I am grateful for two blisters and some sore muscles that talk to me when I squeeze or grab.

I am grateful for therapeutic weeding. It had been too long. Of course it had. Weeding is not fun. Weeding is work. If it hadn’t been too long, it wouldn’t have been necessary.

But while I bent over and scraped the ground with the hoe, yanking the stubborn ones and carefully protecting the day lilies and renegade tomato plants, I was able to listen to the laughter coming from the pool next door and reminisce about my girls splashing and playing “sharks and minnows” at the pool when they were young. I was able to silently pray for Sharon and Brenda and Warren and Meredith, our New York and Pennsylvania pastors. I was able to release some hidden frustrations that had been weighing on my mind.

Weeding for me is like cleaning the shower. Not fun. It is the last thing I want to do. But when it doesn’t get done, it just gets worse. And this was close to worst. There was no longer any dirt space to be seen between the desired plants. Ugh.

I secretly hoped Sam or Dad would show up and offer to take over. They didn’t. I secretly wanted to “Round Up” the entire area instead of laboring with gardening tools. Who needs day lilies and tomato plants anyway? I secretly longed for an evening to just relax and enjoy instead of having to work and be productive.

Those thoughts and secrets could have ruined a perfectly nice evening. It was refreshing and cool for a June early evening. The lightning bugs were emerging from their darkness and blinking beauty across the yard. Even after so much rain, the mosquitoes had not yet arrived in droves and bug spray was not necessary. Natia was enjoying rolling in the grass and smelling the fresh air. And even though I was working, I was also being serenaded by laughter and fun next door.

I had to stop after a dozen repetitions – I am not used to physical labor these days. But stopping allowed me to regain momentum and continue on, just one more lily and then I’ll quit. Just one more surprise tomato plant previously hidden by the weeds and then I’ll quit. Just five more minutes and then I’ll quit. When that family goes home from the pool, I’ll be done, too…

In the end, it was two blisters and some tiny pebbles that found their way in between my feet and my shoes that caused me to say “enough for tonight.”

Therapeutic = Culling the unwanted, the unnecessary, the things that hinder new growth and beauty. It is usually hard work and sometimes comes with pain. But as long as culling is done with an appreciation for the opportunity and the “weeder” chooses to value the moment and the necessity, the blisters and sore muscles are worth it.

I sat in church on Sunday morning and struggled to grasp the message. Some messages are like that – hard for me to focus and relate. But towards the end of the sermon, Wendy said something that struck gold. It wasn’t scriptural, but it kinda was. It wasn’t earth-shattering wisdom, but it kinda was.  It has made me reflect this week, however, and that isn’t a bad thing.

“Tell me what you did in the last 24 hours and I’ll tell you who you are.”

I want to be the person who thinks positively. I want to be the person who finds the good in everyone and everything. I want to appreciate what I have rather than complain about what I have not. I want to be the person who is grateful about every. last. thing. and I want to be the person who is vocal about it.

I am grateful for a ceiling fan over the bed so that I can turn up the AC at night and save a little money and electricity but still be cool enough to sleep uninterrupted by muggy summer air.

I am grateful for sunlight that peeks through the slats in the window blinds to whisper “Good morning, it’s a new day.”

I am grateful that Natia does not expect to sleep in the bed but is content to sleep on her own bed on the floor.

I am grateful for the feel, look, and smell of a clean bathroom counter and sink.

I am grateful for a silly picture of Delores in a fireman’s suit that now hangs on the fridge.

I am grateful for the much-needed new tennis shoes that make my feet feel so much better when we walk.

I am grateful for the fun surprise that Delores and Larry and Sue left for Woody when they visited. Woody has two new friends who are yet to be named.

I am grateful for the book I am reading right now and for the soul sister/author who is allowing me to internally say, “ME TOO!” on every page.

I am grateful that my brother Steve arrived safely and is resting at Angela’s home.

I am grateful that my sister has a heart bigger than Dallas and is loving my brother by doing and being.

I am grateful that Jared took some of my books when he came to visit in November and grateful that he texted me yesterday to tell me they are his reading material as he works harvest in Cordell, Oklahoma this week.

I am grateful that two of my most favorite people in this world, Erin and Jared, thought of me while they were working harvest in Cordell, Oklahoma and sent me a virtual hug picture.

I am grateful for little girl voices that are clear and precise and melt my heart when they speak.

I am grateful for my CASA girl’s attorney who goes above and beyond for our girl.

