These two beautiful ladies lived in the same neighborhood when I was in high school. One was a year older than me, one was in my class. One shares my first name, one was my bridesmaid. Both share birthdays in the same week, this week.

Both were two of my best friends as I navigated some rough years called teenagerdom.

They know things about me I hope they keep a secret.

They are evidence that while some girls can be catty and mean, other girls can be rock solid friends and forgive the trivial and seasonal. While some girls come and go in our lives, a few remain as lifelong friends and sisters.

corduroys * Chorale * dragging Main * Def Leppard * big hair * Mr. Yount * french fries at The Hutch * cassette tapes * Ken’s Pizza * E.T. and The Blue Lagoon * writing notes in class * Pac Man and Frogger * Love’s Baby Soft and shiny lip gloss * South Hutch softball games * Trapper Keepers * freezing in that girls’ bathroom * Mrs. Olsen and her scripture singing “I will bless the Lord at all times, His praise shall continually be in my mouth…”  * the pay phone in the corner * Rhonda’s unforgettable laugh and Cindy’s killer legs, two things I wish I had

Ah, the memories.

Happy birthday to you both.

I love you, Cindy and Rhonda, and I am grateful for you. I am grateful that you have loved me in spite of.

LOTS of in spite of.

Some days are just…

gray.

Gray in sky, gray in clothing, gray in washed walls, or gray in outlook. This morning, my day was a sunrise pink, promising to be a tired but satisfying sort of day. I woke up grateful. I drove to work grateful. I welcomed the yawns, evidence of a productive yesterday. But I also welcomed the new day, the renewal of work, the pink sunrise that said, “Good morning, Rhonda. Here is His gift.”

I was reflective and counting blessings as the morning chugged along. I was misty-eyed and sentimental, as I sometimes get in my middle-aged emotions.

Those middle-aged emotions. I’ve had them all my life, actually.

Wouldn’t you know it, in the middle of it all today, the pink faded. All it took was one little thing to cloud over the outlook.

I HATE when that happens.

One word spoken.
Or one glance.
Or a feeling of outcast.

Maybe a simple misunderstanding.
Most often, one overreaction.

And then…

fade to gray.

GAHHH. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I let the actions and the lives of others affect my color? Why can I not just be oblivious to the concrete-colored blanket of cloud and appreciate the panorama of pink rays that peek over the horizon?

As a result, I beat myself up. I must have done or said something wrong. I am unworthy and not good enough. I will forever pay the price. It will never get better.

Two steps forward. One step back.

But, at the coffee pot in the kitchen this morning, Bob Goff said, “I used to think following God required complicated formulas. I thought I needed a big stack of books, so I could figure out exactly where I was all the time. I thought if I constantly measured the distance between me and God, I’d get closer to Him. What I realized, though, is that all I really needed to know when it came down to it was the direction I was pointing and that I was somewhere inside the large circle of God’s love and forgiveness.”

This is a new concept for the one who thought she had it right, all her years of spiritual righteousness.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.
– Psalm 139:23 NLT

So if you’re serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it.
Pursue the things over which Christ presides.
Don’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you.
Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that’s where the action is.
See things from HIS perspective.
– Colossians 3:1-2 The Message

Better to be patient than a warrior, and better to have self-control than to capture a city.
– Proverbs 16:32 CEB

Therefore (because I refuse to use the word “so” after my rant yesterday)…

I begin again. I will attempt to smile through hurt feelings and be gracious instead of graycious.

I will be grateful for the blessings I HAVE been given instead of being grayteful while looking across the fence at what I wish I had.

I will gravitate towards the sunrises and sunsets instead of grayvitating under the cloud.

And I will grade myself with a pencil and eraser instead of grayding myself with a Sharpie, because I am moving in the right direction and I am somewhere inside that large circle of  God’s love and forgiveness. And for THAT, I am grateful.

I am grateful for those moments when something strikes me as funny, and it’s not really that funny, but I think it is, and I just can’t quit giggling.

I am grateful for clear ice.

I am grateful for good magnets, because wimpy magnets make me a little irritated.

I am grateful for moments when I type an incredibly long string really fast and make no mistakes.

I am grateful for the few times in a day when I actually bite my tongue, not literally but figuratively, and don’t say what is inside my thought bubble.

I am grateful for that gnawing feeling – I would have lost the spelling bee on that one, friends – that gnawing feeling I have when I get so far behind in writing thank you notes, because I know that sleep will not come tonight until I get it crossed off the list. Now if only I could be sure to remember all the thank you’s I need to write.

I am grateful for a window behind me in this office, making pretty sunsetting shadows on the wall in front of me this evening.

I am grateful for people who do not begin explanations and responses with the word, “So…” THAT is in the same category as using “like” over and over in a sentence or saying “absolutely” in place of “yes.” These things make me want to gnaw.

And I am a little behind the times, but I am grateful for the wonderful new world of flats, particularly…Rothy’s.

In the worst season of my life, it was snowing. I came downstairs at 7:30 am to find that someone had scraped the ice and snow from my car windows outside the apartment, and all I had to do was get inside and go to work.

That someone was my dad.

This morning, I drove for approximately four hours in the rain. When I left for small town USA on Saturday morning, I noticed how clean the vehicle seemed, and mile after mile I hoped the bugs would stay away from my clear view.

For the most part, they did.

Today, as I drove, I was very grateful for the way the water just beaded and raced up the windshield, allowing me to see the road just fine without having to use the windshield wipers.

It reminded me of the times in the past when my dad would treat the windshield with Rain-X and how fascinated I was that it eliminated any need for windshield wipers.

And then I wondered if my dad had washed the car and Rain-Xed the windshield.

And for a good portion of the four hours in the rain, I thought about my dad, and how he still takes care of me, even in my 50+ years.

It made me very grateful.

Not only grateful for Dad and Rain-X and pretty water beading, but also grateful for…

• Sam’s employees who give him such joy.
• a picture my brother sent to me.
• memories of singing, “I’ve got joy, down in my heart, deep deep down in my heart,” with students and choirs – “and nothing can destroy it, ‘stroy it, ‘stroy it, HYAH!”

• a face peeking out of a van, yelling, “You’re the best, Ama!” and then five little ones running across the parking lot to hug my legs one more time before we parted ways.
• having my family together again.
• five hours of nothing but my thoughts and conversation with God, serenaded by raindrops on windows.
• a couple of friends who sent me Monday messages today.

When I recollect the treasure of friendship that has been bestowed upon me, I withdraw all charges against life. If much has been denied me, much, very much, has been given me. So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good. – Helen Keller

• good music on a porch.
• cards in the mail.
• the purr of a kitten.
• the devotion of a dog.
• sticky fingers and “I love you’s” of granddaughters.
• soapy water and clean towels.

• watching Sam enjoy life.
• memories of working concession stands with my students.
• spending one day with Katrina.
• finally finishing a book.
• chips and salsa.
• Lisa and Abbie.
• KState and Chiefs wins, when they win. Royals, gotta love ya, but turn out the lights, the party’s over.
• Watching Karissa mama. It’s a verb when your name is Karissa and you have six little ducks.

• songs that make me happy and cause revival, like the one at the top.

When you exist in the beautiful state of gratitude, you become a person who only wants to give. You become so grateful that it takes over your life, and you can’t find enough opportunities in a day to give. You give joy, you give love, you give money, you give appreciation, you give compliments, and you give kindness. You give the best of yourself in your job, in your relationships, and to strangers.

You will know when you have really found true gratitude, because you will become a giver. One who is truly grateful cannot be anything else. – From my boss and friend, Karen, torn from a page of one of her daily readings

I am grateful this evening for the anticipation of home. It has been a long two weeks – long, but good. Our last flight of the day just left Seattle headed for Kansas City, and home is the next stop.

As the plane left the ground, my head was on Sam’s shoulder and his hands covered mine in a safe grasp. I couldn’t help but thank God for this man who is my best friend in life, who is the best travel partner, who looks out for me and is ever so conscious of my feelings, needs, desires, and happiness.

I am grateful for the diverse people we met in the last two weeks – new friends from Texas and California and Wisconsin and Washington and Michigan and Alaska – and young kids and other adults who are seeing the world and serving vacationers through summer jobs, from Lithuania and Serbia and Yugoslavia and China and Jamaica and Turkey. What a great big wonderful world we live in, and what incredible people God has placed in our path…

I am grateful for housekeeping staff mistakes that made us angry enough to complain last night. Our sheets were “used” when we checked in to our hotel room on Friday and again yesterday. We had to make a few calls in order to get clean sheets. The young lady who finally showed up at our door last night was so apologetic even though it was not her fault. Her name is Bojana from Serbia. She is 19 years old and is in school studying for an IT degree and so very grateful to be in Alaska for her second summer. If it had not been for the mistake of the day shift, we would not have met this adorable young lady who leaves in ten days to drive further into Alaska with a friend to explore “this beautiful country” before heading back home overseas.

Bojana said something quite profound to us as she tucked sheets and stuffed pillows into clean cases. We asked her if she had experienced mostly kindness from Americans or if she had also come across those who were less than gracious. She quietly responded that it was a mix of both, that when some people hear her strong accent, they dismiss her and have even told her to go back to her own country. Sam quickly apologized for the lack of understanding, and she said, “It’s okay. We all can learn from each other. We all need to listen more.”

One thing I love about my best friend is the fact that he listens more than he shares. I think he would love nothing more than to share his thoughts and his journey and appreciates when others inquire, but he knows the value of doing the inquiring – sometimes you don’t learn from others unless you ask. If you don’t open the door for someone to share their story, you miss out on an unforgettable experience.

This morning as we sat in the airport and watched a few service workers cleaning the waiting area, Sam quietly said, “How many people walk by and never acknowledge their service or ask their story?” They are the invisibles who make our world full and amazingly colorful.

We witnessed travelers and vacationers these past two weeks who were content to experience Alaska all by themselves, walled off and solitary, or only open to being amongst their own. Many of them were the ones who complained A LOT and needed to be first in line to get the best seats. Some were either GBS (grouchy but silent), or GAV (grouchy and vocal). But we also witnessed those who took advantage of the opportunities to learn from others and enlarge their circle, and that was probably my favorite part of the trip.

We are going home very tired. We have a long couple of weeks ahead of us, too. As I sit in this middle seat tonight waiting on the drink cart to roll past, I could easily allow myself to become overwhelmed with the details, the schedule and the rest of 2017. That would be my choice, to allow the overwhelm. But instead, I will end this trip of a lifetime by thanking God:

• For Alaska.
• For Stefan from Serbia, our waiter at The Pumphouse.
• For an all day gold panning/transcontinental pipeline/riverboat/Athabaskan excursion yesterday that neither of us wanted to go on, but ended up being a great day and lots of fun. And, we panned $42 worth of gold! Yee haw.
• For Sam’s shoulder and the back rub he gave to me as we waited to board the plane.
• For beautiful Alaskan and Washington mountains.
• For shuttle rides.
• For pictures of our manicured lawn and for Paul who manicured our lawn in preparation for company this week.
• For a successful first experience with Lyft, like Uber, but different.
• For two suitcases that barely made the 50 pound weight limit, AND for some unknown reason, were free of any charges on our return home!
• For ice cold Alaska water from a faucet.
• For my dad. I miss him and love him so very much.
• For smoked and really salty almonds and biscotti crackers for dinner tonight.
• For guys who are adults but obviously think they are cool young bucks who wear massive headphones in airports and look really really funny. They are similar in comedy to guys who are adults but obviously think they are cool young bucks who wear ball caps backwards or ball caps with straight bills and call their caps “lids.” Puh-leaze.
• For an email song from soon-to-be-author Linda that made us smile. Softly and tenderly Smith Center is calling, calling for us to come home… Funny thing is, Sam and I had just sung that song in its original form, in one of the hotel rooms this week, harmonizing together, so it was fresh on our minds.
• For people who travel with dogs, especially little fluffy dogs. The world is a better place when adorable-ness with a wagging tail struts along in a sea of people and bags on wheels.
• For the privilege of meeting Iditarod winner Susan Butcher’s husband and hearing the story of Granite, her lead dog.
• For a return to quiet flushing. Seriously, Alaskan toilets are anxiety-inducing and about as effective as defibrillators.
• For my sister. She makes me so proud.
• For text messages from a few friends along the way wondering how things are going.
• For Jen Hatmaker who makes me laugh out loud on an airplane.
• For airplanes withOUT turbulence, please.
• For sweet reminiscing on the riverboat cruise about Paul Harvey – “now you know the REST of the story,” and, “…goood DAY!”
• For the feeling of taking shoes off after wearing them all the day long.
• For anticipation of seeing six grandchildren in two more days. First time in three years that I will have seen all of my grandchildren within a three week period.
• For Psalm 121.
• And for Kansas, home sweet home.

Autumn in Denali is breathtaking; however, not like Rocky Mountain National Park breathtaking, as in taking breath. Breathtaking as in eye-popping and wonder-filled.

It’s pretty cool to walk outside your room at midnight and look at the night sky northern lights.

We have met new species of humans who do not live as we do. They work the summers in Alaska and the winters in Hawaii, spouting off facts and interesting information about this park or that site, driving those of us with popping eyes around in tour buses, or they wait tables or barista in the coffee places until the season is over. Fascinating world…

Never have I ever been so disturbed and startled as here in Alaska. Between standing beside an Alaskan Railroad engine when it decides to blow its horn, to flushing a toilet in Alaskan restrooms, probably the scariest thing in the history of vacations because it sounds like it is a toilet with a jet engine blasting its way down to China, my heart needs a vacation from the disturbing and the startling. Holy suction, Batman.

If you own a business at the top of the world where gray-headed people congregate, relax, and sight see, you can charge pretty much whatever you want for your goods and services. Holy wallet suction, Batman.

It is fairly inspirational to sit at the back of a bus with a couple from Fargo, North Dakota, who have lived all over the world, and to hear Mrs. Fargo comment on the beauty of Denali by saying, “Wow, how great Thou art, how great Thou art. There are no other words…”

Everyone should experience seeing grizzly bears in the wild, even if it is from the window of a reconfigured school bus.

Our time is nearing the end in the 49th state, and we are on our way to Fairbanks, our last destination. I am very, very grateful for all of these new experiences and for the opportunity to see God’s Alaska once again.

What makes people so negative in their thinking and conversation?

Spend two weeks traveling with the same people on a ship, on a bus, on a train, on a catamaran, and you quickly learn to avoid their pattern.

I’d rather spend the moments of each day that I will never get back by focusing on laughter and beauty and helping others and inclusion rather than exclusion, acceptance rather than rejection…

Today, I am grateful for young people and seasoned people who have chosen to not let life just pass them by but have chosen to experience new and embrace “if not now, then when,” by spending their summers working in these Princess/Holland America resorts and ski resorts and tourist destinations. What a hoot we’re having, visiting with international students and newly retireds and young graduates and bucket-listers who left normalcy in Florida or South Carolina or New Mexico or Serbia or Jamaica or China to work in Alaska for four months.

I am grateful for a husband who is an early riser. 4:30 am is the perfect time for hot chocolate in front of a fireplace, waiting on Denali to wake up.

