I am grateful that I am loaded with benefits, that I am carried and supported, that I am blessed beyond what I deserve.

I am grateful for cheap chips on a road trip – and grateful that I am not a truck driver, because I would weigh 972 pounds with this willpower or lack of.

I am grateful for this nugget from my devotions this morning:

A friend is someone who walks in when others walk out. – Walter Winchell

I am grateful for an abundance of friends who didn’t walk out, who didn’t abandon me, who didn’t feel the need to “fix” me with unsolicited advice but instead, they held my hand, offered their shoulder to lean on, and supported me with lots of prayer.

I am grateful for two pairs of glasses, so that when one becomes a toy and takes on a new shape, I still have a back-up pair.

I am grateful for this new book that I am so privileged to be reading, an advance copy of Jen Hatmaker’s revised edition of “Interrupted.”  “Love Does” was a life-changer for me, as was “12 Steps for the Recovering Pharisee” and “True-faced.” Guess what. “Interrupted” is the next book in the life-changing library on my shelf, and it will be the next book that I will give to anyone who will read it.

I am grateful for Psalm 68:19 today that was also a part of my devotions this morning. I looked up different versions, and I love these:

Blessed be the Lord, Who daily loads us with benefits, the God of our salvation! (NKJV)

Praise the Lord; praise God our Savior! For each day He carries us in His arms. (NLT)

Bless the Lord! The God of our salvation supports us day after day! (CEB)

I am grateful for a successful bike ride to Oklahoma City, for the cool weather on a mid-July day that made the ride very pleasant, for a protective suit that Sam bought for me, for the sights and sounds of the ride that were first-time experiences along with the trip itself, and for a driver who is cautious and took extra care to help me to feel secure and safe.

I am grateful for a fanny pack to keep my phone and a pack of cinnamon Certs while we rode down I-35. And I am grateful that I DON’T CARE WHAT PEOPLE THINK and am comfortable with the laughter. I also know who will be receiving a fanny pack for Christmas this year because they made such a big deal about ours…

My first selfie. Ugh.

 And our last selfie, because I think that term is ridiculous, as is the trend.

I am grateful for a pretty terrific birthday party weekend with my daughter and her family.

I am grateful for time spent with Jared again. What an example he is of living in a state of joy and generosity.

I am grateful for the opportunity to sing with and play for Karissa again. It is one of best blessings of my life to hear my daughter sing while I play for her.

I am grateful for much laughter while playing games. It would have been easier to have gone to bed after such a long day, but if I had, I would have missed out on time well-spent. Besides, I can sleep when I’m dead.

I am grateful for the experience and memory of singing Skinnamarink-y-dink-y-dink with Andrae and Anissa and Jared and Sam in the truck.

I am grateful to have had the privilege of looking at Karissa’s scrapbook again and reliving some wonderful memories. I am so grateful she has those pictures.

I am grateful for Annistan’s hug and the fact that she wanted ME to hold her. I hadn’t experienced that with her…until this weekend.

I am grateful for my husband who gave up a special weekend to attend Andrae’s party because it was important to me, because he loves that little guy, and because he has a huge heart and wants to focus on building the future, not dwell on the past.

I am grateful for my daughter’s friends. I am so grateful she has many – it was wonderful to meet Evelyn and Whitney, and to know Julie and the women at North Church.

I am grateful for so many opportunities to see my daughter and her family since Mother’s Day. This was the fifth visit since, and we will be privileged to see them again this weekend.

I am grateful for fat cheek giggles and dribble chins.

Yep. I’m loaded with benefits and blessed beyond what I deserve.

(Gotta give credit where credit is due:  Pictures by Jared Wanzer. Google him. And then book a sitting and help feed a photographer.)

I am grateful to have seen a guy who dances freely as he walks down the street and he doesn’t care who sees him.

I am grateful for excellent customer service. It makes ALMOST all the difference in the world.

I am grateful that I belong to a church that operates out of humility, direction from God to our senior pastor and beyond.

I am grateful when someone shows genuine appreciation. My Mom taught me how important it is when receiving a gift or kindness to show genuine appreciation to the giver and to treat each gift and kindness as if it were the most treasured.

