We have a mouse.

If you know me, you know this is not good. In fact, this is cause for a hotel. Or a week or so sprawled out/folded in half in the back seat of the car. Meece and I are not friends. They paralyze me and cause me to stand on the highest point possible. They cause my eyes to flit around the room looking for any sign of movement. Every speck of anything that I see on the floor, on the counters, on the table, on the piano, on the fireplace, on the carpet, has been left by the little gray demon, I’m certain.

Why, oh, why have creatures decided that our house is the right house? I feel like I need to don a hazmat suit and carry a flame thrower in order to inhabit my own space.

I am grateful for cartoon mice, but not so much the one in the house, because it.is.not.a.cartoon.

I am grateful for cats and would love to borrow approximately 14 of them for a couple of days.

And I am grateful for Sam, aka Sylvester, who will have the responsibility of catching Speedy Gonzales TONIGHT, I say.

My piggy bank of gratitude is overflowing today, as are two jars that were in a box last night waiting to be retrieved from the mailbox.

Yesterday started out pretty melancholy, and I allowed myself the sadness to miss my daughter on our birthday. But in the middle of the day, Sam’s plan to shower love began to unfold, and he and his daughter set up the kitchen in preparation for a room full of noise and laughter and love from small group friends and co-worker friends and friend friends and family friends. My dreary happy day exploded into a joyful, lively happy day. This ½ century old woman felt such love…

To top it off, we were still able to meet with our small group friends for dinner and discuss our chapters. But before that happened, 50 bucks was able to speak to my two girls on the phone, and when Karissa asked me if I had received my box in the mail, we hadn’t checked the mail in a couple of days, and she insisted that I get my mail NOW.

When Sam brought the box inside and I opened it, the tears began to flow.

There was no way I could open those jars before small group dinner, so I left them on the counter for the ending to my day…

We came back home, and I brought the jars to the table. In the quiet of the night, Sam sat next to me and read each slip of paper in each of the jars from my girls. Both had taken the time to each list 50 memories and reasons that they love their Mom. As he read, I cried. I laughed. I reflected. I shared the story that went behind that one. And that one. And that one. I was so touched that my daughters would put so much into a gift for me. My bursting heart hurts with love for these two girls who have been the source of strength for over a quarter century of my life, who have been life and reason to sing and the source of my pride and my joy.

I am grateful for beautiful roses.

I am grateful for the prettiest cake ever.

I am grateful for a noisy kitchen with love.

I am grateful for birthday wishes from my brothers, all three.

I am grateful for a birthday hug from my Dad.

I am grateful for a ringing phone that shows “Katrina” and “Karissa.”

I am grateful for a voicemail after church from four grandchildren singing to me.

I am grateful for my sister and niece who took the time to get 50 silly gifts – it’s fun to give a silly gift, but it’s just as fun to receive one, too.

I am grateful for my stepdaughter who spent the afternoon with us.

I am grateful for co-worker friends, small group friends, friend friends and family friends who took two hours out of their weekend to celebrate my oldness and do love.

I am grateful that it didn’t matter the chips and cereal boxes on top of the cabinet, didn’t matter the ugly plants in the window in dire need of trimming, didn’t matter the dust on the end tables, didn’t matter the stack of papers and books not put away, didn’t matter the water spots on the faucet.

I am grateful for my husband who planned a surprise for me and spent his whole day making sure I felt special and loved.

I am grateful for my daughters and the love they shared in little slips of paper that will be the source of much happiness, laughter, tears, and reflection in the coming years. A forever gift.

Piggy bank of gratitude is overflowing, and 50 is rich.

Karissa Beth.

31 years ago today, I woke up in the middle of the night, knowing that it was time. We were at Mom and Dad’s for the weekend to celebrate my birthday, six more weeks of pregnancy to go. And it was the scariest, best birthday ever. The small town hospital could not handle a six week premature delivery, and so my yet-to-be-born daughter and I were transported to Wichita. When I saw my baby girl for the first time that afternoon, I fell so in love with her. She was so tiny at 4 pounds, 8 ounces. She was like a little doll, so fragile and perfect. And from that moment on, my heart hurt and swelled as only a parent’s heart can.

Over the years, it was my joy to celebrate her birthday, a miracle that came around every 11th day of January. It was my joy to plan her parties, to make a big deal of birthdays, because birthdays should be a big deal. Life is to be celebrated, and those precious to us should know how special they really are, at least once a year.

