O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the worlds Thy Hands hath made…

My internal jukebox was playing loud as I walked this early morning. I am so very grateful that I grew up in a church that sang this song on a regular basis. I know the words by heart, and because of that, I can turn up the volume internally and sing to my soul’s content.

I left the house a little earlier since son wasn’t joining me to walk to the track. I planned to walk my regular route and get in 3.37 miles before the day began. But when I got to the big tree and saw what He was creating right before my eyes, I began to second guess my regular route that would have me walking away from the performance. By the time I got to the courthouse, I knew I had to turn around and go back so that I wouldn’t miss the opportunity.

As I walked, my pace picked up slightly, because with every block, the sky was changing and the houses were in the way. At the edge of town, I just had to stop and enjoy and sing to my soul’s content…how great Thou art, how great Thou art.

I am grateful for the opportunity this morning to walk 5.04 miles.

I am grateful for a healed leg and a huge scar to prove His healing.

I am grateful for a change in my route.

And I am grateful that I didn’t miss the greatest show on earth, and in the sky.

I am grateful for the awareness that has awakened within once again.

• I am noticing the sound of my shoes on gravel, the crunch rhythm keeping me company.
• I hear the morning song of a cardinal high in the grove of trees.
• I resist the urge to step on the sheet of ice along the curb that has an air pocket beneath it and is just begging me to crack it.
• The author reading the biography I am currently listening to mentions “filmstrips” as she describes elementary school, and it takes me back to the days when filmstrips were a thing and always a welcome break from division worksheets.
• The brick street sparkles with frost under the streetlight and makes my walking slightly precarious until I make it to the sidewalk at the end of the crosswalk.
• I feel the sweat beginning to form across my back even in the 30 degree morning, and it tells me I am doing good, keep going.
• If it weren’t so early in the morning, I would knock on the doors of the ones who are doing “before dawn” laundry and tell them thank you for the dryer sheet smells that make my walk very pleasant.

I am grateful for the beginning of my days now and the promise of Lamentations on this day that I have felt consumed by thoughts and tasks. “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.” 3:22-23 NIV

I am grateful to look forward to a new day tomorrow.

I am grateful today for a return to normalcy by way of Sunday morning Friends church in the sunroom, Sunday morning COR church in front of the fireplace, and afternoon Chiefs football.

I am grateful for a sister who makes me cry because of her compassion for others translated into passion for helping a Romanian family and sharing her story with the rest of us.

I am grateful for a brother who has such a way with words.

I am grateful for a husband who is deep down kind in word and in deed.

I am grateful for a daughter who hurts and lets me in.

I am grateful for a Dad who never ceases to amaze me on multiple levels.

I am grateful for a 50 degree afternoon to walk and enjoy a Sunday afternoon before a football game.

I am grateful for a good pair of walking shoes that I thoroughly intend to wear out.

And I am still grateful for a phone that takes pictures.

I am now two days back on track, not back on THE track, more like on the street, sidewalk, trail. I still need to work on starting an hour earlier…holiday weekends are lazy…but if I had walked an hour earlier this morning, I would have missed this gift God gave to me and me alone. I was the only one in this place at this moment to see His beautiful landscape from this perspective.

Today, I am grateful for an extra hour of sleep, and I am grateful Sam stayed asleep and didn’t wake up as I was gathering all the things in the bedroom to go morning walking, and I am grateful I didn’t forget my phone so that I could take the picture, and I am grateful for a fitness watch that allows me to pause my trek long enough to stop along the trail to take a picture and awe a little, and I am grateful for a few less ice patches in the street and on the sidewalks, and I am grateful for a great Audible book to keep me company and make me forget that I have no feeling in my legs in the 20 degree air, and I am grateful for new gloves that work well to keep my hands warm, and I am grateful I remembered tissues for the ever present bitter cold runny nose, and I am grateful for a healed leg so I can walk again, and I am grateful for a beautiful new granddaughter who is healthy and gives me one more reason to love harder and be grateful.

It’s funny how the turning of a page, the 12 gongs on a grandfather clock, the sunrise of a new day and year seem to energize and refocus a resolve to try again, do better, reach a goal.