I am grateful to have been extended an invitation to my grandson’s 3^rd birthday party this weekend. This will be my first birthday party to attend for one of my grandchildren, and I am so excited.

I am grateful for new adventures, for the ability and the freedom to step WAY outside of my comfort zone and get on the back of a bike for a road trip. Who woulda thunk it. ME, on a motorcycle again.

I am grateful for the requirement to pack light – it prevented me from spending too much money at the toy store last night.

I am grateful for a beautiful hawk that decided to grace us with its presence this morning, just outside the windows of a coworker’s office. Our coworker even watched it grab a mouse and swallow it whole. At one point, for about ten minutes, the hawk was closer than the picture shows – if there hadn’t been a window, we could have bent down and touched it. What a magnificent creature…

I am grateful for letters from a soldier nephew. What an incredible treat.

And I am grateful for Sara today. It is her birthday, and I am grateful to know this young woman who is beginning a new adventure soon and learning so many life lessons. She is beautiful and talented and brimming with potential, and I am grateful to sit on the sidelines and watch her grow.

Love means to love that which is unlovable, or it is no virtue at all; forgiving means to pardon that which is unpardonable, or it is no virtue at all – and to hope means hoping when things are hopeless, or it is no virtue at all. – G.K. Chesterton

This morning as I sit here at the island in the quiet of the morning, the sound of the washing machine churning and spinning is the music of the moment. I just read my devotions, and the one in Dad’s book was about the word, “reverence.” I don’t hear that term used these days, and that was the focus of the lesson – the loss of reverence in our world, in our spiritual journey.

I Timothy 2:2 says, “I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.”

And immediately after reading that passage, I was taken back to the days when my parents and my church, The Friends Church, lived out “peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.” Walking in to the sanctuary was a reverent experience, because it was not a social gathering place, but a place to meet the Creator of the world, the Alpha and the Omega, Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. It was expected that when you entered the place of worship, you were quiet and reverent, anticipating His Presence, beginning the act of worship.

One of my fondest memories of childhood is seeing the small adult choir enter from the side of the sanctuary in silence, and then listen to them sing as my Mom directed, “The Lord is In His Holy Temple,” taken from Habakkuk 2:20. They did this every Sunday. It was the way we entered into worship:

The Lord is In His Holy Temple

The Lord is in His holy temple, the Lord is in His holy temple,
Let all the earth keep silent, let all the earth keep silent, before Him.
Keep silent, keep silent, before Him.

The weekend begins today. I am grateful for this lesson to begin my day, a lesson to remind me to be still and know that He is God, a lesson to bring me to reverence and holiness in the quiet of the morning, a lesson to keep the TV off, refrain from turning the radio on in the car, and enjoy the peacefulness and the quiet of His creation for just a little longer, listening for that still, small voice. Reverence…

And the squirrel saga continues.

We went for a walk at 10 pm last night, and making it another productive outing, we were busy solving the world’s problems while unwinding/de-stressing/exercising. All of a sudden, Sam grabbed my arm and stopped me from walking. “A skunk!” 

Yep, sure’s shootin’ that was a skunk. However, he was so busy searching for snacks, he paid no attention to us. Of course, my heart skipped a beat or seven, and then we continued on, watching every bush and flower bed with extra caution, finally ending up walking in the street just to be safe. 

End of story, right? Hardly. 

We began our day today like most other days: with an early morning walk. We laughed a little about our trepidation last night and were relieved to have morning light and an absence of nocturnal creatures. On our return to the house to begin the day, I glanced out at the patio and saw something move…in the live trap we had used for all those naughty squirrels. And what in the world. Pepé must have followed us home last night, because he had decided to rent-a-tent at the Scofield campground in the backyard. Aaaaaaaaaagh!!! 

The title of this post says it all, and if you need proof, you should take a whiff. 

This was as close as I cared to get, behind a closed door.

So,

I am grateful that Sam is my Call of the Wildman/Turtleman, my “Wooo-wooo-wooo, Live Action!,” my Billy the Exterminator. 

I am grateful that skunks are cute but not THAT cute.

I am grateful for silly situations that make life interesting.