I am grateful to be in the 30% Club. Didn’t know it was a thing. But it’s a thing and we are now a thing, too. Did you know it is rainy and cloudy wet 80-85% of the time in the rain forests up here? (Tongass and Chugach) And we are not technically in one of the two rain forests today, but only 30% of visitors to Denali National Park ever see the Denali peak because of the prevalent summer rainy dismal weather. Ding! Ding! Ding!

I am grateful to hear Sam sing “Oh Victory in Jesus…” while he’s showering.

I am grateful for pictures of granddaughters Parker and Reilly this morning, uniformed up and ready for their first day in their new school!

I am grateful for a hood on my jacket when it’s cold raining as we walk the street of Talkeetna, base camp for Denali climbers and site of “Northern Exposure” TV series.

I am grateful for eagles and ospreys and trumpet swans and little shrews and wood bison and moose and wolves and of course, bears, all of which we’ve seen during the land portion of our journey to Alaska. Oh, and dogs. But they are on leashes and if they are attached to an Alaskan, they look at you as if to say, “Dumb tourist, I’m a DOG, for cryin’ out loud,” and if they are one of the 746 dogs in the Seattle airport (that might be an exaggeration but not by much), they have no time for pleasantries because their bladders are crying and there are miles of shiny polished floors to navigate before the the asphalt grass of outside is in sight.

I am grateful to be an adult back-of-the-bus-er. After all the years of choir trips and having to be the first-seat adult-in-charge, I get now why the rebel music children loved the back of the bus.

I am grateful Kansas doesn’t have Devil’s Club.

And I am grateful for these tourist group packages that include a luggage service. We set our suitcase outside our hotel room door in the morning, it magically disappears, and then reappears hundreds of miles away that evening in our room at the new resort location.

So, the lesson for our Wednesday – it IS Wednesday, isn’t it?

Appreciate the showers of beautiful blessings and let the negatives and annoyances roll off the waterproofed jacket of life.

I am grateful today for these two young men, employees of the Alyeska Hotel and the Bore Tide Deli, located on the top of the mountain here at the resort.

We arrived by bus and soon decided to explore the area by taking the enclosed tram to the top, over 2000 feet up, as opposed to walking the steep trail that was almost 2.5 miles to the top. This decision was made, of course, by the majority in the group, not by scaredy-of-heights-pants Rhonda. The ride was mostly uneventful and we proceeded to go to the deli for an early dinner because it’s what you do on vacation. Eat and then eat more.

It was cloudy but not rainy; however, at the end of our dinner, the wind began blowing and when we attempted to board the tram back down to stable ground and beautiful resort, we were informed the tram was on a “wind hold.” Fine by Rhonda, I didn’t wanna get on any tram in wind, or ever.

So we sat. And we sat. And we sat some more. And the wind blew 35 mph and then some.

Several people gave up and decided to walk down the trail…and Sam and I chose to do the same after waiting for so long. The waiter mentioned to us that it is typically a strenuous hour and a half walk, but that went right over our heads.

It wasn’t a hundred yards down that we realized strenuous was an understatement. No water bottles. Cold. Windy. Steep. And rugged. Not your typical paved walking path in suburban Kansas City. But we had great new hiking shoes and good jackets and down we went.

And then there was Anthony. “Hi! I’m Anthony.” “You’ll wanna go slower here.” “Step this way, it’s easier.” “I’m native Alaskan, so I’m more used to this.” “I won’t leave you.” “Let’s take a break.”

He was our guide and we followed him faithfully.

A few people passed us on the way down, barely stopping to make sure us old people were okay.

Pictures do not do justice. There were parts, lots of parts, where we had to use both hands to hold on to rocks and mountain, parts where we had to sit down to navigate our way slowly. Parts where our knees and leg muscles screamed. Okay, that was all the parts of the way, but still.

And then, a third of the way down, there was Benjamin. He was our waiter at the top and he also gave up hope of a tram ride, following behind us. And he stayed with Sam the rest of the way, bringing up the rear as protector of our foursome.