Yesterday, I was irritatingly content to stay under the covers in the warmth of a morning, eat a cookie after lunch, and excuse the potato chips at the end of the night on the couch. But today is a different chapter.

Psalm 96 begins:

Sing God a brand-new song! Earth and everyone in it, sing!
Sing to God—worship God!

Brand new. Not, new to you. Not, used new. Not, new-ish.

Brand new.

This is a brand new day. There will never be another one just like it. God deserves my brand new outlook, my brand new attitude, my brand new mindset, my brand new song.

On this new day of 2021, I am grateful for a quiet morning walk in the bitter cold, me and my audible book keeping step.

I am grateful for a cardinal that greeted me as I sidestepped icy patches in the road.

I am grateful for a warm home, a fire in the fireplace, a new quilt, a heated towel after a long shower, a husband who changed the sheets and started the laundry.

I am grateful for time with our son last night, watching a movie, playing games, and driving out of town to watch the moon rise on a deserted dirt road.

I am grateful for the hope and joy a new baby brings.

I am grateful for my health, for my husband’s health, my daughters’ health, my dad’s health, my grandchildren’s health.

I am grateful for cinnamon rolls that turned out successfully and grateful for the absence of craving.

I am grateful that I am not just a project manager, not just a wife, not just a mom and Ama, not just a daughter and sister, not just a former music teacher, not just a broken bad choice out of shape introvert who can’t let go of my past – I am all these things. Take me as I am, Lord, in this condition, when I am first day hopeful and 351st day weary.

I am grateful for spiritual transformation and renewal. I am not as I was, and with the passing of time and the accumulation of knowledge and wisdom, my soul desires more. I want to be filled with God’s peace and His reassurance that I am in the palm of His hand and He will hold me tightly, no matter what this new year brings…

I am grateful for a very small circle who will love me and support me and encourage me.

At the end of this day, I will have a brand new granddaughter.

At the end of this day, I will have walked 5+ miles.

At the end of this day, I will have fed my body goodness in the form of food that strengthens and builds rather than food that contributes to slothful and unhealthy.

At the end of this day, I will have made some choices and decisions that will affect others.

At the end of this day, I will have created a new song.

At the end of this day, the day will no longer be brand new, and 2021 will be one day gone.

At the end of this day, I will be grateful for His never ending love for me as I am now, not as I hope to be on the 351st day.

To praise isn’t a sacrifice at all. It should and does roll off the tongue quite easily. It flows from my fingertips if I will just stop and take the time.

But biblically speaking, to OFFER praise is my sacrifice, as the fatted calf or choice lamb was in Old Testament times.

I need to remember that, as our KC pastor focuses on generous giving this month. Part of my internal tithe to God is to offer my sacrifice of praise.

I am grateful for twinkling stars in the pre-dawn.

I am grateful for a leaf that provides skitter sounds across the street in the morning breeze.

I am grateful to hear my feet walking once again.

I am grateful for an absence of political yard signs and flags.

I am grateful for the smell of a neighbor’s dryer sheets making clothes smell great again.

I am grateful to be the only human being on the street in the early morning.

I am grateful for a return to brisk evenings under a cloudless sky.

I am grateful for Sam’s new firepit that he built this week out of the end of a propane tank and some free landscape wall stones he gathered around town.

I am grateful for simple joys.

I am grateful for clean windows, inside and out.

And I am grateful for a quiet weekend to prepare and enjoy.

Just a few short years ago, I had lots of different experiences that prompted me to write: volunteering at the assisted living facility, being out and about in Kansas City, playing at church for choirs, taking lots of walks…

My 2020 life mostly consists of three computer screens and two cats. Every day is pretty much the same. It has been hard to be creative with something new to thank God for each day. I AM grateful for clean underwear and a new laser pointer for the cats’ entertainment, but that is about as exciting as it gets around here these days.

In my two devotionals a couple weeks ago (yes, this has been sitting in drafts that long), both focused on making ourselves available to be used by God to serve others. The David Jeremiah devotional referenced partnerships and how sharing our problems with another is beneficial and so much can be done in partnership, working together, referencing Ecclesiastes 4.