I am grateful for teenagers who have been taught to look people in the eye and hold conversation without having a phone in their hands.

I am grateful for a few minutes to read while going through the automated car wash.

I am grateful for memories Delores shared during dinner on the patio about doing projects at the kitchen table with Mom.

I am grateful for those in my life who care enough to ask.

I am grateful for vacuum cleaners.

I am grateful for the many colors of flowers and the satisfaction of pulling spent marigold flowers and replanting the long black seeds in order to make more marigold flowers.

I am grateful for paper towels.

And I am grateful that I am grateful, 24 hours at a time.

I would ruin it if I added much more, so I am grateful for Mark Lowry and this:

“Be careful that you don’t practice your religion in front of people to draw their attention. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven. ² “Whenever you give to the poor, don’t blow your trumpet as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets so that they may get praise from people. I assure you, that’s the only reward they’ll get.³ But when you give to the poor, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing ⁴ so that you may give to the poor in secret. Your Father who sees what you do in secret will reward you. – Matthew 6:1-4 

Mom used to talk about this scripture quite often. I have been thinking about it lately when I’ve noticed someone tooting their horn on Facebook, and when I have observed personally those around me who are embarrassed if anyone notices their good deed, preferring to just do something nice for another person with no recognition.

Last night, my Dad and I were speaking with a woman who actually said, “I live for compliments.” And I suppose I have been that way, too, at times in my life. Probably more often than not, if I am honest with myself. It feels good to be acknowledged. It feels good to get a pat on the back, an “atta boy” or “you go, girl.” I need to work on this.

I admire and am grateful for those who prefer to serve in secret, living by Colossians 3:23-24.

Whatever you do, do it from the heart for the Lord and not for people. You know that you will receive an inheritance as a reward. You serve the Lord Christ. (CEB)

I am grateful for lunch with Sam today, and I am grateful for a very unexpected surprise of two free meals from my friends at Tortilla Ranch.

I am grateful for my email friendship with Linda.

I am grateful for beautiful weather.

I am grateful for tender moments of listening to Salvy talk to the announcers or watching Lorenzo’s smile as he jokes with a teammate, those tender moments when something so trivial can just make my heart burst with happiness.

I am also grateful for laughter with Sam. I love those times when we both just laugh and laugh and laugh.

I am grateful for our new friendship with Paul.

I am grateful that some of those life-long living lessons that Mom tried to teach me actually stuck and I continue to strive to live by them.

And I am grateful that our world is filled with really brilliant people who are pretty incredible and who have hearts to serve and wisdom to share.

I am grateful for sturdy hangers.

I am grateful for neighbors who are careful to park their cars in their driveways without blocking the sidewalks for those of us who walk.

I am grateful for dry basements.

I am grateful for people with interesting names, like the teller at the bank today. Blaide. I would have imagined black leather and many tattoos and piercings. I would have been completely wrong.

I am grateful for my husband, my Dad, and my brothers and sister who all enjoy working hard.

I am grateful for this new bread that makes me feel very healthy when I eat it, and I am grateful that it is full of stuff that apparently masks the discoloration, i.e. growing fuzz otherwise known as penicillin, because I am certain that I just ate the pale greenish/bluish on the crust,  so I am grateful that strep and all things sickly are held at bay.

That makes me grateful that I no longer have to eat Mom’s cheese. Cheese never goes bad, didn’t you know?  Just slice off the stuff that bears no resemblance to yellow or orange and serve. Eww.

I am grateful that Natia was not running scared in the weather but was safe inside.

I am grateful that the boom in the night last week was just boom in the night and not anything else.

I am grateful for a co-worker who showed me a very sad gorilla video that made me cry, so she showed me a second video to make me laugh. I am grateful for laughter on a dull Wednesday afternoon:

I am grateful for ironing done and a TV to watch while it was doing.

I am grateful for a safe trip for Sam last week and grateful to hear his excitement about his new job.

I am grateful for the simple pleasure of a Tequila Harry’s hard shell chicken taco.

I am grateful for funny Davis stories on Facebook shared by his mom.

I am grateful for my Dad, Director of Operations at all things remodeled.

I am grateful for Donald, the duck who greets me every morning this week at the kitchen window. He sits in the middle of the pool, if ducks sit in water, that is. And he quack quacks, which makes me smile. Duck sounds are funny. Everyone should appreciate the unique sound of a duck. And so, with that, I am grateful for one last silly video on a dull Wednesday afternoon: