I am all for real blessings this week.

My expectations are always out of whack during this week. Every November. And with out of whack expectations, anxiety and mild depression follows, topped by stress and crankiness.

I suppose some of it comes from memories of Thanksgivings past. Some of it comes from a fear of continued rejection. There are feelings of not being good enough, not having it all together, not knowing how to host a party the “right way.” I am a sucker for emotional commercials and TV shows and social media posts showing happiness and reunions and sweet music and laughter and all things beautiful and homey and lovely.

Always, the loneliness settles over me. I miss my mom. I miss my girls. I miss the chaos and noise of family get togethers and having my kids with me.

I fill this cavernous void with busy. Busy makes it feel more like a holiday week, but it also takes me back up to the top with the expectations, and the vicious cycle repeats itself.

We are preparing for a party this week. I have had to remind myself many times over to lower the expectations and get back to counting blessings, naming them one by one. That is, after all, the reason for our party.

I am grateful for a husband who cares just as much as I do about having a good party.

I am grateful for a sister who is playing “Mom” and hosting Thanksgiving this year.

I am grateful that half of our family will be together. 14 attending, 18 too far away and with other plans.

I am grateful that my Dad is among the 14.

I am grateful that we have gotten so much done on our new home, enough to be able to host a party.

I am grateful that Michelle is coming to command the operation again.

I am grateful that our home will be filled with some old, some new, some borrowed, and some blue, and hopefully, all vaccinated or masked to protect the one who needs to be safely shielded. We are very blessed to have a large circle to love.

And I am grateful that our friends don’t care. They don’t care that the sheetrock dust is still visible in places. They don’t care if we serve homemade or storemade. They don’t care if it is paper and plastic instead of china and fine linen. They don’t care if wires still show and walls are bare. They don’t care if the windows aren’t washed. They don’t care if the baseboards show paint and grout and the quarter round is missing. They don’t care that the dishes do not match the placemats do not match the napkins do not match the plastic cups. They don’t care if I burn a breakfast casserole. They don’t even care that I am an emotional head case this week.

The fact that they celebrate with us and allow us to show them how blessed we are to call them our friends and family, the fact that they accept our gratitude for being in our lives this year…THAT is what I am most grateful for…along with the fact that they don’t care.

That is a very real Rhonda blessing this week.

Our refrigerator arrives TODAY!

We HAVE a refrigerator – actually, it isn’t a refrigerator, it is a re-ator without the fridge because there is no “fridge” to it.

It is a very large silver box that has taken up space in our new kitchen since August. All new and shiny and looking beautiful on the outside – actually, it is shiny and beautiful on the inside too – it just doesn’t “fridge.” It arrived a few months ago and does everything except “fridge.”

There is something to be said for shiny and new and beautiful…but worthless.

Fortunately, when we were new to this home and ordered the appliances that then happened to be supply chain stuck, Sam bought an ugly old refrigerator to have in the garage and it is a good thing, because it has been our cold food storage for most of this year.

There is something to be said for ugly and old but dependable and hardworking.

So, I am grateful for our ugly and old and dependable and hardworking garage reFRIGerator, and I am also grateful that it is going to be spacious tonight because most everything will be moved inside. Old needs to rest and not work so hard and I promise to not neglect it – I will still need it quite often I am certain.

I am grateful for my office window so that I can look outside from time to time and see the gorgeous autumn.

I am grateful for a pretty rotten routine doctor appointment yesterday that included a scale slap-in-the-face. I knew I was big, I just didn’t know HOW big.

I am grateful for a huge water bottle and a Costco sized bag of celery here at work, and a husband who is feeling better enough to create a home-cooked dinner last night that was beyond healthy…to jumpstart me back to correct eating.

I am grateful for a new refrigerator-to-be….although the large, beautiful empty silver box has not contributed to my out-of-controlness, so I guess I am grateful for it, too.