I am grateful that Sam didn’t get sprayed, because he might not have enjoyed sleeping outside for the next several days.

~~~~~

I am grateful for this lesson today from The Beatitudes. I love a new blog I am now following, The Accidental Missionary, written by Scott Dannemiller. This post is worth a few minutes of your time, and so easy to read:

The One Thing Christians Should Stop Saying

I was on the phone with a good friend the other day.  After covering important topics, like disparaging each other’s mothers and retelling semi-factual tales from our college days, our conversation turned to the mundane.

“So, how’s work going?” he asked.

For those of you who don’t know, I make money by teaching leadership skills and helping people learn to get along in corporate America.  My wife says it’s all a clever disguise so I can get up in front of large groups and tell stories.

I plead the fifth.

I answered my buddy’s question with,

“Definitely feeling blessed.  Last year was the best year yet for my business.  And it looks like this year will be just as busy.”

The words rolled off my tongue without a second thought.  Like reciting the Pledge of Allegiance or placing my usual lunch order at McDonald’s.

But it was a lie.

Now, before you start taking up a collection for the “Feed the Dannemillers” fund, allow me to explain.  Based on last year’s quest to go twelve months without buying anything, you may have the impression that our family is subsisting on Ramen noodles and free chips and salsa at the local Mexican restaurant.  Not to worry, we are not in dire straits.

Last year was the best year yet for my business.

Things are looking busy in 2014.

But that is not a blessing.

I’ve noticed a trend among Christians, myself included, and it troubles me. Our rote response to material windfalls is to call ourselves blessed.  Like the “amen” at the end of a prayer.

     “This new car is such a blessing.”

     “Finally closed on the house.  Feeling blessed.”

     “Just got back from a mission trip.  Realizing how blessed we are here in this country.”

On the surface, the phrase seems harmless.  Faithful even.  Why wouldn’t I want to give God the glory for everything I have?  Isn’t that the right thing to do?

As I reflected on my “feeling blessed” comment, two thoughts came to mind.  I realize I’m splitting hairs here, creating an argument over semantics.  But bear with me, because I believe it is critically important.  It’s one of those things we can’t see because it’s so culturally engrained that it has become normal.

But it has to stop.  And here’s why.

First, when I say that my material fortune is the result of God’s blessing, it reduces The Almighty to some sort of sky-bound, wish-granting fairy who spends his days randomly bestowing cars and cash upon his followers.  I can’t help but draw parallels to how I handed out M&M’s to my own kids when they followed my directions and chose to poop in the toilet rather than in their pants.  Sure, God wants us to continually seek His will, and it’s for our own good.  But positive reinforcement?

God is not a behavioral psychologist.

Second, and more importantly, calling myself blessed because of material good fortune is just plain wrong.  For starters, it can be offensive to the hundreds of millions of Christians in the world who live on less than $10 per day.  You read that right.  Hundreds of millions who receive a single-digit dollar “blessing” per day.

During our year in Guatemala, Gabby and I witnessed first-hand the damage done by the theology of prosperity, where faithful people scraping by to feed their families were simply told they must not be faithful enough.  If they were, God would pull them out of their nightmare.  Just try harder, and God will show favor.

The problem?  Nowhere in scripture are we promised worldly ease in return for our pledge of faith.  In fact, the most devout saints from the Bible usually died penniless, receiving a one-way ticket to prison or death by torture.

I’ll take door number three, please.

If we’re looking for the definition of blessing, Jesus spells it out clearly.

     Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to Him, 2and He began to teach
them, saying:

     3 Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

     4 Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

     5 Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

     6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.

     7 Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.

     8 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

     9 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God.

    10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

     11 Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12 Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. (Matt 5: 1-12)

I have a sneaking suspicion verses 12a 12b and 12c were omitted from the text.  That’s where the disciples responded by saying,

