I am grateful for the sound of paper bags.

I am grateful for wagging dog tails.

I am grateful for an impromptu Braums’ stop to see Delores.

I am grateful for Sheri.

I am grateful for Angela.

I am grateful for Sam.

I am grateful for leftover pizza.

I am grateful for sweet carrots.

I am grateful for birthday cake.

I am grateful for green Flint Hills.

I am grateful for smoke smell from burning fields.

I am grateful for full rainbows with stormy sky backdrop on a Sunday evening.

I am grateful for family.

I am grateful for people who are positive.

I am grateful for a lesson this morning from my boss about personal expectations.

I am grateful that church attendance is a priority in our home.

I am grateful that I would rather read than be connected to the internet.

I am grateful for early morning walks in dense fog.

I am grateful for another lesson in the value of being quiet.

I am grateful for patience and understanding directed towards me.

And I am grateful for low humidity.

I looked at my inbox after lunch today, and off to the right, that’s what it said. “You have nothing else scheduled today.”

Hot diggity dog.

And my boss told me to go home early a few minutes ago. But, he didn’t know I had made a mistake with a very important overnight that I sent and needed to wait for the FedEx truck that arrives just before closing.

So, the office is quiet, and I have a few minutes to type my gratefuls while I watch for the FedEx driver to walk by.

I am very grateful for sunrise walking.

I am grateful for an extremely productive week at work and bosses who recognize the hard work and reward the faithful with lunch and early exit on Friday afternoon.

I am grateful for toothbrush and toothpaste at work and for clean teeth at 1 pm.

I am grateful for a beautiful not-quite-spring day that graces Kansas City.

I am grateful for a box of new pens and a new notebook since I have filled mine up with notes and notes and notes and notes.

I am grateful for a weekend with my brother and family.

I am grateful for George Niang and Buddy Hield.

I am grateful for tiny babies sleeping in carriers while their parents walk and carry and are absorbed in conversation.

I am grateful for a bag of carrots and celery to munch on.

I am grateful for my husband who tells me he loves me many times a day.

I am grateful for lots of little girl socks in many colors on their way to Oregon.

I am grateful for the urge to pee. Think about it. It would be pretty awful if we never had that urge. We would be like rabbits. Or birds. And life would not be so comfortable.

I am grateful for a boss or two who make me laugh when work is stressful.

I am grateful for wisdom from Max Lucado and Tony Campolo and Shane Claiborne and Jen Hatmaker and Patsy Clairmont and Bob Goff and The Navigators and Adam Hamilton and so many others I love to read.

I am grateful that Jesus loves me, I know. Just as I am. I know He watches over me. No one cares for me like Jesus. I’d rather have Jesus than anything.

And I am grateful for this song to begin my weekend:

But I am grateful for the work.

I don’t have time to EXERCISE.

But I am grateful for my husband who says, “Let’s go walk.”

I don’t have time to PLAY THE PIANO IN THE LIVING ROOM THAT IS RIGHT THERE.

But I am grateful for the opportunity and responsibility to play for choir on Thursday nights, and I am grateful for the times when I am asked to play for the other choirs on Wednesdays and Sundays.

I don’t have time to COOK GOOD MEALS for Dad and Sam.

But I am grateful that there is food in the house, and I am grateful that Sam and Dad can take care of themselves, and I am grateful that Sam helps me by making dinner when I am late.

I don’t have time to go SHOPPING for things I need.

But I am grateful that I don’t need much, and when I do need something, I am grateful that I live in a metropolitan area and can take a few minutes to run a quick errand, and I am grateful for Amazon because it keeps me OUT OF THE BEAUTIFUL AISLES that tempt me.

I don’t have time for FUN.

But I am grateful that my sister keeps asking.

Things for which I am grateful today:

• A sharp-dressed man. He is just pleasant to the eye when he tucks and shines and fits and is trimmed and shaved and everything is in place. I saw one of these today, and it was refreshing.
• 60 degree sunshine. It does a weary soul a lot of good.
• Mom’s bookmark that greets me every morning. I look at her picture and can feel her hug.
• Clean floormats. They go a long way in making a person want to keep the car clean.
• An empty public restroom. It’s a lot better than a really busy one. And there is just nothing quite like doing business next to strangers. So when it’s empty, I’m grateful.
• The beauty of a diamond. The sparkle is just pretty. Maybe it’s the cut. So I am grateful for the cut of a diamond.
• Quiet God moments in the car. And while walking. And in the morning kitchen. And after Bingo. And after CASA visits. And after phone calls with a daughter or two.
• A lost dog no longer, and a little boy who needed to tell me so. Natia the escape artist was at it again, and Angela is meeting lots of friendly neighbors who are looking out for Naughty.
• Very few reasons to walk into a department store before a holiday. I cannot handle Kohls at Easter. I tried. I cannot. The pink frilly furry lacy sunshiny cuteness is too much, and I cannot. I just cannot. My account says I cannot.
• Non-stick surfaces, unless I need to tape something. Non-stick pans are the best. Non-stick wrapping paper is not the best.
• A Club Lulu Unwich

