We walked this morning just as the light of day was beginning to wake the robins. It was muggy and still, the ground beneath us soggy with moisture from heavy air that was like a wet blanket. As I stepped on each square of sidewalk, I was amused at how the Bradford Pear trees created an instant party for the attendees – just shake some flower confetti and voilà  – a polka-dotted landscape!

Now, I could have been so easily annoyed. Kind of like I would get when one of the girls needed some kind of art project done for class and the kitchen table would get covered in glitter that would not go away no matter how hard I tried. Or the way I would get when cat hair was forever imbedded in every inch of clothing and furniture, and no matter how hard I tried to vacuum and lintbrush it away, it was permanently affixed unless I finger tweezed every last hair.

But I wasn’t annoyed. I chose to be grateful. Grateful for a spontaneous eye party.  I had another one of my silly little daydreams about a neighborhood/citywide tree and bird party to celebrate Easter, with polka-dots and pretty tulips and daffodils lining the rooms, the noise of the party-goers chirping and singing their latest news and their excitement that spring has arrived and He is risen, He is risen indeed!

I am grateful for color. I am grateful that my eyes can see pink. That I know happy purple and bright green and vibrant red and sunburst yellow and Royals blue and fire orange.

I am grateful for an array of flowers in this city. I am grateful for residents who like to fill their flowerbeds with all kinds, bursting and dainty.

I am grateful for flowers specific for cutting and showing in a vase.

I am grateful that my Dad continues to display a fresh flower outside his bedroom door, in remembrance of Mom.

I am grateful for my husband who knows I love flowers and therefore gives them when I least expect. Like today.

For no reason other than this:

He surprised me with these, delivered to my desk:

The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart. – Unknown

I didn’t think it was possible to actually have a happy Easter without grandchildren hunting Easter eggs and my daughters in the kitchen with me.

I didn’t think it was possible to actually have a happy Easter without the whole family together and eating off of Mom’s china sitting on top of the quirky signature tablecloth.

I didn’t think it was possible to have a happy Easter without laying in bed listening to the girls whisper and giggle as they discovered their Easter baskets and began their Sunday morning Easter egg hunt, spying eggs hidden all over the house.

I didn’t think it was possible to actually anticipate and have tears of joy when hearing the message of Easter, the hymns of Easter, the hope of Easter. The worst thing is never the last thing… I not only BELIEVE the message of Easter, I’m COUNTING on it.

This year, Easter was going to be very uneventful for me. Yes, my Dad is here. It was the most exciting part of the weekend for me, because I anticipated taking him to experience the sunrise service at church, one of my favorites at our church. But that was about the extent of the excitement for the day. The small Easter boxes had been taped up and sent to Oregon and Texas, to be opened and enjoyed without this Ama nearby to offer a hug to go along with the candy and Bunny FooFoo cookies. Nearby family had other plans. We waffled on spending money at the grocery store for “just another meal at home” or spending money to go out for brunch, since it was just us.

I kept the tears at bay by repeating in my head, “It’s just another day. It’s just another day. It’s just another day.”

But then, my sister decided to stay in town and join us.

And then, Julie sent a message.

We discovered that our friends also had no plans for the day. We discovered that Sam’s niece and family also had no plans for the day. And the plan was put into motion. A trip to the grocery store on Saturday morning. A trip to the hardware store on Saturday afternoon for a few flowers for the pots on the patio and in the flower bed out front. A Saturday morning cleaning of the house, with the bulk of the work done by Dad. The yard mowed for the first time this season, green-carpet-ready for company on Sunday. Card tables borrowed for enough seating on the patio. Easter eggs loaded with candy for a hunt in the back yard. Because, you know, 15 people for Easter lunch doesn’t just happen.

I am so grateful for the pinkish, orange-ish, purple-ish sky as we drove to church on Sunday morning.

I am so grateful for the music and message at 7 am. From the moment we sat down until the benediction and sending, the tears welled in my eyes and I had such a sense of joy and sadness and excitement and happiness and wished that my girls could witness the service, that Mom could see from Heaven what we were experiencing here on Earth. As the choir sang, “Were you there when He rose up from the grave!”, I imagined Mom imploring us to pay attention, that if only we could see what she sees now, we’d hang on and live life to its fullest! That for all of the years we’ve believed, YES! we should COUNT on it, because the worst thing is never the last thing! Christ is risen, He is risen indeed!

Chills I had. Joy I experienced.

