Truly I believe that there is a season for everything, but I also believe that every day calls for time for gratitude. After an intense season of waiting (oh, and we’re not done yet!), there are more and more signs that I need to pause and give thanks at least daily.
Often, I have to admit, my thanks don’t come until I finally lay in bed, offering my genuine prayers from a tired body. The gratitude, the thanks with which I begin my prayers, surrounds me. I am comforted and renewed, and in this calm and peaceful state, I drift to sleep before I know it.
More often than I probably realize, I am aware enough in my waking hours to realize just how many gifts surround me. For my senior year in high school, I gave my closest friends a poster with 365 of my favorite things written around a picture of me with the recipient. I made one for my then-boyfriend, now-husband, too. The blessings of this life are not lost on me, but I could certainly be more aware.
A friend recently recommended a book called One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. Ann has a blog, A Holy Experience, that got her started, I believe. Her story is rich with her faith and ties into scripture. Her poetic writing and sense of awareness speaks to a side of me that sometimes feels and gets neglected. She’s unabashedly intense and devoted. A kindred I haven’t even met.
Whatever our faith tradition, gratitude speaks deeply and as sweetly as the five-year-old speaking “I love you, Mom” into my ear.
Oh, let me count the ways.