God didn’t bless me with success so I could eat caviar every day. – Kathy Lee Gifford

I look kinda like a drowned rat. The umbrella was nicely resting in the passenger seat when I went in to the doctor’s office. So, I am grateful for that umbrella, WHEN I AM SMART ENOUGH TO NOTICE THE RAIN CLOUDS.

I am grateful for a devotion this morning about help, and how often we need it, and Psalm 121, one of my favorite favorites.

I am grateful for those annoying back-up beeps. I am certain they are a wonderful warning system for those of us who are oblivious and need HELP.

I am grateful for the smell of rain.

I am grateful for very nice people who rescue naughty little dogs and HELP them in the middle of pouring water from the heavens.

I am grateful for internal alarm clocks that HELP me wake up.

I am grateful for Tuesday night Bingo, a HELP when I am feeling a little selfish.

And I am grateful for that devotion that was then followed by KLOVE playing this song that has been on my heart and in my head all day long.

A friend and I were talking this weekend about something I have wondered for a long time. Why is it that the people in our lives who are gung-ho crazy about supplements and vitamins and Chinese herbs and green tea and only natural whole GMO-free food and kale eaters and oils infusers and takers…are the ones who always seem to be sick? They’re constantly looking for something else that is wrong – a bump, a cough, a redness, a rash, a digestive issue, a headache, a lack of sleep, a lack of energy, a lack of appetite, a lack of common sense…

I take vitamins and supplements every day, more than once a day. But I don’t think I’m loony, and I don’t think I am sick a lot. I am grateful for my vitamins and supplements. Besides, they make those rare doctor appointments very frustrating when the doctor says, “I really can’t find anything worth concern.”

I am grateful that I am not a loony bird, or at least in my mind I’m not a loony bird. I was going to elaborate, but I think I won’t.

I am grateful for Ruth, who “encouraged” me, and that is a MILD word there, to take pills/supplements, and I am grateful that Clare taught me to take multiple pills at once to get it all done quickly.

I am grateful for interesting business cards that showcase a person’s creativity.

I am grateful for Delores’ card she sent, describing all of the Christmas amaryllis shapes. I think Foley was the winner in the height category. Foley was so tall, he fell over and broke his back. So Dr. Dad casted him, but I was a little more drastic and amputated. Foley lived to see another day and is still enjoying his hospital room with a view out the kitchen window.

I am grateful that Max is now eating better than canned peaches and hotdogs, his steady diet for the past many years.

Canned peaches with a plate lid,
and a less-than-airtight package
of the cheapest hotdogs available…
in Max’s fridge before he moved.

I am grateful for Sunday night church and the music style that I have so missed.

I am grateful for hugs from CORis kids at choir rehearsal yesterday afternoon.

I am grateful for Sam’s pancakes on a Sunday morning.

I am grateful for pretty petite flowers in a beautiful pewter vase on my desk on Friday, a gift from my bosses for Employee Appreciation Day. The whole thing fits into the palm of my hand, and the flowers are real:

I am grateful for a card from Connie, my friend I have not heard from in many years.

I am grateful for the sizzle of a platter of fajitas that makes my mouth water, and I am grateful when it lands at our table and I get to build and eat.

I am grateful to see Fabien’s face during choir rehearsal – he has the biggest grin.

I am grateful that I am not a construction worker in the middle of a dry dirt field on a windy day.

I am grateful for the shape of a pretzel.

And I am grateful  for Big 12 tournament week.

It’s true.

I read one of her essays yesterday, and I’m pretty sure my chain was yanked, my conscience was tweaked, my soul was stirred, my spirit was convicted.

For years I’ve been advocating the power and pleasure of being grateful. I kept a gratitude journal for a full decade without fail – and urged everyone I knew to do the same. Then life got busy. My schedule overwhelmed me. I still opened my journal some nights, but my ritual of writing down five things I was grateful for every day started slipping away.

Here’s what I was grateful for on October 12, 1996:

1. A run around Florida’s Fisher Island with a slight breeze that kept me cool.
2. Eating a cold melon on a bench in the sun.
3. A long and hilarious chat with Gayle about her blind date with Mr. Potato Head.
4. Sorbet in a cone, so sweet that I licked my finger.
5. Maya Angelou calling to read me a new poem.

