I am grateful that in the stillness, God is here.

I am grateful that in the chaos, God is here.

I am grateful that in the warm breezy afternoon, God is here.

I am grateful that even with my distractions, God is here.

I am grateful that through a child’s laughter, God is here.

I am grateful that in a thunderstorm, God is here.

I am grateful that during sheet folding and shirt ironing, God is here.

I am grateful that while sad news is given, God is here.

I am grateful that when I am sleeping, God is here.

I am grateful that during tragedy, God is here.

I am grateful that when I am annoyed and shortsighted and a little irritated, God is here.

I am grateful that through the kindness of our circle of support, God is here.

I am grateful that in the beauty of swirling leaves, God is here.

I am grateful that by a smile and a little reassurance, God is here.

I am grateful that through a song, God is here.

I am grateful that by a doctor’s wisdom, God is here.

And I am grateful that at the start of my day, in the middle of my day, and when my day is done, God is here.

I am grateful for sizzling hot dogs on a grill.

I am grateful for a purse big enough to hold it all.

I am grateful for the sound of Natia sleeping peacefully.

I am grateful that when I run, God still chooses me.

I am grateful for good sales and fun packages.

I am grateful for do-overs.

I am grateful for thoughtfulness acknowledged.

I am grateful for slightly melted ice cream in a bowl with chocolate powder sprinkles.

I am grateful for the experience of hearing Miroslav Volf and for the few points in his talk I actually grasped down deep.

If you take “love your enemy” out of Christianity, it is no longer Christianity.  – Miroslav Volf

I am grateful for my KitchenAid mixer.

I am grateful for trees getting ready for fall homecoming before winter’s blanket covers their arms.

I am grateful for crossed-off lists.

I am grateful for pants that aren’t quite as tight, even though I am really obsessing about potato chips. Stay away from the grocery store, avoid the grocery store, not allowed to go to the grocery store…

I am grateful for my circle of support.

I am grateful for shiny bathroom fixtures and an empty dishwasher.

I am grateful that I have a job where I can take off my shoes and work all day long with warm socks making my feet feel loved.

I am grateful for our art that we have chosen to beautify our home.

I am grateful that I do not work in a potato chip factory.

I am grateful for self-service postage machines and post offices that are open in the darkness.

I am grateful that my middle name is Joy. Sometimes I need to be reminded to wear it.

And I am grateful that God gave me the kind of heart that wants to sit on my sleeve.

When the weight of my world is heavy enough to suffocate but I cannot share with others because it all seems so trivial and I would sound like a prima donna who cannot deal with the insignificant and inconsequential…

When prayer time stings with no hand to hold, I must be grateful for the little amount of desire I do have, to sit in church alone.

When the chill of the day makes me long for a new sweater, I must be grateful for the many clothes I have that hang in my closet.

When I am feeling torn between the familiar and comfortable and the desire to be elsewhere and living full time in a new life, I must be grateful for the chance to live in two equally wonderful places in this season.

When I think I am starving and just want some carbs, I must be grateful for fresh carrots and celery and a handful of almonds.

When realization dawns that this could be my new normal, I must be grateful for adventure and never a dull moment.

When rain falls on just-fixed and too-short hair, I must be grateful that it is raining and that I was able to get a haircut.

When I know that I need to care but don’t want to because it is just too much, I must be grateful for the opportunities to serve and bless others by being for them as others have been for me.

When my favorite pen quits penning, I must be grateful for all of the free advertising pens taking up space in the junk drawer.

When the lump in the throat returns along with floods of memories, I must be grateful for pleasant and bittersweet memories that have not yet faded.

When I have to constantly go to the bathroom, I must be grateful I do not live in the days of outhouses.

When the imagined spotlight is on me, the woman who sits alone, I must be grateful that it is imagined.

When my boss gives me projects at the end of a long day, I must be grateful that I love my job AND my boss.

When I want to go back to simpler times that didn’t include heavy decisions, I must be grateful for a devotion that reminds that simpler times were not that simple.

The importance of today

When the dishwasher leaves spots and doesn’t take the dried-on yucky to the unknown wasteland, I must be grateful that I didn’t have to wash those dishes all by hand.

When I think we’re on the same page only to discover we are not even in the same chapter, I must be grateful that at least we are reading the same book and will eventually end up in the same place, ready for discussion and reflection.

When I am on hold for what seems like an hour, I must be grateful that it is only 4 minutes and 12 seconds and the hold music is just temporary and meant to soothe, not irritate.

When my wants and desires are lost at sea, I must be grateful that my needs are met so that I can create and dream those wants and desires.

When the carpet needs cleaned and the dust can be measured by a rain gauge and there’s no looking out the dirty windows without squinting, I must be grateful that I have carpet and a home in progress and actual windows to keep out cold and flying insects versus black plastic covering rectangle holes in the side of the house.