I am so grateful for a sister who spent her Easter with us, helping to prepare the meal, sitting at the table sharing her silliness in a game of Family Feud, getting to know our friends.

I am so grateful for a friend who felt comfortable enough to send me a message and share that they had no plans for the day and would love to spend it with us. That’s a true friend.

I am so grateful for her family that enriched our day and infused fun and laughter and fullness into this mostly quiet home.

I am grateful for three girls who have been raised to participate, to communicate, to be present. Not once all day, did we see a device in their hands. Not once all day, did they excuse themselves to their own world. I am grateful for the time we were privileged to spend with them, laughing and talking and getting to know them a little better.

I am grateful for Sam’s niece and her family, for her three boys who are certainly full of life and silliness and added much entertainment to the day.

I am grateful for Sam’s daughter who chose to spend her Easter with us, when she could have spent it with friends, with other family, or with her nursing textbooks.

I am grateful for my Dad, who chose to be present and not disappear into his world. He made Aunt Drula’s salad all by himself! He took over Mom’s job of buttering the slices of french bread. He washed windows. He vacuumed and swept and moved tables and cleaned up the patio and filled the feeder and cleaned the counters. And when it was time to eat together, we gathered in a circle and held hands, and Dad offered our Easter Sunday blessing, just as it should be.

I am grateful for Sam, my husband, my partner. Sitting next to him during the morning service, knowing he was experiencing the same joy and sadness and excitement as I, holding hands and holding back tears in sync – my heart swells with love for this man. He was so intent on our home being prepared for our company. He made a special trip to the store and brought home daffodils and roses for an Easter “touch.” He didn’t disappear to the big screen to watch TV in the afternoon – he was present to host and enjoy and give love to those in our home. He played games. He prepared the meal with me, and washed dishes with me, and cleaned up afterwards with me, and all the while, he told me, “Thank you.”

It IS possible to have a happy Easter again. I know. I had one. Yesterday.

Finally, I am grateful for the message of Easter. As one of the pastors shared on Sunday morning, “We are Easter people.” I am grateful that because of Jesus, the worst thing is never the last thing. I not only believe the message of Easter, I am counting on it.

Playing on my internal jukebox all day and now into my sleep, (along with “Devil with a Blue Dress”):

He lives! He lives! Christ Jesus lives today!
He walks with me and talks with me along life’s narrow way!
He lives! He lives! Salvation to impart,
You ask me how I know He lives, He LIVES WITHIN MY HEART!

I am grateful today for a new dentist office that makes me so happy and excited to maybe, just maybe, finally get my mouth fixed this year. I walked in and was immediately greeted by name by the sweetest office manager who had much in common with me, who goes to my church, who made me feel like I was the most important person ever, and then I sat down in the beautiful little waiting area and realized that the quiet music coming from the speaker in the ceiling was KLOVE, and then I was attended to by an adorable young dental assistant who was so gentle and kind, and then I was introduced to the dentist who actually did my cleaning and talked to me about church and where I grew up and what brought me to the area and was so thorough in walking me through what my immediate dental plan looked like. I felt like I was home, and if you live in the area, you need to drop everything right now and ask me where your next dental appointment should be scheduled.

I am grateful for a really nice walk and talk with my CASA girl last night.

I am grateful for 0-60 no plans and kind-of-bummed Easter Sunday plans to Holy Deviled Eggs Batman, We’re-Gonna-Have-A-House-Full-Of-Company plans, thanks to my dear friend, Julie.

I am grateful for morning rain that leads to afternoon sunshine.

I am grateful that my Dad is playing golf again.

I am grateful that Katherine is spending her first Easter in heaven.

I am grateful for a boss who surprised me with little Lindt Bugs and Bees Easter chocolates this morning.

I am grateful to have spoken with Delores last night.

I am grateful for sore teeth that make me not want to eat.

I am grateful that OPENING DAY IS ALMOST HERE! And no, I’m not talking about the Royals. I’m talking about the tomb being empty! Okay, and the Royals, just a little.

I am grateful that my sister WILL make colored deviled eggs for Sunday, won’t you, Angela?

I am grateful for this prayer on my desk calendar this morning:

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the opportunity to laugh. Help me to find joy in everything that I do. Let me laugh and be cheerful, so that those around me will be blessed by my smile and my optimism. Amen. – Kim Boyce

I am grateful that we will hide some Easter eggs in the yard on Sunday – it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to have Easter with little ones…

I am grateful for chips and salsa with Sam.