     12a Waitest thou for one second , Lord.  What about “blessed art thou comfortable”, or  12b “blessed art thou which havest good jobs, a modest house in the suburbs, and a yearly vacation to the Florida Gulf Coast?”

     12c And Jesus said unto them, “Apologies, my brothers, but those did not maketh the cut.”

So there it is.  Written in red.  Plain as day.  Even still, we ignore it all when we hijack the word “blessed” to make it fit neatly into our modern American ideals, creating a cosmic lottery where every sincere prayer buys us another scratch-off ticket.   In the process, we stand the risk of alienating those we are hoping to bring to the faith.

And we have to stop playing that game.

The truth is, I have no idea why I was born where I was or why I have the opportunity I have.  It’s beyond comprehension.  But I certainly don’t believe God has chosen me above others because of the veracity of my prayers or the depth of my faith. Still, if I take advantage of the opportunities set before me, a comfortable life may come my way.  It’s not guaranteed.  But if it does happen, I don’t believe Jesus will call me blessed.

He will call me “burdened.”

He will ask,

“What will you do with it?”

“Will you use it for yourself?”

“Will you use it to help?”

“Will you hold it close for comfort?”

“Will you share it?”

So many hard choices.  So few easy answers.

So my prayer today is that I understand my true blessing.  It’s not my house. Or my job.  Or my standard of living.

My blessing is this.  I know a God who gives hope to the hopeless.  I know a God who loves the unlovable.  I know a God who comforts the sorrowful.  And I know a God who has planted this same power within me.  Within all of us.

And for this blessing, may our response always be,

“Use me.”

Writers note:  Since I had this conversation, my new response is simply, “I’m grateful.”  

So, I am grateful that God has allowed me to experience this life in this way, grateful that I serve a God who created us all uniquely different but so much alike, and grateful that He places people and their wisdom in my life at just the right time in order to teach me something new or remind me of what I already know. My response to His blessing on my life?

I’m grateful, please use me.

I’m pretty sure she isn’t talking about being still by sitting in front of the TV, however… Sitting on the patio or on the porch to enjoy what God has created or at the table while looking out the window, yes. Listening to the quiet, watching a loved one sleep…ahhhhhhhhhh. 

I am grateful that I was chosen as one of 250 bloggers to receive a free copy of Jen Hatmaker’s book “Interrupted” and am so anxious to begin reading it! I’m gonna meet that girl someday.

I am grateful for whipped cream that is the perfect topping for almost anything sweet.

I am grateful that Sam is not a couch potato. How funny is that term.

I am grateful for Grace. She volunteers at Bingo now, and she allows me to sit and play Bingo rather than do all of the calling…and I like playing and sitting at the table with Avis and Beulah. How rare is it that a teenage girl volunteers every week for an hour at an assisted living facility, just because? Pretty cool.

I am grateful that we will celebrate a birthday this evening with a very special young lady, and I might even get to enjoy that cinnamon bread pudding again!

I am grateful for the anticipation of our trip on the bike to Oklahoma on Friday and then on to Fort Worth on Saturday morning to attend the birthday party for the cutest 3-year-old in Texas.

I am grateful for my hearing, impaired as it is. I am grateful that I didn’t lose it completely when I was 15.

I am grateful for a steady paycheck.

I am grateful for padded envelopes.

I am grateful that I have learned to enjoy moments, that I no longer fill every moment of the day with busy-ness, that I have learned to say “no” to many things so that my “yes” will make more of an impact, that I have learned to slow down and be still in order to listen to God, that my days include quiet and calm and reflection…

I am grateful for a beautiful little notecard from Delores that made me laugh out loud. 

And I am grateful for a good first experience in court as a CASA, for some pretty incredible people who are rallying around “Cari” and support this beautiful young girl, and for CASA supervisors who are so skilled and caring and hold my hand as I begin this new journey.

I am grateful for a radio in the car, because this is how I started the drive. I highly recommend you listen and start your day (or end it) by saying “Thank You.”

Good to be Alive – Jason Gray

I am grateful for the cool front on July 15.

I am grateful for happy birds, for sunshine on my shoulders, for brown sugar on oatmeal, for the symphony of locusts or frogs or whatever those creatures were last night that were singing praises in the night air.

I am grateful for long walks and good conversation.

I am grateful for a boss that shares his heart with me.

I am grateful for another day to make a difference to someone.

I am grateful for Zak’s pictures of their trip to Crater Lake.