My little doll, my tiny Karissa Beth, is now a grown woman, a mother of four with another child growing inside. I do not have the opportunity to see my daughters on their birthdays any longer, these days that are milestones in this Mama bursting heart. Sometimes this day is tough, and one that I would like to spend all curled up fetal under covers until the sun rises on the 12th and all is past. I allow myself the space to hurt on this day, and I will not apologize. It’s my day, too, after all. How’s that song go? It’s my party, I can cry if I want to…

So, the day started with another dozen roses, white this time, when I walked into the kitchen, and two “Happy Birthdays,” and then church and a great message. Music from Resurrection Singers that cut through the pain to the core and allowed me to smile through. My hand held by the man who loves me. This man, who surprises me with flowers and tells me many times a day that he loves me. My Dad sitting next to him. My Dad, preparing to begin another chapter of his own life in the next month or two, and I will be the privileged one to be a small part. Psalm 121 on the screen, a reminder of the music my daughters sang at Mom’s memorial service. ” I will lift up mine eyes to the hills from whence cometh my help, my help cometh from the Lord…” That tap on the heart to remind me that there is so much to be grateful for, even in the pain. Through it all, it IS well. Through it all, I AM grateful for all that has been, all that is, all that will be.

I am grateful for this life that has been. And I am grateful for the life I now live. And I will continue to be grateful for whatever comes next, whether this is the second half or the last third, or tomorrow never comes. It IS well with my soul. Happy birthday, sweet girl of mine. I hope your day is filled with people who show you how special and loved you are. Thank you for being the best birthday present I ever received.

Far be it from me to not believe
Even when my eyes can’t see
And this mountain that’s in front of me
Will be thrown into the midst of the sea
So let go my soul and trust in Him
The waves and wind still know His name
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul

Like, it’s a great idea to clean the house at varying times of the day, because when the sun shines through the windows in the morning, holy cow you see a world of dirt and cobwebs you missed by cleaning in the afternoon. I think from now on, guests may only be allowed in this home at night or when it is a dreary snowy rainy day or the power is out.

Like, even when you’re $49.99 and railed against your former students when they said “like” 42 times in a sentence, you’re not too old to say “like” at the beginning of a sentence.

Like, you can’t judge a book by its cover. Why oh why can I not seem to learn this lesson? This morning, two guys showed up at the front door to lay carpet in Dad’s bedroom, and I immediately felt like I needed to have a can of mace nearby. They are the nicest guys and so respectful… Seriously, Rhonda?! Must read “12 Steps for the Recovering Pharisee” again…

Like, what is it going to hurt to ask? If you expect a “no thanks,” the “yes” is that much more fun!

Like, walking into the kitchen on a Saturday morning to find a dozen pink roses is pretty much one of the best beginnings to a day there is.

Like, burning a good candle and listening to beautiful classical music is a tiny slice of heaven.

Like, Craigslist posted cabinets are so much better than brand new that were going to cost so much more.

So, I am grateful today for a vacuum that works, for friends who couldn’t care less if the floor is dirty and tiny spiders have decided we have a pretty nice home.

I am grateful for natural light that makes me realize I should clean a little more often.

I am grateful for the reminder of all of my former middle school and high school girls who rolled their eyes at me when I counted with my fingers held high in their face all of the “likes” they subjected me to. I love them all…

I am grateful for Jason and John, two really cool guys who made Dad’s new room look so welcoming.

I am grateful for John, because all I had to do was ask if he wanted that tv, and he said, “Yes!”

I am grateful for Sam, because he had such a busy morning but took the time to go and get pink roses, just for me.

I am grateful for really nice candles and home stereo in the ceiling to listen to beautiful music while I vacuumed.

I am grateful for a garage full of someone else’s cabinets that are now ours to install for Dad’s kitchen.

I am grateful for a phone call, card, and present from Steve.

And I am grateful for HD tv.

There are so many things in life for which to be thankful and appreciate. I have reached a place in my life where I can look at who I’ve become and smile. I have been far, far, far from perfect, and yet God has blessed me in spite of my failure.