I am grateful for my pastor.

And I am grateful for this Michael Youssef quote:

In His first coming, Jesus wore a crown of thorns. In His second coming, He will be crowned with many crowns.

I am grateful that we do not eat squirrels but could feed an army if we had to.

I am grateful for the reminder to be a sunflower, always looking toward the sunlight.

I am grateful for memories of dyeing Easter eggs with the girls, using the white crayon, the little wire dipper, the smell of vinegar in the water, and pretty plop plop fizz fizz tablets of color

I am grateful to have the privilege of sitting on the patio, listening to Dad describe his latest read.

I am grateful that the earliest riser, Rowdy Robin RedBreast, lives in a tree about a block away.

I am grateful for the best mac & cheese ever in the history of the world at Panera.

Which also reminds me to be grateful for the best chicken in the history of the world, Chick-fil-a nuggets,  with the exception of Mom’s fried in her electric skillet.

Which also reminds me to be grateful for the best French fries in the history of the world, Freddie’s fries, which goes nicely with the best chocolate custard ever in the history of the world.

Which reminds me to include how grateful I am for the best beef enchiladas ever in the history of the world, at LaLa’s in Mirando City, Texas, if you ever happen to stop in/swing by/make a special trip.

I am grateful for wonderful news from a friend today about results from her latest scan which showed a decrease in the mass in her lung and her acceptance into a groundbreaking clinical trial that begins in two weeks.

I am grateful for counseling and for the best counselor in the history of the world.

I am grateful for the quiet anticipation I have for Sunday morning’s 7:00 am service.

And I am grateful for this Bob Goff quote today:

If I had one last meal, I wouldn’t spend it with the person I knew would betray me. Love does.

I bought bunnies this morning. The breed? Russell Stover solid milk chocolate. I had a stack about a foot tall, all ready for my Bingo friends tonight. When I walked in to the room, Louene had a fresh perm, white locks all curly and new. Avis was in a pleasant mood, not always the case. Ruth was her quiet self but ready to play. Barb was as confused and beautiful as usual. Jim decided he didn’t want to play tonight but stayed to watch and listen to the thrill and excitement of called numbers and the occasional “I’ve got it’s,” or “What are we playing again’s.” I had a new player, Dottie, who has watched several times but has never played until tonight. She is as sweet as honey, and her confusion is as thick. Helen and Shirley, newer additions to the group, were present and accounted for, ready to win some gold dollars. And I was missing Ken, on a trip to Texas with his children for the week. And Stan and Norma, absent because of company visiting them in their apartment. And finally…there is the chair that sits empty where Katherine is supposed to be. She was being prepped for the night by the nurse on duty, assisted by Katherine’s daughter.

After Bingo hour was over, Dottie was ready to go home. She stood out of her wheelchair and Shirley was certain she should not BE out of the wheelchair. I told Dottie I would be happy to take her to her room. “I don’t LIVE in this building, though…I just don’t understand.” We rolled out of the dining area, off to find her room, or at least a CNA or nurse on duty who could take over. After three trips up and down the hall, not knowing which room was hers, my student assistant and friend, Grace, found her room at the end of the other hallway, Dottie unsure all the way and adamant she did not LIVE in this building, until we opened her door and she recognized “home.”

Grace and I were walking down the hall to leave, when she asked about Katherine. “May we go and see her?” We walked to Katherine’s room and met Katherine’s daughter.

The oxygen machine was whirring, the room very warm from the heat that emanated from the noisy box, attached to a long, clear plastic tube that wound its way throughout the apartment. Katherine was resting in her bed, her daughter sharing that she was no longer able to respond but encouraged us to speak to her, that Hospice had informed the family that she could most likely still comprehend and hear us. Her hair had been fixed today, all brushed and pretty. She is at the stage of open mouth, drawn face. When I spoke, she moved her jaw as if she wanted to respond. Grace and I told her we loved her and held her hands. I shared with her that Sam is still battling with the squirrels, that Dad has STP’d the bird feeder pole and is enjoying watching the squirrel show every day, but we don’t have any more skunk stories to tell. And of course, we let her know we miss her at Bingo.

Tears could not be held back. Her beauty in her final hours brought back memories of a January day in an apartment on the 9th floor. Déjà vu.