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see. The longer I live, the more my mind dwells upon the beauty and the wonder of the world. – John Burroughs

It’s good to be alive.

Begin your week by watching or listening to this song, a new favorite of mine. Broaden your experience and appreciate a different genre of music for a change:

Joy – Rend Collective

“Seriousness is not a fruit of the Spirit — Joy is.” 

Today, I am grateful:

For ladybugs

For popsicle drips on the kitchen floor, evidence of children in our home

For a deep down joy

For burnt hotdogs

For laughter

For laundry all done

For Olive Garden salad dressing

For a hug from my Dad – there is almost nothing better in this world

For ironing all done

For a long bike ride, the wind in my face, the peaceful solitude and feelings of safety and security

For sitting at breakfast with my family on a Sunday morning – ahhhh.

For a lovely lady named Louene who turned 99 on Saturday

For a relaxing afternoon: Royals on TV, Dad on the couch, visiting with Marlene and Sara

For a husband who does laundry and unloads the dishwasher and makes beds and sets out bagels and fruit in the early morning for company

For watermelon balls

For reminders to pray for Munfordville, Adrian, and Magnolia

For a beautiful sister who spent the day at the ballpark instead of at the office

For a sack of cucumbers and gift cards, a thank you from the neighbors for Sam’s help

For the sound of rain and thunder during church

For a nephew who smiles

For a Sunday afternoon nap

For “Love Does” books on clearance

For a box of costume jewelry leftover from the church rummage sale, just for my Bingo ladies

For my middle name

For seeing John and Rachel

That I am not condemned, I am FREE!!

For the tickle in my tummy when swinging on a swing, when walking across a really high bridge, when just a few miles away from seeing my daughters and grandchildren

And for this devotion that my Dad tore out of his book just to give to me:

Newspapers recently told of a woman in China who has lived with a thermometer inside her lung for 44 years. Apparently, she accidentally swallowed it during a routine checkup when she was twelve years old, but her family couldn’t afford the surgery to remove it. Now doctors are planning to remove it before it breaks and leaks mercury into her body.

We all have an internal thermometer that measures our emotional health, and that thermometer is gratitude. You can tell how happy someone is by noticing whether they grumble or give thanks, whatever the circumstances. In Acts 27, the apostle Paul was drenched to the skin, reeling from a vicious storm, and trapped on a sinking ship. But he found something for which to thank the Lord, and he led his 276 fellow passengers in thanksgiving. The ability to be thankful in any given set of circumstances is an indication of the health of our souls.

“In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”  I Thessalonians 5:18

A local radio station designates one hour on Friday afternoons to what they call “Festivus Friday.” Festivus is borrowed from a Seinfeld episode about George’s Dad celebrating the holiday of Festivus, the airing of grievances. So, on Friday afternoons for one hour, people can call in to the show and air a grievance, a complaint. I shall take the liberty of airing several today:

The Royals. 16-4, on the losing end. And we bought tickets for this circus tomorrow night?!

Humidity that saps energy and laughs in the face of hairspray.

Guests who show a lack of respect for keeping the home in which they are visiting clean, leaving lights on and doors unlocked, and deposit their belongings in every room.

Young people, and by that, I mean anyone younger than 50, who lack the skills and desire to hand write a personal note.

Reaching the end of the aluminum foil roll before I’m finished needing aluminum foil.

That look that is given to show displeasure when I didn’t even do anything wrong!

Young people, and by that, I mean anyone younger than 60, who were taught or should have been taught to send a handwritten “thank you” and don’t.

Now, to counter my grievances and turn them into blessings:

I am so grateful that we didn’t buy tickets for Thursday night’s game, but the score doesn’t matter when I am so privileged that I will spend four hours at Kauffman Stadium with my husband, my Dad, my brother, my sister-in-law, and one of my nephews tomorrow evening and Sunday afternoon.

I am so grateful for a ceiling fan to sleep under, an office that is fully AC’d, hair that is long enough now to pull back into a ponytail, and cool days to come.

I am so grateful that guests WANT to come and stay in our home and feel comfortable enough to make themselves comfortable. Besides, guests are just one more reason to use my handy-dandy awesome mixer and bake things.

I am grateful for the huge surprise in an enormous stack of junk mail when I happen to spy a hand-addressed envelope that holds sweetness in the form of words.

