I was talking to my boss a few days ago. We were having girl talk at the end of a work day. I don’t remember the details, but I do remember telling her about my makeup. Four things total, and I buy them from the pharmacy chain down the street, not the makeup counter at the nice department stores, not the high end stores that make a major dent in my bank account.

Mascara, eye shadow, blush, and a lipstick. That’s it.

Simple.

She told me about her closet full of really nice dressy clothes that she never wears. She prefers to wear the comfortable every day kind of clothes now.

I have taken a long break from counting every last thing. I have allowed my life to become caught up in…life. It affects my attitude and my outlook, and I must do better. I need to take time to notice the simple things. I need to rediscover that I am surrounded by a limitless hope in the ordinary that is overlooked and ignored and taken for granted.

As I walk this morning in the perfect Kansas City spring day, I am grateful for:

• Tree shadows that create art on the parking lot
• The flit of a squirrel tail
• Birds that sing God’s praise
• Dandelion beauty
• The ability to walk and take a break from my work inside
• The contrast between the sky blue, puffy white clouds, and bright spring green of the tree’s everyday clothes
• Rustling in the bushes, evidence of some creature that was startled by my presence
• Helicopter seeds that are scattered like rose petals in a bridal aisle
• Smiles
• Cool air hitting my nostrils as I walk
• The last remaining daffodil holding on to the spotlight of the stage
• Moments to surround myself with limitless hope and notice every last thing

I am also grateful that my Dad had minor surgery. That sounds horrible, I know. However, because he had this surgery, he needs some assistance with wound care, and that gives me the opportunity to see him every day, even if just for a few minutes.

I am grateful that he doesn’t live very far away, and in three more days, we will live under the same roof, which makes me doubly grateful.

I am grateful for a comfortable office chair.

I am grateful for a light at the end of the tunnel and feeling educated in technical writing and the psychology of aging, and I guess I am grateful that I am a Jayhawk.

I am grateful for ice cubes in my drinking water.

These may not be what some would consider high-end gratefuls – nothing earth-shattering, shout-it-from-the-mountaintops.

But they are awe-inspiring.

Comfortable, everyday clothes kinds of gratefuls that I have been taking for granted. Simple, usually ignored “cosmetic aisle” kinds of gratefuls. Gratefuls that should be acknowledged, worn, and applied. I will do better.