On a normal Bingo night, Katherine would be the only player to open the box of bunny, unable to resist, enjoying the ears or the tail while she scolded me for talking too much because she was there to play.

Katherine’s chocolate bunny will go uneaten. And her chair will remain empty. But the angels are preparing, and her place at another table is just about ready. I hope she is seated next to Mom, or at least nearby. They would be fast friends, yes they would.

So, I am grateful for Katherine tonight. For the privilege of seeing her one more time, and for déjà vu …

I have begun noticing little things and medium issues that were never how it was supposed to be…until I became this age.

I sit at my desk each day and watch a constant stream of young professionals traipse by the windows – these are the younger adults in today’s world that make or break what happens, and in a sense, those happenings will affect my life immediately or in the near future. I used to be in their category.  I used to be in that category, the younger generation, who knew better than the old people, who looked past the older generations as “fuddy-duddies”, the ones who didn’t understand the world today.  I am now the woman who is looked past, not at. I am sandwiched between the young professionals and the seasoned and successful ready-to-retires.

I follow some wonderful writers who have delightful blogs – they are mostly 30-somethings, and it hit me the other day: they are really creative and bright and if they were in charge of the world, I guess it would be okay. Okay to let go and let this next generation of millennials try their hand at running the place, with their passion for social justice and recycling to make the world a cleaner and more pleasant place, their unexplainable intelligence at figuring out social networking and apps and websites and wireless and Instagram and Vine and Pinterest and Flickr and Spotify and…I have a Facebook page and an email address, and I used to be hip & happenin’. The fact that I just typed hip & happenin’ puts me into a whole different category.

As I enter this phase of life – enter, who am I kidding – as I live in this phase of life, it is such an odd feeling to watch young moms deal with the same issues I dealt with as a young mom, although now their issues seem to be magnified with the addition of smart phones and Ipads and gaming systems and creepers who can steal identity and stalk online. But they still struggle to handle correct discipline and appropriate punishment and unity in decision-making with their spouse and communication issues and balancing work and fun and family time and bed time and consumerism and laundry day.

I like this phase of life when I can enjoy the things I enjoy and turn my nose up at the things I don’t. I like the same meals at the same restaurants. I like going to bed earlier. I don’t think it is particularly fun to go out on the town for late night music. At least not unless it’s really GREAT music, but that’s when those young professionals would quietly snicker behind my back and say, “Really?” when my choice for really great music would involve sitting down, not standing up, in a quiet venue rather than raucous.

I see how things are so very important to the younger generation, and so many are concerned with appearances and having the latest and greatest, and I remember those days and wince.  I also see how issues are so very important to some in the younger generation, so concerned with saving the planet and social justice and being a voice for a cause, and I smile.

I see how my Dad has begun to slow down and enjoy life rather than work his way through it. I see how very important family ties become as I begin to age and watch my Bingo friends silently ache for visits or phone calls or letters in the mail. I see how silently making fun of elderly people or overweight people who struggled to walk is not so funny anymore, now that I sometimes struggle myself. I see how the younger generation tends to leave out the older generation when it comes to music preferences in church, and it is much more of an issue for me now that my music preferences are not what the younger generation knows. I see how difficult it can be for an older person to participate in a crowd when the hearing is not what it used to be, now that my hearing doesn’t quite catch everything.

Perspective changes as you age. And the funny thing is, you won’t have this perspective until you live it. You can’t know what you don’t know.

I am grateful today for perspective, for being 50, for the sometimes wisdom to keep my mouth shut and let the younger generation figure it out as they live and experience. I am grateful for my comfort zone. I am grateful for the gift of looking back to see the younger generation try to figure it out, grateful for the example I have of an older generation who can still teach me so much as I live out this season. And I am grateful for the younger generation, the ones who are bright and intelligent and have a passion that is infectious, the ones that inspire me to be grateful, to live life with joy, to add a little whimsy and carry an attitude of “who cares what anyone else thinks?!”

It’s all about what chair you’re sitting in.

I am grateful that I grew up with such powerful songs on Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings, and Wednesday evenings. Train up a child in the way she should go and when she is old, she will not depart from it…

THIS is what begins my day and will stay with me throughout.

How marvelous, how wonderful, is my Savior’s love for ME.

Yesterday was my Dad’s birthday. It has been such a busy week. No excuse for not making the time to write my gratefuls, especially when I am grateful for so many things.