I am grateful for the little bit of aluminum foil I had for the breakfast tacos that are inside the sheets of foil that kept said tacos so warm and soft.

I am grateful for the new-found wisdom I have gained over the past three years that my facial expressions leave a lasting impression and can make or break someone’s day, and I need to be ever-so-vigilant in showing on the outside the joy that I feel on the inside.

I am grateful for the lesson I am still learning that even though I sometimes don’t receive a thank you note or even verbal thanks when I give out of love, if I expect it in return, I didn’t give for the right reason.  It’s kind of the Matthew 6:1-6 lesson that Mom always tried to teach me…

And finally, for genuine gratefuls not attached to grievances:

I am grateful that today is Dwight’s birthday and I get to think about him all day long. Like I say every Tuesday night: “Best number in the world, B-11. B-1-1.” Why? Because it’s my birthdate, my daughter’s birthdate, my brother’s birthdate, and it’s double #1. Happy birthday, Dwight Dean.

I am grateful for waves of sadness of missing Mom. I love those moments, because I love thinking about Mom and feeling like she is still here. Those moments when something happens and I immediately think, “I have to call Mom and tell her!” and then realize I can’t, and then want to hear her voice one more time, and think about her laugh and her prayers and her collection of miniatures that she always had in common with her best friend and her big purses and her fuzzy slippers and her giggles and her Sunday School lessons and her collection of trash/recycled materials for Children’s Church, and her canned pears on lettuce with a dollop of Miracle Whip (yucky poo) and her hugs and her refrigerator that was LO-OH-OH-OH-DED with grandchildren and great-grandchildren pictures and the way she corrected my mistake when I played a hymn for her just before she went to Heaven…it’s one of those days.

I am grateful for Ephesians 4:32

I am grateful that Sam didn’t grumble too loud when I donated our garage sale items to the church rummage sale and took more than I was supposed to take…

I am grateful for a daughter who is so creative and loves Chick-Fil-A and dresses everyone up like cows just for free chicken. What a mom:

And I am grateful for the smells of a new car, baby lotion on a baby, men’s cologne on a man and not a boy, bacon, fresh-baked bread, fresh asphalt, wafts of dryer sheets floating down the street, ginormous poster markers, Zum soap displays at the grocery store (particularly sandalwood citrus), fresh sawdust/cut wood, and puppy paws. 

I can still hear that song from my childhood…may I spend the rest of my moments being humbly grateful, not grumbly hateful.

I’ll quit being grateful for Delores snail mail letters that make my whole day…

I’ll quit being grateful for little boys who say in their toddler manhood, “Thas’ whut I’m talkin’ ‘bout!”…

I’ll quit being grateful for memories of performing “This little piggy went to market” on my high school daughters’ toes first thing in the morning when it was time to wake up, or last week in the van with the three most beautiful grandchildren in Texas…

I’ll quit being grateful for tart apples, starbursts, sweet tarts…

 I’ll quit being grateful for the summertime pleasure of a hot dog paired with a baseball game…

I’ll quit being grateful for moments of working with Sam in the kitchen to get ready for company…

…when fingernails fly.

Not on MY watch, chickadees.

I sent my nephew a card this morning, and I included a few gratefuls, because after a card-a-day to a soldier from his aunt, the aunt runs out of things to tell him. My last grateful was for people who cut their fingernails in the privacy of the bathroom, (because I KNOW he doesn’t read my daily gratefuls, so it was a new one to him), and I reminded him of the times Grandma would cut hers in the car, no matter how short the trip. We could be going two blocks away, but it was plenty of time to trim. And I would silently gag as the fingernails flew through the air. Oh, Mom. We do miss your quirkiness…  Anyway, that is the story behind the above format.

Moving on to something that matters to me:

Love is a gift you give someone for their benefit, not so that they will love, respect, accept you back in return. Codependency is doing good deeds to fill our own emotional needs. The love Jesus described requires that we review the motivations behind our act. One way we can review our motivations is by noticing if any bitterness creeps in when the other person fails to respond the way we wanted.

 Love is an action. Jesus did not say, “Go and feel warm feelings about thy neighbor and about God.” The love Jesus described requires that we “do.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about these quotes from Steven Blair today, because I’ve also been thinking about my tendency to turtle. It’s comfortable for me to put my head down and shut out the world. It’s difficult (I know some of you will find this hard to believe) for me to actively communicate. I want the world to come to ME. I want strangers to be friendly to ME. I want macaroni and cheese and Mexican food and ice cream sandwiches and Cheezits and peanut butter M&M’s and a bag of chips for every meal, too, but that ain’t happenin’.