A few years ago, when I came across that journal entry, I wondered why I no longer felt the joy of simple moments. Since 1996, I had accumulated more wealth, more responsibility, more possessions; everything, it seemed, had grown exponentially – except my happiness. How had I, with all my options and opportunities, become one of those people who never have time to feel delight? I was stretched in so many directions, I wasn’t feeling much of anything. Too busy doing.

But the truth is, I was busy in 1996, too. I just made gratitude a daily priority. I went through the day looking for things to be grateful for, and something always showed up.

Sometimes we get so focused on the difficulty of our climb that we lose sight of being grateful for simply having a mountain to climb.

My life is still crazy busy. Today, though, I’m continuously grateful for having the stamina to keep going. And I’m back to journaling (electronically, this time around). Whenever there’s a grateful moment. I note it. I know for sure that appreciating whatever shows up for you in life changes your whole world. You radiate and generate more goodness for yourself when you’re aware of all you have and not focusing on your have-nots.

I know for sure: If you make time for a little gratitude every day, you’ll be amazed by the results.

Sometimes, I think, I know, her perspective is a little far off the norm of my worldview according to my belief in God, but I am in no position to be an authority on all things, and she kicked me in the pants here. Or rather, the Holy Spirit knocked me on the noggin through this essay.

So, I return once again to my ritual of being grateful every day, for every last thing, and busy is no excuse any longer. I will take the time.

I am grateful that I am part of a family that carries hymnals with them on overnight trips for a family sing-along.

I am grateful for memories of Sunday night singspirations in the old sanctuary, hearing people call out their favorite hymn numbers to sing next. “How about number 347, Victory in Jesus?”

I am grateful for the sound of a little waterfall over small rocks and into a pond.

I am grateful for the beauty of the ritual of spring burning in the fields.

I am grateful for my sister who introduces my dad to new things in Kansas City.

I am grateful that I have a mountain to climb and that I am ascending, not descending.

I am grateful for dirty pennies found on our walks. We will forever pick them up, thanks to Aunt Patsy. “They are reminders to trust in God, because they say, ‘In God We Trust.'”

I am grateful for the smell of sheets washed with Clorox.

I am grateful for daffodils and hyacinths poking through.

I am grateful for the chorus of Blessed Assurance. “This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior, all the day long…”

I am grateful for Sundays and quiet mornings and birds singing and wind blowing and the sounds of the dryer drying and moments to pray for my girls and their challenges and friends in Oklahoma and my family.

I am grateful for a warm shower.

I am grateful for tears that well when the doxology is sung in acapella harmony and the words come alive down deep. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise Him all creatures here below. Praise Him above ye heavenly host. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.” Ahhhh-men.

And I am grateful for Oprah.

But I am grateful for a job. And one that keeps me busy.

But I AM grateful for shoes without holes, shoes that mostly fit, and more than one pair.

I am grateful for Ginger Ingram books for Bingo prizes. Thank you, Dwight, Dad, and Ginger.

I am grateful for a night of Wizard of Oz with my Abbie as Dorothy.

I am grateful for Helen’s plate of strawberries – I didn’t eat the strawberries, but her china plate sits on the dining room table now.

I am grateful for a letter my Aunt Patsy sent to my Dad.

I am grateful for laughter across the table.

I am grateful for moments of watching Sam read the book of John.

I am grateful for Sunday evening church.

I am grateful that my daughter calls me and tells me about her life.

I am grateful for crispy chicken tacos.

I am grateful for the gospel of John, but I’m not sure why. Yet. My brain doesn’t work like that. I like things spelled out in nice neat easy-to-understand stories. I’m a Matthew Mark Luke synoptics kinda girl.

I am grateful for our small group and for the way each personality contributes such unique wisdom and fun and insight and makes anticipation for the next get-together that much better.

I am grateful for a pastor who is sensitive and shows his vulnerability on stage.

I am grateful for a good review and more responsibility at work.

I am grateful for the sound of a woodpecker.

And I am grateful that Stan is still kicking. Thank you, God, for keeping him here for Geri and the rest of the world.

But I am grateful for the other nuts in the can.

And I am grateful for a nut of a sister who treated us to lunch and a Scheel’s Scotcheroo and then called me just because and told me silly things.

And I am grateful for a demo’ed bathroom floor so clean you could eat nuts off of it – holy hazelnut, Dad!

I am grateful that I don’t have to worry about which nut goes to the White House. As my pastor says, the worst thing is not the last thing.

Like I said. Filberts are nasty. Unless they are in chocolate cupcakes or chocolate spread. Then I am grateful for those hazelnutty silly-named Filberts. But don’t name your child Filbert, please. Great name for a nut or a pig or a jalopy or a philodendron. Just not a child.

Filbert for sale.