Everyday Thankful

As a chronic worrier, my cup, through this warped lens of worry, tends many times to appear half empty, even though I know that it's almost always full and spilling over with good things. I'll go out on a limb and assert that in this anxiety-ridden culture in which we live and take our cues, I am far from alone.

It's not something I'm proud of. I push back against my inclinations. 

I have come to see thankfulness in my life as a discipline to be honed, refined, and practiced often. It is foundational and essential. It is sustaining and life-giving.

This year, I have thought a lot about what a blessing is and what it isn't. I've also thought a lot about what blessing has to do with gratitude. Here is my conclusion:

Happiness is not a blessing.

Health is not a blessing.

Circumstance is not a blessing.

Thankfulness for all of it. Regardless of any of it. That's the blessing.

Summer, for me, is a time for me to slow down, reassess priorities, and take a deep breath of thankfulness.

Sustaining, life-giving, intentional thankfulness.

When I am able to do this, my cup spills over.

I am thankful for the gift and responsibility of motherhood,

For little girls who are readers,
For this one, who still wants to share with me

I am thankful for love notes to daddy

For green grass and lazy afternoons in the sprinklers

And for fireflies.

I am thankful for the farm on Bluegrass Road,
For legacy and tradition

 For good-byes,

And new beginnings

I am thankful for giggling girls on porch steps and recycled bikes

I am thankful for the messiness of finger-painting

And for hermit crabs in the bed

I am thankful for little arms around my neck,

For red hair and new freckles

 And for  time alone with my baby boy, who is really not a baby anymore

 (but don't tell him that).

My cup, in the chaos, in the mess, in every moment, overflows.