More on thankfulness

I'm going to try very hard not to let this post descend into Pollyanna-ville. It's not meant to be glib or unreasonably cheerful. After all, if there weren't the struggle behind it, there'd be no reason for my practice.

Today I decided to challenge myself with the encouragement in 1 Thessalonions chapter 5: "In everything give thanks." I think I did it because as I climbed into bed last night, feeling rather low about the 2-week headache, I moaned to my husband that it just didn't seem worth getting up in the morning to face another day of being in pain. This is definitely an evolving process, as you might guess, but here's how the game is playing out today.

"Lord, it is 8:00 a.m. and there is a Monopoly game strewn all over my living room."

Thank You, Lord, that my children like playing together so much. Thank You that they have time to do this at such an hour of the morning rather than running in separate directions.

"Laundry, laundry, laundry! I can never keep up! Will it ever end?"

Lord, thank You that we all have clothes to wear. Dirty clothes mean clothes that have been worn. Thank You that we never have to go involuntarily naked.

"Okay, will my son EVER get the concept of putting his folded clothes away neatly? When do the words "nice stack" sink in?"

Thank You that I have the time to teach him (again). Thank You for his good mind, which WILL grasp this concept before he goes to college.

"Lord, my youngest daughter just peed in the back yard and washed her nice white shirt in the chickens' watering trough."

Thank You, dear Lord, for her concern for living things ("Mom, can I pee in the grass? The grass is saying to me (squeaky voice), "Caroline, I'm thirsty! Please water me!") and for her growing level of independence that inspires her to do her own laundry.

"Isn't it interesting how my son seems to challenging every direction I give him this morning!"

Lord, thank You for his tenacious personality. Thank You for his strong will. May he choose you with all his heart and hold to You with that same intensity.

"Lord, some of my children aren't grasping the concept of "library voices." I can hear them, shrieking about Spongebob, all the way over in the adult section off to which I sneaked."

Thank You, Lord, that they feel so at home in the library. Thank You that the Austin librarians are nicer than the ones in Simpsonville. You know of whom I speak.


Grace for the day ...