In order to have friends, I have to BE a friend. In order to make the world a better place everywhere I go, I must DO love. I must communicate. I must stick my wrinkly neck out of my invisible shell and speak first. Communication. What a concept.  Start a conversation with a waiter, or a store clerk, or the high school checker or bagger at the grocery store, leave cookies and a nice note on top of the dumpster for the trash guys, say hello to the “turtle” neighbor taking their dog for a walk, or better yet, meet them at the sidewalk and invite them over for dessert some evening.  Inquire. Inspire. Perspire. Retire. Ha. I just amused myself.

Finally, I am grateful for the way the Holy Spirit challenges and teaches little concepts like this. I am grateful that I have begun to recognize these moments of connection. Moments of doing love that don’t take any more time out of a day but can be the beginning of something pretty cool. And besides that, my neck gets cramped and can use some stretching.

Beautiful pictures of happy children playing

I am grateful for dental floss, especially when used in the privacy of a bathroom.

I am grateful for Charles Schulz.

I am grateful for the smell of rubber cement and libraries and beauty salons and Karissa’s room spray and her liquid soap that smells like peppermint and vanilla.

I am grateful for monkeys. The animals AND the humans – they all make me laugh.

I am grateful for Louene’s attitude – she is my 99 year old Bingo friend. She lost her only child a few years ago, has lived in assisted living for several years now, and still finds a reason to smile and enjoy life. As she shared with me last night, how else is she going to spend her time? There is ALWAYS some reason to smile and enjoy the present.

I am grateful for how easily a band-aid fixes the world’s problems when you are a child.

I am grateful for podiatrists and the absence of ingrown toenails. Thank you, Dr. Coleman, for those procedures 33 years ago. So worth the agony of shots in the toe. I am grateful for my Dad who went with me and let me squeeze his hand till it turned blue.

I am grateful for cute underwear for children – my biggest thrill was to have plain but pretty pastel undies with a little lacey elastic at the top. Now, my granddaughters proudly wear Hello Kitty and Frozen, and my grandson wears Spiderman and sports. How lucky can you get these days.

I am grateful that my two oldest Texas grandchildren, ages 4 and 2, learned their address this past weekend and Mommy is keeping up their practice of saying it! (If you want to see the video of them saying/singing/dancing it, email me – I don’t want to post their address on here for the world to see. They are ADORABLE if I say so myself…)

I am grateful for the Royals tickets I finally ordered for Saturday.

I am grateful for the simple pleasure of a bubblegum machine.

I am grateful for memories of ironing handkerchiefs and pillowcases as a little girl.

I am grateful that I do not have to go down the tallest waterslide now open in KC.

I remember being forced to go down a free-fall slide at White Water Bay in Oklahoma City during a back-to-school party for CBA, and I seriously thought I was going to die. On the other hand, Schlitterbahn in New Braunfels is probably the best park ever in the history of the world as long as you don’t lose your small child when exiting the water. (gulp)

That makes me grateful for Mom who was so extremely brave to go to a water park in Branson with me and my girls when they were young. She rode those rides and if she was afraid, she didn’t let on. Oh, what a wonderful memory…

And finally, I am grateful for my devotion in Dad’s book today, because it planted some songs in my heart to make my day even more pleasant:

Do not fear or be discouraged. Deuteronomy 1:21b

 Many of our favorite hymns tell us what to do when discouraged. One old standby by Johnson Oatman advises: “When you are discouraged thinking all is lost, count your many blessings, name them one by one.”

 Another asks, “Why should I be discouraged, why should the shadows come?” We should rather remember that “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”

 The beloved hymn, “What a Friend we have in Jesus,” gives us sound advice in saying we should “never be discouraged” over a burden, for we can “take it to the Lord in prayer.”

 The spiritual, “There is a balm in Gilead” says: “Sometimes I feel discouraged, and think my work’s in vain, and then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.”

So if you’re discouraged today, remember that a moment in the presence of our Lord can change your attitude. Count your blessings. Realize you’re more valuable than the sparrows. Take it to the Lord in prayer, and let the Holy Spirit revive your soul again.