Thanks 3

I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.  Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Rain today.  But rain that did not depress . . . or aggravate my easily disturbed homeostasis.  It did not tightly bottle the energy of my children to the point of a water kefir explosion with permanent discoloration upon their souls. 

They . . . they delighted in learning.  Swift hugs.  Air kisses.  Letter C’s.  Cuneiform.  The land of Sumer, home to paper and the Fertile Crescent.  A stick figure Elijah who had faith to call upon heaven and light afire on wet wood.

Random quotes from my husband such as, “It’s big, heavy, colors don’t match.{dramatic pause}  I wouldn’t have it.” and “I’m so tired; I think I’ll fall asleep riding my bike to work tomorrow.” 

And me, imagining my Engineer in plaid pajamas (even though I have never known him to wear such a bold covering), long cap with a fuzzy white pom pom, and Snoopy pillow . . . being towed by Jeff.  The very Jeff who wants me to write about how our food is delivered to our doorstep.  (Please tell them I sent you.)

A white sink that appeared after a long absence; discovered by my mom who is braver than I.

Romano encrusted chicken salad delivered.  Even though I haven’t lived with my mom in years, she still feeds me with her hands.

Candles that flicker to the graceful keystrokes of David Neveu.

A simple coffee shared with the Engineer . . . over a provocative discussion involving carpet tiles.

The second post . . . the third day . . . in November.  Thankful.

Visit my friend Conny to make your own list.  Don’t have a blog?  Leave a comment here . . . or there.

Thanks . . .

This marks the third year.  The third year that I have known Conny and that she has offered thanks.  In November.  For the month of November.

She really is thankful during the other 11 months.  It’s just that she is making a POINT of tell the WORLD in November that she has some things that she just wants to say thanks about. 

“You shouldn’t have God.  But You did.  Thanks from little ‘ol me.”

I’ll join her. 

November 1 and 2 . . .

Number 1:  Ya know that I attended the Relevant Conference.  I learned lots and really need to share.  It is thru writing that I process.  More on that later.  BUT because of this conference I had that chance to truly see that the Engineer . . . rocks.

I normally try and stay silent about his major rock-ness.  But I can’t.  The guy basically lactated.  Not really.  But he totally took care of Naomi.  She was even wearing pink when I returned.  (At least, I think she was.  She matched.)

Number 2: The house was picked-up.

Number 3:  And the Engineer . . . was preparing lunch.  Number 4: I was greeted by his backside.  Which I didn’t mind.

Number 5: Bonus . . . . flowers.

Number 6:  The hugs have continued from my sons even though I have been home since Sunday morning.  Love this.  I’m thinking about leaving again, just so that I can feel like a celebrity upon my arrival home again.

Number 7:  Obedience equals milk and a happily reunited mommy and nursing babe.

Number 8:  Leaves on the trees.  Still. 

I love that I encountered snow, but returned home to sunshine.

Number 9:  The dirt pile is gone!  I have a driveway again.

Number 10:  A good school day.  A nice mother-in-law who brings lunch, coffee, folds laundry, and helps with Awana verses.

Multitudes on Mondays: Bellies

I think pregnant women are beautiful. 

Especially their bellies. 

I got to rub this one . . . and take pictures. 

Amateur photos, that is.

Honored.  Thankful.  Amazed. 

Being with a laboring woman . . . to feel the power of life.  The miracle of life. 

God is a creative One.  Of that I am sure.

¹³ For you created my inmost being;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
   your works are wonderful,
   I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place,
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be.
¹⁷ How precious to me are your thoughts,God!
   How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ Were I to count them,
   they would outnumber the grains of sand—
   when I awake, I am still with you.

Psalm 139:  13-18

So . . . not a list of multitudes.  Just one.

Life.  Powerful. 

OK . . . I can’t resist.  Here are a few more.  My journal is beside me.

250.  Mountain biking with my sons and experiencing “danger” with them prayerfully.

251.  Bagels roasted over an open fire.

252.  A computer box in the hands of a UPS man, just before we left for vacation.

253.  Grimy bathrooms that house gentle showers and refreshment at a campground.

257.  A meal filled with ingredients from our garden.

258.  A night of delivering essential oils like St. Nicholas.

262.  My mother-in-law and her Kerug . . . while camping.  Thank you electric campsites.

263.  Electric dog training collars.

264.  A 7 year old boy who wanted to make sure his brothers received presents on HIS birthday.

265.  Fellowship and feasts . . . miles from home.

Multitude on Mondays

There are so many simple things to be thankful for . . . and it is especially easy after returning from a vacation.  Two vacations . . .

• walking barefoot on clean wood floors after two weeks of constantly having shoes on
• a well-watered garden (thanks Christina!)

• grocery stores that are open at 10:00 PM  . . . otherwise we would have had nothing but kimchi for breakfast the morning proceeding our evening arrival home from Family Camp (see what we learned).  We were “supposed” to pull into our driveway at 5:38 PM according to the GPS . . . try something closer to 9:00.  At least when you travel with potty training kids . . . your legs never get stiff!
• ginger . . . the lid for stomachs that frequently want to dump themselves when traveling in the car . . . not that I had to pull over beside a field in Canada or anything. 

• Great-Grandpa holding his 13th great-granddaughter

• free oils that make water taste yummy

• walking laps in the pool with Naomi while the boys swam with the Engineer
• sweet weeks of fellowship with both sets of grandparents
• the jiggle of the doorknob . . . the same doorknob I used 30 years ago

• a patient great-uncle who taught my son how to fish

• living out of my comfort zone to impress my sons

• a perfect start to rock jumping with my dad . . . and the boys (kind of)

• passing memories on to my children

• a quick processing of passports
• leaving surprises for others to find and contribute to

• a perfect Saturday . . . staying home
• the Engineer
• receiving texts from the Engineer while hibernating in Canada – the wonders of technology when I was so far removed from electricity

• finding Gabe . . . twice
• how my mom brings hospitability to the woods with morning lattes
• kayaking through a field of lily pads

• kayaking alongside the Engineer while he swam a 1/2 mile
• that at least I have my dad’s and uncle’s pictures of our Canada trip
• the generosity of Ezra’s teacher to loan me a memory card while at Fort Wilderness
• Nana who was willing to tote Gabe’s potty wherever he wanted to sit
• a late night canoe ride with my dad
• sunsets

• moon rises

 

• strong arms and close proximity for when a motor drinks all of its sustenance

• daily coffees delivered to me at Fort Wilderness Family Camp compliments of my MIL
• having the majority of my Young Living oils with me to reduce fevers, soothe stomachs, stop ralphing, annoy bugs, calm itchy bug bites, dress burns, eradicate headaches

 

• amazing weather

• fresh Canadian blueberries at my doorstep