I am grateful that I have learned to count the little things that are blessings:

1. Fresh baked bread
2. Tire swings
3. The ability to pull from memory the sound of my two girls’ laughter
4. A grandchild’s drawings tucked inside my purse
5. Silliness with my husband about one gang, two gang, three gang, four gang…(electrical boxes, for those of you who thought I was talking crips and bloods – I was in your camp a few days ago, but now I am electrically educated)
6. January sunrises and sunsets, the most beautiful, take-my-breath-away sights
7. Sweet memories and the fading of unpleasant ones
8. Lacey’s engagement pictures that made me cry this morning
9. The sound of silence
10. Hearing my Dad’s laughter
11. Living close enough to watch my niece play basketball
12. Funny pictures of grandchildren that I have access to again
13. Candlelight
14. The crackle of a fire on a cold night
15. Crawling into a cold bed but waking up in a warm one
16. Sitting in the car in the parking lot for a few extra minutes just to enjoy the squirrel antics
17. A kind butcher in the meat department and grocery clerk, both of whom recognize me
18. The kindness of a friend and her intuition that she just needed to send an email to lift my spirits
19. The beauty of sunlight through crystal
20. Simple pleasures of listening to doctors and scientists who have awesome accents on the other end of the phone
21. The first smell after a match is lit
22. Dennis
23. And the happiness sound of an empty wrapping paper roll or paper towel roll bonking on someone’s head

½ a century down. Next section in this book of life begins. I love to tell the story…of God’s grace and favor that covers me.

I am grateful for the smell of new carpet.

I am grateful for clean hands.

I am grateful for the FEW fast food and restaurant employees who know how to hand a cup or glass to a customer – FINGERS OUT OF THE INSIDE AND NEVER CLOSE TO THE RIM. Please managers, TEACH YOUR EMPLOYEES TO DO IT THE RIGHT WAY.

This raises my blood pressure.

Which makes me grateful for Marty, my boss at Ken’s Pizza when I was 16 years old, because he taught me on day one proper waitress/server etiquette.

Which also makes me grateful for memories of my daughter’s science project about bacteria in human mouths vs. bacteria in animal’s mouths. The dog was so much cleaner/more clean/cleanified.

Which makes me grateful for strong mouthwash.

Which makes me grateful for fresh breath.

Which makes me grateful for Wrigley’s Doublemint gum. NOT Juicyfruit. I am not grateful for Juicyfruit. Just saying the name brings back the headache.

And…moving on.

I am grateful for shiny new pans that cook basmati rice TO PERFECTION.

I am grateful for hairspray.

I am grateful for hot water heaters that allow me warm water.

I am grateful for Aunt Patsy’s permission to use the white towels.

I am grateful for the sound of popcorn popping.

I am grateful for fingerprints on the counter and Transformers left upstairs, evidence of little ones.

I am grateful for a dumpster with wheels.

I am grateful for foot pain, because it is a reminder that I should be grateful that I can walk at all.

And I am grateful that my Dad will be arriving for the weekend in about an hour or so.

I am grateful for memories of singing “Ohhhhhhhhh…the fruit of the Spirit’s not a coconut (knock knock)” with my elementary students.

I am grateful for that song, because it taught me the fruits of the Spirit and I’ve never forgotten them since. Not lived up to them, many times, but I haven’t forgotten them ever.

“Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-contro-oh-ol!”

I am grateful for other songs from my teaching years that taught me lists, like the 50 states that I can still recite today, in alphabetical order, thank you very much.

Okay, maybe that’s the only other song with a list.

If only there had been a college algebra song…

I am grateful for The Ellen Show. She makes me laugh and I think she is just a pretty cool person, at least from our friendship through the TV.

I am grateful for the burning candle on my desk. Yes, I’m breaking the building rule, but I’m not SAVING it. I’m enjoying it, using it, loving it.

I am grateful for a bathroom that isn’t too close but isn’t too far away from my desk, so that the 96 ounces of water I have consumed so far today do not make me completely miserable. Besides, I’m getting my exercise. Who needs one of those new FitBit thingy-ma-bobs when all you need is some water in the bladder.

I am grateful for good worship music and hymns that occupy my brain space throughout the day. So grateful it’s not, “Fifty nifty, United States from 13 original colonies…” Oh, crap. I spoke too soon.

I love this, from my new devotion book from Dad for today. The definitions are PERFECTION:

The fruits of the spirit consist of nine qualities that summarize the essence of Christ’s character that He wants to develop in His people by His Spirit. In other words, our personality traits should line up with Galatians 5:22-23 as we grow to be like Christ. So let’s talk definitions.

Love is the determination to meet the needs of someone else.

Joy is the ability to appreciate life.

Peace is the calmness and confidence of knowing God is always in control.

Longsuffering is the knack of putting up with people and circumstances.

Kindness is the practice of going out of our way to do nice things for people.

Goodness is the display of moral integrity.

Faithfulness is the habit of being utterly dependable.

Gentleness is the soft covering of strength.

Self-control is the capacity of doing what we don’t feel like, and not doing what we do feel like.

Do these attitudes describe you? Ask the Lord to make you His orchard and develop within you this fruit.