When I am just too tired to put forth the effort to converse, I must be grateful for communication in a card or email, or a knowing look glance, or a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder.

When my tongue is burned from too-hot soup, I must slow down my spoon-to-mouth starvation exercise and be grateful I am not forced to eat cold soup.

When a hard day has been almost too much to bear, I must be grateful for the dog who wags her tail and wants to fall asleep next to me.

When my nose continues to drip, I must be grateful for an abundance of tissues.

And when the words to the song no longer make me cry and my soul feels a thousand miles away, I must be grateful that no one understands like Jesus.

I went to the doctor for the first time here in small town USA this week. My dad was here visiting, and he took me to my appointment. Funny thing, the last time I went to the doctor in the city, my dad took me. Come to think of it, many times in my life, my dad has taken me to the doctor. When I was injured in a motorcycle wreck in high school, my dad was the one who accompanied me to numerous doctor appointments.

I was standing at the front desk filling out a few forms when an older gentleman stepped up to the counter beside me. The lady behind the desk who also happens to be the first neighbor we met here in small town USA, asked, “You have an appointment today, Gary?”

“Nah, Aunt Judy’s just gonna give me a flu shot.”

Ah, I love small town USA.

In a small town, there ain’t much to see, but what you hear sure makes up for it. – Unknown

We had breakfast at the local café yesterday, just Dad, Sam, and I. The guys at the “coffee” table were shooting the breeze and making a few wisecracks at each other. Another local walked in to join them, and one of the guys, a pastor, said, “I don’t know how I do it – some guys are chick magnets, but I seem to be an idiot magnet,” referring to his good friend and church member who took a seat beside him. We all laughed, and he then began talking about our home and the fact that he grew up two doors down and was known for getting into mischief in the neighborhood, like climbing the persnickety lady’s fence next door.

The waitress brought over a get-well card for us to sign for her mom, who happens to be the other waitress at the café and had minor surgery the previous day. Our waitress friend was collecting signatures from all the locals who love her mama. A little while later, she came back to our table to show us a cell phone picture of her daughter’s 16^th birthday present, a green iguana named Melk Melk.

Ah, I love small town USA.

Dad and Sam’s good friend Cosmo drove five hours on Sunday to help us with our kitchen cabinets installation. We are living in a mess these days, 100-year-old dust and debris everywhere. While Cosmo, Sam, and Dave, the local craftsman friend, drilled and measured and worked, Dad stood at the ready, retrieving tools, watching the process, loading the trailer with the cardboard and sheetrock and construction trash – two full days of breathing in dust and cleaning up just to have to do it all over again. It is nowhere near done, but much progress has been made. Last night, after everyone left, Sam and I stood in our under-construction space and marveled at how it is coming together, thanks to good friends and a Dad with small town USA hearts who bend over backwards in this season of our lives to help us live out our dream.

And then there was a knock on the front door.

Our next-door neighbor stood on the other side of the glass, holding a bag of cookies. As we visited with her in our under-construction that we are so eager to show off, we found out that her husband was the “elf” who mowed our yard for us while we were out of town, just because it needed to be done.

Ah, I love small town USA.

I took my dad to see the funniest thing yesterday. At least I think it’s funny. There’s a little store on the highway at the edge of town, and if you aren’t looking, you’ll miss it. Last week, Sam said we needed to go and get some paint, and we pulled up to this small building loaded with signage and displaying an outdoor Halloween decoration.

Do you see it?

You can rent a U-Haul, buy a gallon of paint, AND rent your tux, all in the same place.

Ah, I love small town USA.

Sitting at the Mexican restaurant, minding our own business, our favorite police chief stopped at the table to inquire as to how Sam is feeling, and in the middle of the conversation, he let us know that he heard we had purchased an investment property. LAST week. HOW IN THE WORLD did he hear that and so soon?

Ah, I love small town USA…

• where it’s easier to drive the golf cart or the riding lawn mower to the post office than actually start up the pickup truck.
• where it is not uncommon to see young children walking to the park by themselves or playing in the ditch filled with rain water.
• where “I seen” is appropriate and acceptable.
• where you can buy a dozen eggs, a can of green beans, a quart of ice cream, and a box of ammunition, all at the same grocery store, AND collect stamps for a set of new pans in the process.
• where suspenders are necessary for the pants.
• where there’s a church on just about every corner and everyone goes to the football game on Friday night.
• where the local radio station plays today’s elevator hits from the 70’s.
• where volunteer firefighters are “called” with the town siren, in case they are out in the field.
• where keys are left in the ignition and front doors may or may not be locked at night.
• where it just makes sense to rent that wedding tuxedo while you’re fixin’ the screen door.
• where neighbors look out for neighbors without having to be asked.
• where the local flooring guy and the local painter and the local water guy and the handyman and the neighbors all have our garage door code and can be trusted when we are gone.
• where a small town USA heart shows up on every corner if you just look for it.

