still remains in patches on my car and on the ground outside). This sudden sweep of cold after a string of tantalizing warm pockets has been strangely sobering. Or maybe sobering isn't the right word. It's been, in a way, comforting. Winter is so often seen as dark, cold, and a season of - to put it plainly - death. Right when the warmth came, I thought I was ready to get past all of this stuff in my life that I'd been struggling so heavily with. A new season and I could just put it all behind me. But I wasn't ready, and this snow served to remind me that the beauty that comes from pain and from death is that much sweeter when you let yourself feel it instead of burying it deep within.

Anyways...

I can't believe it's March already. I want time to slow down a little bit. But I guess if that's the price we pay for living fully, maybe it's worth forking over. Do you think so?

It's Christmas Eve Morning

And surprise, surprise, I'm the only one up.

Every morning that we've been here, I've slipped out of bed and found a comfy place on the couch to plant myself on and make a dent into the good, easy read I picked up at the library. Usually it's another hour or so before someone makes their way from the back bedrooms or from the upstairs loft and half tiredly - half crankily join the world of the living.

This quiet time I relish. And on this particular morning that we're celebrating our Christmas here before hopping in the car later this afternoon, it has a particularly refreshing quality that I don't want to take for granted.

Reflection is so lovely and essential. It's a wonder I make it from day to day when I don't stop to think about cause and effect, beauty in difficulty, lessons in life and the like. I think that's what time like this is most useful for, because I find in reflection that it is easier to talk to God. To simply pray. And to find that I am grateful for so much more than I remember to thank Him for on a regular basis.

In this season, I am most of all thankful for the gift of a new and abundant life through Jesus. And that we have every reason to expect and to hope in Him. And that Christmas is so much more about giving than receiving and that I guess, with age, that's finally starting to make sense and become a reality to me. Though receiving is half the beauty of giving, don't you think?

Anyways, I'm rambling.

But we've had a great time here... walking around a memorial and the mall in Norfolk... taking in beautiful views at lunch and on a boardwalk stroll down at the beach... and best of all, watching movies, playing games, sharing meals, and snuggling with the cats here at home. I'm sad to be leaving in a couple of hours but grateful that our time with family isn't over just yet...

We'll be in our way to Maryland to visit with dad and the rest of the family up there, starting with Christmas Eve at my grandparents' house tonight!

A Thankful Game [Cliff]

Kristine e-mailed these questions to me, and here's what I have to say:

Something Functional in my house that I'm thankful for is:
The Toilet. Also, the shower.

Something about my body that I'm thankful for is:
You probably don't want to know. But I guess, also, my health and legs.

Something hard that I've been through that I'm thankful for is:
Living in Africa and being at West Point.

Something about this country that I'm thankful for is:
That we can have a transition in governmental leaders without militant action even when we don’t all agree together.

Something about 2008 that I'm thankful for is:
God meeting all of our needs.

A word I'm thankful for is:
Hope.

A sound I'm thankful for is:
Being able to hear wolves howl and an Elk bugle.

A place in nature I'm thankful for is:
Mountains. More specifically, the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone National Park.

A Thankful Game [Kristine]

God has given us much. We all have countless reasons to be thankful in every circumstance.

Here are some specifics:

Something functional in my house that I'm thankful for is:
The stove. Spending time cooking over our electric eyes or anticipating the goodness of something baking in the oven is what I spend a lot of my time doing at home. So, that just makes sense.

Something about my body that I'm thankful for is:
I have learned, recently, to be thankful for a lot of things about my body. But if I have to pick just "something", then... I love that my feet, my legs, and my lungs have carried me to heights I never dreamed of reaching. Like this one.

Something hard that I've been through that I'm thankful for is:
Having my heart broken by the person I love most in this world. In that sense, I have known the depths and the heights of our relationship in a way that has taught me more about grace and mercy than possibly anything else. I am a stronger woman, a greater friend, and a truer companion because of this. And he is a stronger man, a greater friend, and a truer companion because of it, as well.

Something about this country that I'm thankful for is:
Freedom and the right to be uncommon.

Something about 2008 that I'm thankful for is:
Travelling to new places in the world with my best friend.

A word I'm thankful for is:
Hope.

A sound I'm thankful for is:
Laughter.

A place in nature I'm thankful for is:
This place.



How about you?

An Expression of Gratitude

So this dance fusion yoga video is my new best friend. The instructor is a bad-a in that gentle, yogi dancer kind of way. She's ripped, and yet so incredibly graceful and I really enjoy her instructional style. Mostly, my favorite moments are when she reminds you to soften your eyes and to smile gently, as "an expression of gratitude and thanks for being able to do what you're doing". Whether it's the soft eyes in the middle of a Downdog Split or a smile at the end of an especially long plank, it's getting easier to do without her reminders, but I am very much grateful for them.

I am finding the phrase repeating in my mind when I least expect it. Which is nice, because I can use the reminder in my everyday life even more so than when I'm practicing yoga. The moment my eyes soften and the corners of my mouth turn up, every situation takes on a new perspective. That's not to say everything goes bright and cheery, and I'm Polly Positive. But something changes, or lightens, even sometimes only slightly. But that slightness makes all the difference.

Without realizing it, life can become an expression of everything but gratitude. I find I am discontent with friendships, with my physical appearance, with the clutter in our apartment, with the drain that schoolwork is when motivation is lacking, or with the apparent delay in securing a next foothold on my vocational path. And then, I sit down with the Bible in my lap and am astonished time and time again of the expression of thanks the authors of the Psalms expressed even in life-threatening situations.

So, right now, I am grateful.

I am grateful for the newly formed coffee stains on my marketing project outline, simply because it means I took a moment to enjoy the pleasure of making my own homemade latte.

I am grateful for a quick afternoon chat with mom and for a reminder of the care that others have for my day to day ramblings.

I am grateful for the rumbling of the engine on Cliff's Jimmy which signals that he's home and that I'll spend the next half hour hearing about what a blessing his day at work was (because it almost always is).

I am grateful for closed doors, whether it's work or travel or relationships, because it means there's something else, something better in store.

And I am grateful for the opportunity to spend the next twenty minutes or so working on preparing a recipe I have been dreaming up through most of the day.

What are you grateful for?