I am grateful for the many “coincidences” that keep happening that involve telling my story. Everything I read, I hear, I watch, seems to be pointing to the nudge that I need to write it all down.

I am grateful for cinnamon melts, cinnamon bears, cinnamon smells, cinnamon and sugar on toast, cinnamon gum, cinnamon in tea, cinnamon just about anything.

I am grateful for funny little boy stories that I never really knew about, because I never had little boys. And I am grateful that my daughter calls me on Sunday afternoons to tell me funny little boy stories that make me laugh down deep.

I am grateful for an introduction to quite the speaker/teacher yesterday at church. His name is Dr. Leonard Sweet. He spoke about the importance and significance of having a meal and conversation around the table, how prominent this practice was in the Bible, how prominent this practice was in Jesus’ life, and how this practice has become endangered in the life of family in the 21st century. His message is worth watching, again and again and again…

Bring Back the Table

I am also grateful to have heard the choir sing again.

I am grateful that the damage to the car on Saturday night, on our way back home in the foggy night outside of Strong City, was caused by a raccoon, or two of them, and not a deer, or a black Angus.

I am grateful for sore muscles and a little bruising, evidence of hard work. I am also grateful for Sam, because he loves some hard work and a monster project, and his heart for others is super-human huge.

I am also very grateful for Sam, because in the midst of this monster project, this is what he chose to save:

He rescued a little liriope plant in the 52 tons of dirt. How incredible is that…

I am grateful for a yardstick that WOULD have come in handy, had there BEEN one to use. Everyone needs a yardstick.

I am grateful that a Huffy bike will be delivered tonight and is another step in the healing and progress.

I am grateful for “redneck” accents and silly stories about ‘coon huntin’ with Buddy and Melissa, those good huntin’ dawgs…on a random roadtrip. Laughter makes the miles shorter.

I am grateful for time spent with my Ferguson family on Saturday.  For the time spent remembering my Aunt Ardeth and her quiet life. For the memories shared during her service. For the silliness of Aunt Doris commenting on the quiet nature of the Fergusons and how the “outlaws” are left to do the talking. For time to visit with Mike and Randy, my cousins I never really knew all that well. For another opportunity to see Aunt Drula, Aunt Ivol, Aunt Bulah and Uncle Francis, Uncle Willard and Aunt Doris, Uncle Floyd, my Dad…I love seeing my Dad. I love seeing them all. I love seeing my aunts and how they remind me so much of Grandmommy. Never take for granted time spent with family, because those times become fewer and farther between, until one day, they are just memories.

I am grateful for the sparkle of the paved street in the streetlight. It was beautiful in the pre-dawn darkness this morning.

I am grateful for Julie’s email that made me tear up. Her words about the simplicity of Quakers and her sincerity in learning just make me want to hug her and spend more time with her. I feel like I’ve found a life-long friend.

I am grateful for a sister who eats junk food with me on road trips.

I am grateful for time spent sitting in Michelle’s chair on Saturday, because she made me less frightening to look at, and because I got all caught up, mostly caught up, on life in the Johnson house.  I love that girl.

I am grateful for the sound of a young owl at 4:30 this morning, and I am grateful that the window was open so that I could hear him hooting.

But it’s almost over, and my hair looked good all day, thanks to my hair magician, Michelle! And for that, I am also grateful.