I am grateful for time with Grace and her grandma last night at Bingo.

I am grateful for my friend, 99 ½-year-old Louene.

I am grateful for a furnace and insulation.

I am grateful for a lack of knowledge when it comes to warm climates in January, because I could really be bitter about this cold weather if I knew what South Florida or Hawaii or Brazil felt like right now.

I am grateful for these green grapes that are like candy on this first day of going without.

I am grateful for old, bitter celery that I had to crunch on. It made me realize I need to go to the grocery store tonight.

I am grateful for funny friends.

I am grateful for a loose wedding ring that shows me the Christmas cookies are leaving the building.

I am grateful for the ability to blow my nose.

I am grateful for clean, pretty-smelling feet.

I am grateful for bread bowls and look forward to having another one in February.

I am grateful for my January birthday ladies in Corn, Oklahoma. Oh, how I miss them.

And I’m very grateful that I am learning the lesson and living the lesson of Matthew 6:14.

I am grateful for the lessons of the bottom drawer.

My Mom had a drawer at the bottom of her dresser that was for “the gifts.” Inside, she kept all of the fancy schmancy gifts that people gave to her throughout the year that were “too special” to use, gifts that would be perfect for someone else, “because,” as I remember her saying, “this is just too nice for me.” That drawer used to hurt my feelings, because every once in a while, she would ask me to retrieve something from it when she needed a present for a Christmas reunion or a friend’s birthday, and when I would open the drawer, there would be the pretty kitchen towel I had given to her, or the bottle of perfume, or the address book all crisp and new…

My Mom never gave herself enough worth. She used and re-used and went without, even when she had fine things. And the thing is, each one of those precious gifts in that drawer were messages to Mom that she was loved, she was thought of, she was worthy.

And I have learned her lesson. I have saved the beautiful white towels that Aunt Patsy gave to me three years ago, because they are special and I don’t want to ruin them. I have a candle under the sink that my Mom gave to me that I don’t want to burn, because I have half-used candles that need to be used up. I have a set of beautiful measuring spoons given to me by Michelle last year that I have never used because I might scratch them. I have a few nice clothes that hang unused, just in case there is a special occasion.

I’ve never understood the concept of buying beautiful handmade quilts just to store them away in a chest or closet, never to be used on a bed for warmth and beauty. What is the point of that? Or having a nice vehicle that sits inside a garage never to be driven. Am I crazy or is that crazy?

This past weekend, I was sitting on the couch in Dad’s apartment. On top of the bookshelf was the stack of mixed nut containers still wrapped in cellophane tied with a bow that we gave to him for Christmas a year ago. He learned the lesson too.

My father-in-law has a closet full of new shirts, new shoes, new socks, new jackets. He saves them and wears the old. And one of these days will be too late for him to enjoy these gifts, too late for him to look all fancy schmancy.

You know how it goes. Use the old tools and save the new ones, drive the jalopy and save the miles on the new car, wear the cheap jewelry and keep the expensive earrings for someday…

Sometimes we learn lessons that need to be unlearned. Sometimes we should learn lessons from those more experienced and then reverse the teaching. If someone has given us a gift, we should wear it, use it, display it, eat or drink it, ENJOY it, and be reminded that the gift was given to us because someone thought enough of us to give it.

Life is too short to save the nice things for someday. Life is too short to live unworthy. Life is too short to save the gift cards. Life is too short to hold on to forgiveness.

Encouragement is awesome. It has the capacity to lift a man’s or woman’s shoulders… To breathe fresh fire into the fading embers of a smoldering dream. To actually change the course of another human being’s day, week, or life. – Charles Swindoll

I am grateful today for Ann. When I was in the pit of despair with very little to my name, Ann gave me a gently used long-sleeved pink t-shirt that I still wear. She also gave me a bag of little hotel soaps and shampoos, because she knew. She just knew. She let me cry. She let me lean. She let me unload. And she didn’t pry or wallow with me or egg me on. She was just there to support. Then, when my Mom passed away, she gave me a little figurine of a cardinal sitting on the roof of a church, because she knew I would need it. And it still sits right here at my desk. I look at it every day and think of Ann and my Mom. The tip of the steeple is gone, but that doesn’t matter. It is a priceless little treasure. This morning, Ann posted this devotion that was so perfect. It made me think of something that happened yesterday…

Mistakes Made Beautiful
By Julie Ackerman Link

Early in his career, jazz player Herbie Hancock was invited to play in the quintet of Miles Davis, already a musical legend. In an interview, Hancock admitted being nervous but described it as a wonderful experience because Davis was so nurturing. During one performance, when Davis was near the high point of his solo, Hancock played the wrong chord. He was mortified, but Davis continued as if nothing had happened. “He played some notes that made my chord right,” Hancock said.

