Thanksgiving 2010

I have so much love in my life.  Which means I have so much to be thankful for.  I am blessed far more than I deserve...

I love my husband.  I love waiting by the peephole in the door, because I am so excited for him to get home.  I love doing life with him.  I love when he jumps on the bed, takes out the trash, and lets me chose the record we listen to during dinner.  I love waking up early in the morning, weather it is to eat a bowl of pumpkin oatmeal and then go back to bed, or to go for a run before the sun comes up.  I love Neenah, and my family.  I love watching Mike make his dad laugh over the stupidest jokes.  I love being surround by my family full of boys, cooking for them, and being amazed by how much they can eat.  I love the daily reminders of my mom.  I love learning about grace through sorrow.  I love good books, sweaty yoga classes, and expensive coffee.  I love the quiet moments, the moments when I am still enough to hear God, and humble enough to listen.  I love being able to laugh, then cry, then laugh again.  I love the path that the Lord has placed me on.  Despite all my fears and frustrations, He always shows me that his plan is better.  I am so thankful.

On being thankful

On this Monday leading up to Thanksgiving, I want to leave you with a small passage from the book "The  Holy Wild" by Mark Buchanan that I came across while doing some reading.  This simple story stopped me in my tracks and forced me into prayer.

In a little dirt-floored church on Sunday evening in Uganda, the village pastor asked if anyone had anything they wanted to share.  A tall, skinny African woman from the back danced to the front.  "Oh, brothers and sisters, I love Jesus so much," she said.  "Tell us, sister! Tell us!" the Ugandans shouted back.  "Oh, I love Him so much, I don't know where to begin.  He is so good to me.  Where do I begin to hell you how good He is to me?"  "Begin there, sister!  Begin right there!"  "Oh, He is so good.  I praise Him all the time for how good He is.  For three months, I prayed to Him for shoes, and look!"  And with that the woman cocked up her leg so that we could see one foot.  One very ordinary shoe covered it.  "He gave me shoes."  The Ugandans went wild.  They clapped, they cheered, they whistled, they yelled.  But not me.  I was devastated.  I sat there broken and grieving.  In an instant, God snapped me out of my self-pity and plunged me into repentance.  In all my life, I had not once prayed for shoes.  It never even crossed my mind.  And in all my life, I had not even once thanked God for the many, many, shoes I had.

Jesus, give me a heart like the Ugandan woman, quick to praise You, and quick to humble myself. 

I would like:

a mini muffin tin
new SmartWool socks
an old, weathered, dining room table
angel food cake with fresh strawberries
a kitten

That is all for now.

Faces of Beauty

I am so excited to have my first writing piece published on a site that is doing some awesome things.  Check out facesofbeauty.org to read my take on what makes me beautiful!

http://facesofbeauty.org/