And, I am grateful for unexpected guests in the form of black and furry, as long as they are on the other side of the door. This one, along with Banana and Split, provided a smile yesterday morning:

Sam is in pre-procedure status this early morning while I am delegated to the waiting room with all the other “drivers” and designated surgery waiters. 70’s soft rock plays in the background, glaring fluorescent lights overhead are the pre-dawn light, and nervous patients wait for their names to be called as they go over the pre-op paperwork.

I am grateful for the admissions cheerful wearing the Chiefs sweatshirt behind the plexiglass. She arrives at 5:30 am to greet those of us who arrive at 6 am, a little less cheerful.

I am grateful for the diversity in this room. Spanish is spoken on my left, French is spoken across the chairs, and I am guessing to my right I hear Hindi. Add in the mix of English, and it is a very pleasant, small world. We are all experiencing the same anxieties this morning.

I am grateful for a Monday morning to wear comfort clothes while I work in a waiting room.

I am grateful for a lightweight laptop that holds all my progress so I can work from anywhere.

I am grateful for Sam’s circle that prays, even for these less challenging procedures.

I am grateful for a brother and nephew who dropped everything to help move furniture for us yesterday.

I am grateful Sam loves to have fun and thought it was a priority to be home by 5 pm yesterday…because HALLOWEENERS, Rhonda. His big bowls of candy were ready by 3:30 pm, and he answered the door for every costume, excited to engage with the Harry Potters and football players and Minnie Mouses.

I am grateful the board shows he is now in his procedure and sleeping under the care of an anesthesiologist.

I am grateful for an internal visual of God’s palm, and Sam in the center of it.

I am grateful we no longer have 90 minute drives or 5 hour drives to face when medical issues arise.

And I am grateful the sun is beginning to light the morning and we will be headed home in just a few hours.

There is something that stresses me out like nothing else in this world.

I had to get behind my office desk today and unplug 14,247 cords, replace a faulty docking station, unravel the mess of cords and plug them all back in to the new machine, and then make sense of the tangled disaster back behind the three monitors in the 3 inch space between the desk and the wall.

All this, WHILE I was on the phone with TWO tech guys putting me under all this pressure to not act completely incompetent but I could feeeeeeel their eye rolls through the speakerphone and it caused me to stumble and doubt every cord and port (did I put that one in the wrong place?) and I was stepping on my backpack since I was in a tiny space between my desk and the corner tree and I probably smashed several very important backpack things and every instruction that came through the speakerphone caused MY eyes to roll and I could not believe that our tech guy could not just drop everything right then and there and come HELP me and take care of this job that is CLEARLY HIS and not mine.

I was SWEATING.

If it isn’t computer issues, it is TV issues when it comes to streaming and remotes and apps and access and throw in stereo receivers and bluetooth and screen mirroring.

Yesterday, I was on a video call with co-workers and our millennial sweet girl who works for the company that is redesigning our website. She is “holding our hands” with social media (don’t get me started but I am certain she eye rolls too) and we suggested she join our instant messaging “team” so we could discuss all the things more efficiently. She explained that her company uses Slack – WHAT IS SLACK – and then, this morning, my co-worker and I realized at that very moment, the two of us were instant messaging on THREE DIFFERENT PLATFORMS. AT THE SAME TIME. JUST THE TWO OF US. Microsoft Teams, Skype, and now our VoIP calling system.

Just typing all this language is making me sweat. Sweat, not swear, but if I were a swearer, I would be swearing. I am a sweater. Not a sweater sweater, a sweat-er.

Calgon take me away.

I’m OVER it.

I am grateful for a simple mind.

I am grateful for access to watch TV tonight, so what in the world am I doing on a computer after being on a computer all day.

I am grateful for bluetooth ear thingys so I can listen to my book while I walk.

I am grateful for tech guys who eye roll but try not to show it through their voice commands.

I am grateful for success after an hour and a half of sweating.

I am grateful for a clean desk and a set-up that is now fully functioning.

I am grateful for all the technology that makes my work life more…eh…efficient.