We had a great time and stayed positive with every single step, even though our legs were on the verge of giving out, even though Sam was weak and needed many breaks to regroup. And Anthony and Benjamin stayed with us.

It began to get dark. The trail did not get easier as we had hoped. The resort seemed further and further away. And Benjamin got a little worried, so he called for help. He was able to give our position and at .7 miles left, a rescue jeep picked all four of us up in the darkness and drove us the rest of the way.

I must admit. I had doubts and fears. I must also admit. I love my husband and am so proud of him. Several times as we slowly made our way down, he said, “Rhonda, this is not me. I am so sorry. I’m slowing you down.” But this IS Sam. He is the 60+ year old on chemotherapy who decides in a cold wind storm to tackle a 2000+ foot steep descent on a late Alaskan Sunday afternoon.

I must admit. God travels. And He sends angels to go before us and protect from behind. We were just incredibly blessed to SEE THOSE ANGELS this time, and we are so very grateful to call them by name.

Thank you, Anthony and Benjamin.

Thank you, God.

1. It’s nice to sit on the 9th floor of the ship, behind beautiful big windows, after eating brisket and fried chicken and orange ginger pork and smoked turkey and mashed potatoes and sliced carrots and double chocolate cupcakes and bowls and bowls of ice cream…when it’s a cold and drizzly day in Alaska.
2. Ohmagoodness, I wish I had an accent – Australian or English or some kind of Russian Natasha-esque. However…women who are 70+ years old with very southern accents are hilarious when they have no filter and say things like, “Ah need to teen-kul buht ah don’t wanna puhl mah puh-ants down cuz ih soh cohld!” In front of an entahr, and I do mean ENTIRE train car of cruise passengers who could all hear her. Translation: “I need to tinkle but I don’t want to pull my pants down because it is so cold!” Natasha vood nevah zay zuch a ting like daht.
3. It is much better to see orcas in their natural habitat rather than at Sea World. I love Sea World, but this was thrill on another level.
4. Fresh air should never be taken for granted.
5. When the only access to the outside world of entertainment and information is MSNBC, FoxNews, or BBC, the ship’s safety information, live video feed of the front of the boat, and shopping channels are like heaven on earth.
6. Never underestimate the glorious beauty of living in small town USA free from tourists with cruise ship id’s hanging around their necks.
7. Mid afternoon. Sam is napping in the room. I am sitting on the deck watching planes and helicopters and ferrys and catamarans take off when lo and behold Sammy the seal appears just beneath deck 3 to say hello. This is a moment that is so worth using the words “lo and behold.”

8. Pretty incredible experience to sit at a breakfast table with Pete and Helen Jane from Michigan and be honored with prayer for Sam spoken by Pete.
9. Alaska snowless cold is a little easier to take than Kansas snowless cold, with the exception of a blanket and a fireplace on a couch that is permanently molded to the shape of my behind.
10. Clearly, I do not know what “formal attire” or “smart casual” means. Fleece and flannel. THIS, I understand.

1. Just because you’re on a ship in the ocean doesn’t mean you HAVE to eat the smelly creatures that swim in that ocean.
2. Some of the nicest people in the world are from Indonesia and South Africa and Zimbabwe and the Philippines.
3. Everyone should experience eating a nice dinner while witnessing an orca/killer whale in its habitat.
4. I-can’t-help-it-tears just form when Sam’s family sings the Doxology in four part harmony before dinner no matter where we happen to be.
5. It is hard to watch Sam want to feel good and be a part of the fun when he just doesn’t feel good at all.
6. Sitting in the crow’s nest at the top of the ship is the best place to be for sunrises and sunsets and counting gratefuls in the still of the morning or the moments before bedtime.
7. Popcorn is expensive on tourist row in Ketchikan, Alaska, but it sure is tastier than creatures from the deep blue sea.
8. Reading Of Mess and Moxie by Jen Hatmaker on a ship deck under a sunny, 65 degree afternoon – can it get any better? Nope.
9. Love God. Love people. That’s all.