• Lunch with my Dad, my sister, and my niece, to celebrate Dad’s day
• Laughter and peace around the table
• White roses on the counter
• Silly Andrae stories
• Being asked to play the piano at church
• Having my Dad sitting next to me in the car as we drove to church
• Rain and a little bit of thunder
• Birds and squirrels entertaining at the feeder
• Natia found by decent neighbors
• Productivity at work
• Sweet moments in the mornings before Sam leaves for the day
• The privilege of hearing the adult choir sing for almost two hours
• Not having to wear fancy dressy clothes to work every day
• Silly grown-ups who put little possum creatures in a pack and bring them out for show & tell at the table in a restaurant for the rest of us to gawk at
• Hochevar back in the lineup
• Opportunities for Dad to begin finding his space and place in this town
• An abundance of tasks to accomplish before the weekend is over
• A husband who knows how to find German sweet chocolate for my recipe
• Colby Jack cheese
• My Dad and the fact that he is HERE now
• And this:

Every day at work, home, school, and play, God presents us with opportunities to be a blessing to people who may not be as nice to us as we deserve or desire. In the middle of these opportunities, He strengthens us and enables us to pay back good for evil. – Thelma Wells

It’s National Puppy Day today. I am grateful for puppies and grateful for people who adopt puppies and raise puppies to be decent dogs.

I am grateful for unmelted sugar at the bottom of the tea glass that happens to get sucked up into the straw.

I am grateful for breeze-blown curtains and open windows that allow for that, although we have no curtains. It’s a nice thought, though.

I am grateful for little girl Easter dresses.

I am grateful for walks with my best friend.

I am grateful for little bunny foo foo cookies baked and almost ready to send.

I am grateful for no more grouting.

I am grateful for clean floors, clean stairs, clean fireplace doors, clean shoes, a clean yard, and time after work to just sit and visit with my Dad after he has cleaned all day long. Which makes me very grateful for my Dad.

I am grateful for a bird feeder found and now hanging once again.

I am grateful for a great message at church yesterday.

I am grateful that Mom’s wedding dress is not lost.

I am grateful to be able to watch the Shockers once again this year excite and amaze. Rock, Shock, Jay, Hawk, K, WHO?

I am grateful for Mahogany Chiffon Chocolate Cake from Grandmommy and grateful that Angela requested it for her birthday.

And I am grateful that Sam likes to stop and talk to people and is so witty and quick with fun.

I am grateful for this devotion this morning. I have someone who is challenging in my life, and I needed to be disciplined today about how I handle my attitude. 

We all have people in our lives with whom we struggle. We may not name them “enemies”–we might call them challenging or difficult. And then there are those within and outside our country’s borders who stand against our nation, our way of life, our communities and even the Church, many of whom do not even know us personally.

So how do we handle “enemies”? What do we do? Let us look to the one who was and is the most grace-filled–the one who died to save all, even his enemies. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus teaches us the following law of love.

“You have heard that it was said, You must love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say to you,love your enemies and pray for those who harass you so that you will be acting as children of your Father who is in heaven. He makes the sun rise on both the evil and the good and sends rain on both the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love only those who love you, what reward do you have? Don’t even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing? Don’t even the Gentiles do the same? Therefore, just as your heavenly Father is complete in showing love to everyone, so also you must be complete.” (Matthew 5:43-48, Common English Bible)

Praying for our enemies or for those who harass us is powerful. Sometimes, it may help change those for whom we pray; but one thing is for sure–praying for our enemies will always help change us, the ones doing the praying. Through those prayers, God will soften our hearts and show us ways to love those challenging folks in our lives. Through those prayers, God will help us become more loving and caring to all, even to ourselves. Through those prayers, lives will be changed and wisdom will be gained. Through those prayers, we will continue to grow into the more complete, compassionate people God created us to be.

So may we love our enemies and pray for our enemies and show kindness to our enemies–not only to change them, but to change us. – Chris Holliday, Associate Minister, COR

It’s funny, because someone sent this note to me a few minutes ago, one that I also needed to hear:

We talked about his anger this weekend and that I thought watching so much [conservative news] was not healthy for him because it gets him so angry and full of hate for something he has NO CONTROL. He said that is what he prayed for in church, was to help him with his anger. I am trying to get him to see that talking about problems in the world, government, sports… just brings bad [thoughts and attitudes] that aren’t good for him or us. So we will see how he does but he seems to really be working on it.

Good lessons to start the week off right. I am grateful for lessons on Monday mornings.