I am grateful for window blinds that shield my eyes from the bright morning sun shining in the window.

I am grateful for Dana neighbor who checks on us constantly.

I am grateful for a messy bedroom that reminds me I could be productive and get something accomplished after a work day.

I am grateful that Sam is doing so well even though he feels like he isn’t.

I am grateful for what seems like all four seasons happening in the months of October and November in Kansas.

I am grateful for clean counters and empty laundry baskets.

I am grateful for a return to walking, one mile at a time, something I haven’t done all fall.

I am grateful that Sam talks to me, listens to me, prays with me, and helps me feel like I am not completely isolated and alone.

I am grateful for his friendship with Brad.

I am grateful to have seen my Texas daughter and grandchildren this last weekend, even if it was just for a couple of hours. It was worth the drive time.

As pictures scroll past this Echo Show device that sits on my desk while I work, I am grateful that someone took the time to take the pictures so that I do not forget good memories.

I am grateful for the smell of dinner at the end of a long day.

I am grateful for a new mattress topper that makes our bed more comfortable.

And I am grateful God has put a renewed desire within to make a difference by serving Him.

I am grateful tonight that I am now freeeeee of my PICC line and midline and antibiotic infusions, and 7 weeks later, I am healed and working my way back to a healthy lower left leg without staph!

I wonder if my girls would mind me sending 14,000 saline syringes to all the grandkids to play “doctor’s office.” I could be their supplier for the next year or two.

Early morning: I am sitting in the waiting room while Sam has pictures taken of his entire insides. We look forward to these days while at the same time we dread these days.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble.
– Psalm 46:1

Sam took a nice long break from chemo treatments this fall so he could help the family with corn and soybean harvest. Tradition that grounds him, makes him feel normal, productive, helpful. But long breaks from chemo are a mixed bag of wonderful and scary and always with the gut-wrenching feeling of “it must come to an end…”

God is our refuge and strength,  always ready to help in times of trouble.
– Psalm 46:1

He hasn’t looked forward to this day. In fact, he has vocally, physically, mentally, and emotionally dreaded it. Until you have walked in his shoes, I don’t think ANY of us understand. I do my best to empathize and let him unload, but I cannot help…

God is our refuge and strength, a help always near in times of great trouble.
– Psalm 46:1

Morning: Doctor appointment is over, and Sam is still the rock star he always has been. Labs were great, he looks great, and the oncologist addressed the troublesome side effects of a body in battle, so next stop is to get back on the horse.

He is riding this ride today in a quiet atmosphere, attempting to sleep away the journey that will last all day long. The rhythm of the pump lulls… Occasionally, his kind nurse steps into the cubicle to check on him, the pump, the tubing, the beeps. She silently dotes on this regular traveler making sure his blanket is warm enough, making sure he is comfortable. Although we know the journey well and expectations remain as usual, we still wonder what the scans will show.

God is our protection and source of strength.
He is always ready to help us in times of trouble.
– Psalm 46:1

Mid-day:

I am grateful today for a quiet cubicle, light turned off, the cold and cloudy day just beyond the large plate glass windows.

I am grateful Sam is sleeping.

I am grateful for the inventor of the “Hey, let’s HEAT these blankets for patients.”

I am grateful for recliners that recline.

I am grateful for my new laptop so that I can work from anywhere, and I am grateful for hospital wi-fi.

I am grateful for first thing in the morning long hugs, for mid-day shoulder squeezes and “I love you’s”, for in the dark of the night hands held.

I am grateful for incredible, compassionate nurses and medical assistants, and the best oncologist who takes time, shares his personal life with us, and offers reassurance and levity in the middle of anxiety and trepidation.

I am grateful for a bathroom right next to this cubicle, and I am grateful for wheels on the bottom of the pump cart/tree thingy.

I am grateful for a phone call with Katrina last night.

I am grateful that Sam can receive this care even in the middle of a pandemic, and I am especially grateful that his cancer center care team takes the pandemic seriously, which makes me extremely grateful they still allow one visitor per patient so I can be with him today.

I am grateful I am not hungry right now because someone’s cafeteria lunch in the next cubicle does not smell so good.

I am grateful for Sam’s constant “I’m sorry I am putting you through this…” his heart is so huge.