And I am grateful that I grew up in a time when there was none of this so that I know what it was like to have none of this.

How is this possible?

I was walking this morning and was thinking about our cats. I am so grateful for these two goofballs.

Split is very loved, given lots of affection, and is a valued member of our family.

However.

• Split needs to lose weight. She is plump and hungry, always.
• Split wants to exercise by chasing the fishing pole’s feather, but all over her face, it is like she is saying, “Eh, toooo much work.”
• Split has a unique shape – as Sam’s nephew describes it, she is a BREAD LOAF. (see picture above)
• Split likes attention, until she doesn’t.
• Split has RBF – if you don’t know what that is, it is short for “resting ‘angry woman’ face.” (also see picture above)
• Split is excited when Banana comes in from the outside and has to sniff and be close, but other times, she hisses and growls for no reason other than the fact that he is Banana.
• Split misses her cat mom, because she likes to “knead” her human mom…in the middle of the night.
• Split takes a backseat to Banana – his personality is just over the top and she isn’t sure how to shine in HIS spotlight.
• Split always loves to be with us and with Banana, she just has a “bubble” you don’t breach.

Banana is very, very loved, given even MORE affection than Split because he is easier to love and more social and ACCEPTS that affection, and he is a valued member of our family.

• Banana, as opposed to his sister, is just the right size.
• Banana is always hungry, but as it goes, his appetite does not seem to bother his waistline.
• Banana loves to be active and exercise and go, go, go, and his huffing and puffing after chasing the fishing pole feather does not phase him in the slightest.
• Banana will “pick up the phone and call” – he will let you know if you aren’t giving him enough attention.
• Banana loves people and he is happy always – his purr-er never stops.
• Banana loves to be with his friends and family outside: neighbor cats, (who happen to be his brother and sister), along with other cats and THE fox. Sometimes his friends don’t consider Banana their friend, but he knows no stranger.
• Banana always loves to be around Split and any other living/breathing creature, because he’s just an all-around good guy.
• Banana is an extrovert and loves to have conversation.

Hmmm.

Sam is Banana.

And…I am Split.

It is important to begin a day with the right mindset. I have learned that lesson well in these almost 40 years I have been an adult. The first thing I want to acknowledge when I wake up is the overwhelming gratitude for all God has given to me in spite of my failures.

I could wake up with dread over what the day holds, but how do I really know what the day holds. I could wake up with shame about how I acted the day before, but God has forgiven and allowed me to move on. I could wake up with sadness, anger, bitterness – circumstances and choices in my life that have left scars and pain, but God is within me, and that is enough to feel overwhelming gratitude.

Waking up. I am so grateful I wake up without the beeping of an alarm that jars one out of restful sleep. I now wake up to the quiet of the room…

It is a very pleasant sound. Before the sun rose, in the still of the early morning, as I slowly began to awaken, I heard a cat purr on my right side, and my husband laughing as he dreamt on my left side. That is a really nice way to begin a day. I am grateful.

I am also grateful that God has set in motion this pattern of minutes, hours, days – I KNOW that when I wake up, the sun will brighten the day and greet me on my walk. I also know that when the day is done, the sun will grant me a “good evening” and God will paint a beautiful landscape for the moon’s entrance, as well.

My laughing husband is working hard for a couple weeks as the family farm produces its fall crops and harvest is in full swing. I am so grateful he is cancer free and healthy to participate and help out. He has been able to see the sun rise and set each day in a place that is dear and familiar.

The day is now done for me. After a ten hours of work at my desk, I had enough reserved inside to walk a few more miles. Sounds in the evenings are different than in the pre-dawn: children having fun at the park, football guys leaving practice to head to the pizza place in small town USA for their pre-game meal, tired residents driving home after a challenging day of work, dogs barking as they see me walking by their domain, a couple riding their bikes and greeting me as they pass. I have a view of the western sky, but it is partially blocked by houses and streetlights and power lines. I do my best to watch the changing sky through the trees, but I can tell I am missing the majesty of it all.