I am so grateful for waitresses who tease with a wink, and board members who just came out of the field and offer words of encouragement, and neighbors who mow and bake, and the grocery store clerk with a friendly smile and a joke, and school teachers who love, and our police officer who cares, and the UPS guy and the handyman and the insurance woman who know us like they’ve known us forever, and the Dad who drives five hours to clean up and go to the doctor with his daughter and the husband who takes great pleasure in creating a forever home for his wife – small town USA hearts, all of them.

I married this.

At the end of July, Sam and I spent a couple of nights at what has now become our favorite place in Colorado – Grand Lake Lodge. While there, we got acquainted with two young girls from Macedonia who came to the United States for the summer to work.

They told us about their scary beginning when they landed in Ocean City, New Jersey only to discover that the jobs promised to them were filled and they were abandoned in a country they had never visited with nowhere to go. Through fortunate circumstances and other Macedonian friends who found employment in Colorado, they ended up at the lodge and had only been there two weeks when we met them. Over the course of two days, we learned about their lives and their country and took them to the top of the world for their first visit.

In other words, we connected.

When we told them goodbye, we promised we would come back to see them one more time before they flew back home . That happened to be this past weekend.

We are on the road a lot in this season, back and forth from small town USA to Kansas City, five hours each way. But small town USA is also just five hours from Denver. Piece of cake. And besides, if Sam is on the road, he is not tiling, sawing, mowing, fertilizing, building, demo-ing, fixing, watering, hammering, digging, etc.

I look FORWARD to these road trips because it means my workaholic husband actually takes a break and relaxes.

So, off we went on Friday evening; however, on Saturday morning, I did concede to stop at the monster tile store that has become our favorite store before we went on to Grand Lake.

Besides, that’s not work – that’s just dreaming, as we walk up and down the aisles looking at all the beautiful tile. Saturday morning, 8 am, we had a date with Floor & Décor.

Nevertheless, not only did we end up buying the tile for our new kitchen backsplash, we also bought tile to re-do an entire bathroom and shower. No biggy. I’ll give him THAT much space to fit in some work, loading the boxes of tile into the back end of the truck.

Off we headed to our favorite place in Colorado to see our Macedonian “daughters,” tile strategically and securely loaded.

We had a wonderful time with Jana and Valeria. We enjoyed driving Trail Ridge Road again and saw lots of elk. We walked downtown Grand Lake and visited with our artist friend and her husband and had a late lunch.

We sat around the fire at the lodge and visited with the girls and enjoyed a steak dinner during a cold rainy evening.

The next morning, we decided to get up early and head back onto Trail Ridge Road to “truckhunt” wildlife one more time this year, and when we opened the door of our cabin, we discovered SNOW! What fun it was to see the first snow of the season, and then to see one moose before breakfast and goodbyes with the girls.

But what do ya know. That crazy husband of mine…

Why take a road trip without adding in some extra work? What a waste of gas money, right?

We said our bittersweet goodbyes and loaded up the truck for a long 8+ hour drive back home, only to drive five miles. Sam talked to several people the day before who knew a guy. And someone else who knew a guy. And wouldn’t you know it, Sam had to know this guy, too. This guy cuts firewood.

Therefore, before we could leave the lovely town of Grand Lake, we drove five miles to this guy’s place, UNloaded all that tile in the back of the truck and repacked it in the backseat, and then filled the entire truck bed with pine firewood. So relaxing…

I was a little looney tunes, but only in my mind.

We made it as far as Denver before he hadn’t had enough. “Let’s stop at a thrift store and try to find a new door for the pantry!”

No door was found, but a used vanity was, so it had to be loaded on top of the firewood and strapped down. Off we go again.

We made it as far as Hays before he hadn’t had enough. “I need to stop at Home Depot for some wood and supplies.” You gotta be kidding me.

8+ hours to get home. The key symbol here is +. When traveling with Sam, always add a +.  During your adventure, you will always need to + some stops.  Or maybe add a <. When traveling with Sam, your adventure will always be < you anticipated.

I’m learning.

And, I am so grateful for road trip memories made and my looney tunes husband. Life is an adventure with this guy.

Today is my brother’s birthday. I like to imagine he is having a piece of cake with Mom and little sister Judy. I wish I could bake him a cake today. I’d try to make the best one ever and let him know how much I love him.

Happy birthday, Steve.

