1. Geez, today has been a hard day for me, for no explicable reason I can identify, except to say I was in a mood! Argh. But as my good husband points out, I have the same number of kids at the end of the day that I started out with, so that's something to be grateful for! And the weather was beautiful, so that kinda eased the mood periodically.
2. I was invited to a Southern Living "party," where I saw some lovely (and expensive) things, but I was grateful for a chance to talk to my neighbors.
3. I was grateful for a chance to go out to lunch with my honey while the girls went to a friend's birthday party (where they had a glorious time), and then be invited to dinner by some other friends, which means I didn't have to prepare any meals beyond breakfast this morning and my kids got a reprieve from me, the She-Beast (**snarl!**). Thank you, my friends, for lifting that burden today for a while.
I wish I could find this song by Michael McLean called, "Lullaby for Me." (off his album, Tender Mercies) It's about a mother who has had a hard day and is so sweet. Alas, I cannot, but if I can I will post it.
In the meantime...
"I thank God for my handicaps, said Helen Keller, unable to hear a bubbling stream or see its glistening green or put it into praise. Yet she praises: I thank God for my handicaps, for through them I have found myself, my work, my God.
"That, to me, is thanksgiving. It's not about being glad for the good things that have happened to us –– they are simply moments in the sun. Thanksgiving is standing still, with an injured and an open heart and letting the River run freely through us. Each year at this time, I stop and cast into the water. I recount the story of the year past, of life given and taken away: our planet's staggering losses, our moments of forgiveness, our fulgent gains. I think of a friend's child who came swimming into this world on amniotic rivers, and I remember my grandmother's final crossing over to the other shore. I remember the intense hope of eyes brimming with the vows of marriage, and the loosening tears of those whose hope was broken. I think of my own love found, or friends lost.
"We are what we are given and what is taken away, blessed by the name of the giver and taker... The confluence of all things returns to the Sea, the Source. The Gift unites with the Giver. Let the river run. The banks of my heart are wide with thanks." ~Run River Run, By Susan Hull