That makes me walk faster.

I am grateful Sam left the fun car in the garage for me, just in case. I get back to the house, grab the key fob, and as fast as I carefully can, I back out and get to the edge of small town USA, just in time to capture one more gift.

It will make me smile in my sleep tonight…

Love is something if you give it away, give it away, give it away…

I am grateful Banana and Split like each other once again. It was questionable for a few days.

I am grateful for very roasted sunflower seeds and grateful I went downstairs when I did, or I wouldn’t be very grateful for them.

I am grateful for another week in small town USA.

I am grateful for 23 hours with nine grandchildren and my daughter.

Love is like a magic penny,
hold it tight and you won’t have any,
Lend it, spend it, and you’ll have so many,
they’ll roll all over the floor…

I am grateful for a really nice ending to a football game for once.

I am grateful that Sam is getting to spend so much time with his family and doing something he loves to do.

I am grateful for new cards to send.

Love Gratitude is something if you give it away,
give it away, give it away, oh,
Love Gratitude is something if you give it away,
you’ll end up having more.

I am grateful for chilly nights and good sleep.

And I am grateful for things to look forward to…

I met Orion this morning in the rock driveway before small town USA awoke. I looked up and he was there, just waiting for me to begin my walk. Almost every morning when I see him, my first thought is “Jeannine.” She was my walking partner ten years ago and we always look for Orion’s belt in the darkness before the dawn. My next thought is always…Mom. I wonder where Heaven IS, does she now have knowledge about the stars and planets, does she see me walking.

These mornings are difficult for me when the cat alarm is on my chest at 4:30 am and I slowly begin to wake for a 5:30 exit from the covers. My mind clears and has enough clarity to fight the awakening, and I spend 45 minutes or so counting my breaths to 100, taking each breath very slowly so I don’t have to get up.

But after I dress in the dark of the closet, brush my teeth, grab my phone and ear buds and head to the door, I am all in for a 5 mile, 1 hour+ walk…me, myself, and whatever I find to concentrate on as the sun begins to light the early morning.

As I walk in the darkness, I know I am not alone. Skunk has been frightened somewhere in small town USA and the remnants of his spray join my exercise as I make my way across the high school parking lot.

I pause in the wonderful story being narrated in my ear to take a picture of the silhouettes and at the same time, I wonder, “Why does all hospital food smell the same no matter what hospital cafeteria is cooking it?”

I continue on down the runway-like road and a work truck rattles by, smelling of metal and diesel, the unknown driver probably sipping his chilly morning hot coffee from his thermos. I know chilly morning hot coffee smell. It is the best part of waking up, after all.

Mile three finds me back in town, walking the streets and watching the dark windows slowly begin to light up within, lamps by bedside tables, kitchens brightened by the coffee makers and pourers.

Nothing jars me back to reality like dead carcass of some creature that met its demise. Fortunately for me, the only part of me that experiences dead carcass is my nose. My feet did not stumble over, my eyes did not see. But the nose knows.

I am grateful for the small town USA residents who like to do some housework in the dawn of day and throw in a dryer sheet as they finish up a load of laundry. It is the carcass odor eliminator that saves mile three.

Mile four is my time to worship once again. I pause the story and listen to the quiet morning as I stare at God’s GIFT and thank Him for it. I take this picture almost every morning, like it is the last time I might see such a sight. I ask Mom if she sees it, too.

Mile five is my “I can see the finish line” mile. Orion has faded for the day, the teachers and students are making their way to the school in dryer sheet pleasantness, and as the yellow bus goes by, I look up and laugh at the audience – they see the GIFT and have the best seats in the house.

And then, there it is. The finish line. My cheerleader of one has turned the lights on and is sitting on the side porch in this 34 degree morning, and as I walk up the drive, he is singing, “Swing low, sweet chariot…” and sipping on his own chilly morning hot coffee. Another GIFT.

I am so very grateful.

This is my music this morning.