Today, I received a package from my daughter. I cannot remember a time when my heart has been so full. Inside was a personalized calendar with everyone’s birthdays, a grateful board to hang on our wall, and a beautiful picture of her family that is now hanging next to my desk. But THIS is what makes my heart overflow with love and gratitude and an overwhelming sense of Mama Bear:

I am very grateful today for a heart that is full.

Yesterday morning, Sam and I sat at the dining room table in the quiet of the morning before the day began. I read a devotion, and it sparked a good discussion about the words, “I am sorry.”

When I was a teacher, one of my pet peeves formulated when children would be directed to apologize for something, and immediately, the standard response was, “Sorry.” I would always correct them.

“I’M sorry that I…”

“I’M sorry for…”

Obviously, in those immediate moments, the apology was less than heartfelt, and my insistence was annoying.

Back to our morning:

We talked about those who grow up in homes where those words are rarely if ever uttered, homes where children never witness the example of remorse from their parents, homes where spouses never humble themselves and admit their mistakes and failings in order to offer or receive forgiveness. What would it be like to never hear those words?

I know. I lived it once upon a time, and I raised my children in the same type of environment.  Saying “I’m sorry” is hard. Remorse may be there, but vocalizing it is another class. Now that I am in my post-parenting season, this is a lesson that I wish I could re-teach, or re-learn.

When our children are raised never seeing their role models admit they were wrong or owning up to mistakes, surely this affects how they grow up to view their own mistakes.

It is something that Sam and I do often for each other – he, more so than me. In fact, before we began our devotions, we were discussing a to-do list and we got short with each other.

I tend to “turtle” and hide in a dark, quiet corner of my mind.

Sam doesn’t allow me to do that any longer. He likes to deal. Right now. And he did. He apologized on the spot, and we worked it out.

“This is how I want you to conduct yourself in these matters. If you enter your place of worship and, about to make an offering, you suddenly remember a grudge a friend has against you, abandon your offering, leave immediately, go to this friend and make things right. Then and only then, come back and work things out with God. – Matthew 5:23-24 (THE MESSAGE)

I am so grateful that I have a husband who says the words “I’m sorry” and “Thank you for…”

I am so grateful that the “silent treatment” is not acceptable in our relationship.

I am so grateful for the times when we take the time to discuss devotions and have heartfelt conversations, appreciating the moments and growing in our relationship to each other and to God.

I am so grateful that confession and remorse are not prerequisites to forgiveness. For all the apologies we have not received in our lives, we daily ask for the graciousness to forgive.

The truth is this: being human allows my loved ones to be human. Getting back up after I fall down gives others courage to do the same. Asking for forgiveness lifts a weight – not only from my shoulders, but also from the shoulders of my beloveds. It gives us a chance to discuss what we wished we would have done differently and how we’ll react in the future. – Rachel Macy Stafford in Only Love Today

I was walking around this morning, hating the underwear I put on. Man, they were uncomfortable. I shifted and pulled, and nothing seemed to help.

After a fast breakfast of an egg in a cup, I told Sam I had to get to work, which meant walking upstairs to my office with a window on the 2^nd floor.

Every step was irritating, thanks to my annoying underwear.

I sat down at my desk, the desk I love at the window I love, AND, it was a rainy day, which is another reason to love my work today. After 10 minutes of not being able to concentrate due to infuriating undies, I decided I had ENOUGH.

They’re comin’ off. And then, THIS fell out.

I am grateful today for underwear that are free of sand burrs.

And since I am focused on underclothes, I am grateful for new socks with good elastic, just because.

I am grateful for rainy days and cooler weather.

And, I am grateful for home office, because this experience would have been much more awkward in the work office.

I am grateful for the ability to update so many people on Sam’s progress:

https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/samscofield

I am grateful for a truckload of ginormous mums.

I am grateful for lemonade stands on a hot September Saturday.

And I am grateful for anticipation of rain and cool days in small town USA this coming week.

…praising my Savior all the day long.

I am grateful on this Friday afternoon to have a chair next to a window on which to sit in this chemo room.

I am grateful that Sam is sleeping through this treatment he so dreaded this time.

I am grateful for his surgeon who knows how to make patients laugh and feel very loved at the same time.

I am grateful for blankets in warming drawers.

I am grateful for dings on a cell phone, indication of a sea of support and encouragement via text messages.

I am grateful for clean socks.

I am grateful for the hymn “I Need Thee Every Hour.” I do.

I am grateful for good news of a sister helping a brother through a crisis, for a high risk pregnancy successful ultrasound, for a grandma’s treat of seeing a granddaughter’s volleyball game during a visit, for friends who share their good news with me.

I am grateful for a scratchy throat, a gentle reminder while I sit in this chair in this particular place, that I am healthy and have been so blessed.

And I am grateful for carbonation.