I am grateful for masks that protect us from the deadly and conceal faces made that probably shouldn’t be made.

And I am grateful that as we wait for results, we can rest, knowing that:

God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him.
– Psalm 46:1

A little over a week ago, we took a road trip. As we drove the miles between Kansas City and Winchester, Indiana, I watched the changing colors of the trees and thought about the last time I was in a vehicle on an extended drive with my Dad, my brother, and my sister. I couldn’t remember the last time.

But I could remember road trips as a little girl with this family of mine – Daddy driving and letting us sit on his lap and pretend we were driving, too; or sitting in the middle of the backseat with Angela on one side and Dwight on the other, driving to church, Mom’s overpowering perfume giving me a headache; being nervous when Dwight or Angela was the driver; all of us singing “Horsey, Horsey on your way…” in a round or “I love you, a bushel and a peck,” as the miles went by; hearing Mom yell “Hold’er Knute, we’re headed for the pea patch!” if the car turned a corner really sharp and we all slid to the left into the poor person next to the door.

This time, Dad was in the back seat with Dwight or Angela, and Sam and I were in the front. Dad was as quiet as he always was when we were children, and I find myself wondering a lot what he must be thinking in his quiet.

Sam hatched an idea a month or so ago to take this road trip. “Dad needs to see Ron and Pam, and so do we.” I had never been to their home, and it was time to get there, since they have been there for over 20 years.

It was a fast, four day trip – probably too many hours in a vehicle for Dad, but Dad being Dad, he never complained once. We had two rules – well, I had two rules – no talking politics on the trip since we all have varying opinions and are dead set in our leanings, and the vehicle would stop every 90 minutes whether we needed a stop or not.

It was such a peaceful, wonderful ride for me. Family feels secure and stable. Family is foundational. My family is my safety net. These are the people who check in, who support, who love me no matter what, who pick me up when I am down – and these are the ones who made Sam a part of our family and have loved him from day one.

Our weekend happened too fast, but there are many memories made for which I am grateful:

• Silence before Ron’s prayer at the table – it was so very reverent and the presence of the Holy Spirit was surrounding us
• Seeing our Zoom church in person – the windows, the organ and piano, the history…
• Pam’s food – she is my Ina Garten
• Riding in the vehicle with all of us, including Pam and Ron – seeing the houses and farms of our Zoom Friends and hearing the history firsthand
• Stories and memories shared around the table
• Meeting Friends who have prayed for us for months and years – Shirley, Ellene, Ellen, Marsha, Mary, Jeff, Cleo, Suzanne, Debra, Tom, and on and on and on
• Playing hymns with my sister again – Angela on the organ, Rhonda on the piano
• Watching Sam sit in a pew and listening to him sing those hymns at the top of his lungs
• Watching my Dad sitting in a pew just listening to our impromptu, mistake-ridden concert
• Eating Pam’s popcorn in the parlor while watching our Chiefs lose for the first time
• Having a family Zoom call with most of us sitting in the same room
• Finally getting to see the food pantry and the solar panels and the compassion garden
• Listening to my brother and sister-in-law in person as they led their congregation in worship – their hearts are golden, their lives are sacrificial, and they are the STANDARD and such role model pastors who actually PASTOR their church members
• Laughing at Ron’s college stories of pranks – his “halo” tilted just a teeny tiny bit
• The hard-to-swallow, blink away the tears moment when we had to say goodbye

There are so many more memories that were made, but I just want to remember and acknowledge how very grateful I am for my family.

I am so very grateful Sam had the idea and made it happen.

I am so very grateful Angela could take off work or work in the vehicle, and Dwight just happened to have an injury that kept him from working so he could ride in an SUV all the way to Indiana, and Dad was available and willing to let us kidnap him for the weekend and make him sit in the SUV for 9 hours each way.

I am so very grateful Pam and Ron were home and not in DC and were able to adjust their weekend to accommodate our invasion.

I am so very grateful God placed ME in this Ferguson family.

And I am grateful that I haven’t lost all those childhood memories and that I had the opportunity to revisit them, from the FRONT seat and not in the backseat between Dwight and Angela.