After a busy and fun weekend with my boss friend at Big Cedar, I woke up this morning in my own bed, two purring cats spurring me to get up before I missed the opportunity.

This particular morning just feels like one long prayer. Moments of overwhelming gratitude and worship, moments of heartache and yearning for God’s healing touch.

I walked in the darkness and looked up at Orion and his belt, my companions in the early morning darkness. Thank you, God.

I thought about the weekend I had just experienced with my boss friend – how she pampered me and made me feel valuable and loved. She listens and understands. She makes me laugh and teaches me to appreciate. She stretches me. Thank you, God.

The vehicle did not cause me any trouble on my drive to and from SW Missouri. Thank you, God.

I made a new friend over the weekend. Thank you, God.

My husband worked so hard while I relaxed and enjoyed some fun, and when I returned home, he was there and showed me his handiwork in the form of new sliding pantry shelves. He then helped me move all the food to the shelves, and then he helped me turn the guest room and make a bed upstairs. He rarely slows down. He shows me how much he loves me by his handiwork in every corner of our home. He hugs me often. He tells me he loves me many times a day. He loves my family. And he is healed. Thank you, God.

Banana and Split were happy I returned home. Thank you, God.

The leaves are beginning to change colors and the sounds of crunch are once again music to my ears as I walk on fallen leaves. Thank you, God.

I am listening to a book that triggers some buried trauma but also reminds me how far I have come. “You led me through the fire in the darkest night.” Thank you, God.

I thought about my brother/sister-in-law’s message(s) yesterday and how my perspective has changed in the last year and a half that I have been blessed to be a part of their Quaker meeting. Thank you, God.

Yesterday, I received a heartbreaking message from my cousin that is a heartbeat “thup-THUP” thought and prayer now – Patricia and Kenny are my first thoughts, my middle thoughts, and my last thoughts as they begin a journey we know all too well. “You led me through the fire in the darkest night.” Thank you, God, because I know You will do this for them, too.

I got through the first 3 miles and turned to head back east. His gift was breathtaking: the sliver of moon above a horizon of early morning rainbow, dotted with clouds that would soon become a brilliant pink. I had to stop the words of my book that were keeping me company as I walked. I needed the silent awe for worship and to recognize the moment and the gift. Thank you, God.

The song says it all today. All my life He has been faithful and has been so, so good to me – there have been more times than not that I have been unlovable and unworthy of his goodness to me. But even in those times, God has run after me and has not let me go, and He has blessed me more than I can ever begin to acknowledge.

With every breath that I am able, I am going to sing of the goodness of God.

Have you noticed the trend in cars these days? Sam pointed it out to me or I would have been oblivious as usual. Cars no longer have bumpers or fenders. Huh. Didn’t notice.

Bumpers and fenders are like bubble wrap. Protection for the real deal.

I thought about that this morning on my 5 mile walk in the glorious chilly September air. I have plenty of bubble wrap protection for the real deal. I am just trying to walk that bubble wrap off, so I too can be like a shiny new car, all bumperless and fenderless.

At the end of this day, I am grateful for the hunger pangs – is it pangs or pains? – that are my reminder I can be hungry and still be okay.

I am grateful for the beginning color change of the leaves. It is barely, but I see it.

I am grateful Sam knows how to install a light. I can hang the crystals, but he knows how to do the real deal. That has absolutely nothing to do with bumpers and fenders and bubble wrap, except for the fact that it was surrounded in bubble wrap and styrofoam.

I am grateful for streetlights to pave my way in the darkness.

I am grateful for Orion and his belt that look down on me as I circle the cul-de-sac to the tune of sprinklers and crickets and early birds.

I am grateful for walks in the mostly dark, since I have bubble wrap and not cute walking clothes.

I am grateful for a Banana alarm clock, complete with whiskers and annoyance.

And finally, I am grateful for a trail to walk in the middle of the day across the street from work. I don’t care where the bubble wrap falls off, as long as it falls off.