What an example of loving leadership! Davis didn’t scold Hancock or make him look foolish. He didn’t blame him for ruining the performance. He simply adjusted his plan and turned a potentially disastrous mistake into something beautiful.

What Davis did for Hancock, Jesus did for Peter. When Peter cut off the ear of one of the crowd who had come to arrest Jesus, Jesus reattached the ear (Luke 22:51), indicating that His kingdom was about healing, not hurting. Time after time Jesus used the disciples’ mistakes to show a better way.

What Jesus did for His disciples, He also does for us. And what He does for us, we can do for others. Instead of magnifying every mistake, we can turn them into beautiful acts of forgiveness, healing, and redemption.

Lord, You understand how prone we are to make selfish and foolish mistakes. Forgive us and
restore us. Please, for Your name’s sake, use even the worst aspects of our lives for Your glory.

Jesus longs to turn our mistakes into amazing examples of His grace.

Forgiveness happened yesterday. A page turned, a new beginning, and the possibility for a brighter future. Encouragement took place which can only lead to changing the course of the day, the week, and maybe even the lives of those I love. One phone call. One word of encouragement. One act of forgiveness that wasn’t saved for the bottom drawer.

For that, and for so much more, I am grateful.

Begin today! No matter how feeble the light, let it shine as best it may. The world may need just that quality of light which you have. – Henry C. Blinn

I am grateful for a new year that is full of potential, full of new adventures, full of days that are yet unwritten.

I am grateful for the past week that overflowed with activity and people we do not always get to see, a week where small but happy memories were made.

I am grateful for the blessing and “it’s finally happening” of my Dad’s retirement this past week. I am grateful that he will be able to work when he wants to, do what he wants to, and enjoy life as he wants to in the coming years, without feeling the pressure to go to work every day.

I am grateful for the friends and family members who stopped by the store to wish my Dad well on Friday.

I am grateful for the biggest surprise I think I have had in a very long time – a surprise visit from my daughter and her family. They walked into Dad’s apartment on Thursday evening and none of us had a clue. I am grateful for a daughter with a sentimental heart, a daughter who wanted to bless her extended family with her own family’s presence for two special occasions. And bless, she did.

I am grateful for a granddaughter who drew the prettiest butterfly at the kitchen table.

I am grateful for this granddaughter who wanted to sit by me, who wanted me to color with her while we waited on our food at the restaurant, who gave me the sweetest hug when we said goodbye.

I am grateful for the time in the backseat of the van to play Candy Crush with my only grandson.

I am grateful for a grandson who loves to sing.

I am grateful for grandchildren who compete for my attention…I think.

I am grateful for a little granddaughter who loves purses and bracelets and high heels and baby dolls.

I am grateful for the smallest granddaughter who giggles and holds her own quite well. She’s gonna have to hold her own with her three older siblings. Bulldoze or be bulldozed.

I am grateful for a husband who knew I wanted to put a puzzle together and sat at the table with me, putting the border together.

I am grateful for a husband who prays out loud.

I am grateful for a new devotional for this year. Thank you, Dad.

I am grateful for dainty flowers and a brother who appreciates them.

I am grateful for Michelle.

I am grateful for our small group – they’ve added so much to our lives already.

I am grateful for my daughter who loves to take pictures.

I am grateful for my cousin Valerie who values the importance of keeping the family together via reunions, even if the weather sounds threatening.

I am grateful for my church, and for the feeling of Mom’s presence in the service yesterday as we sang “How Firm A Foundation” and “I Know Whom I Have Believed.” I could hear her alto/tenor in every stanza.

I am grateful for the message yesterday, about the frequently spoken line, “Everything happens for a reason.”  One of my favorite parts of Adam’s message was this:

Suffering is not God’s desire for us, but it occurs in the process of life. Suffering is not given to teach us something, but through it we may learn. Suffering is not given to punish us, but sometimes it is the consequence of our sin or poor judgment. Suffering does not occur because our faith is weak, but through it our faith may be strengthened. God does not depend on human suffering to achieve his purposes, but sometimes through suffering His purposes are achieved. Suffering can either destroy us, or it can add meaning to our life. – Reverend Ray Firestone

And finally, today I am grateful to have sat in the middle of the backseat on Friday afternoon, grandchildren on each side, and watch my daughter and son-in-law hold hands up front as we traveled to Wichita.

I am blessed.