Just keep counting, counting, counting...

I'm not naturally optimistic, mostly a realist, I think. An optimistic realist maybe? Looking on the bright side of things has taken some serious mind and heart training for me. Hubs is an eternal optimist, and sometimes it drives me nuts. His optimism pushes me to think differently and pulls me out of my occasional doldrums.

This counting though...this has put me over the edge. My outlook on life is directly related to my counting of the gifts. So, Mr. Grumpy Gills, when life gets you down, you know whatcha' gotta' do? Just keep counting, just keep counting, just keep counting, counting, counting....what do we do? We count!

146. friends who can be trusted with the hardest conversations

147. the wonders of technology allowing us to chat even though we're half a world from one another!

148. having to let my prayers hug when my arms can't

149. Hubs unloading the dishwasher again and again

150. Monkey's little sayings...many having to do with poop

151. really healthy boys...Gator is 4'7" and 81 lbs; Bull is 4' and 50 lbs; Monkey is 3'1" and 33 lbs!

152. being excited about a study

153. new friends

154. OAMC - I only spent 15 minutes in the kitchen tonight prepping dinner!

155. looking forward to redeeming my birthday present - a massage and facial - tomorrow night!

156. learning life in a new place

157. getting used to having Hubs home

158. being comforted after a nightmare

159. remembering that it's alright to miss familiarity

160. knowing that familiarity will grow

Have you ever had a good day?

"Have you ever had a good day?" 


His words pierced me. The eldest of my blessings was wondering if I had ever had a good day. Embarrassed and bewildered by his question, I answered in the overwhelming affirmative. However, I realized how my ingratitude had taken a toll on my family. 

The last months of the deployment and the first few weeks of Hubs being home had been tougher than I wanted them to be. I was so weary. Nothing particularly bad happened, but I had struggled to find the good. Ann Voskamp calls this the hard eucharisteo. I only focused on the hard and forgot about the thanksgiving....the thanks-living. 

Someone once told me that his wife set the tone for their home. I realized then that this was certainly the case for our home. Yet I have failed to show my children how to be grateful for the seemingly inconsequential, the simple things, as well as the big evidences of grace. 

Thinking that I had so poisoned my home with my ingratitude broke my heart in two. 

And so, with his words echoing in my mind, I chose differently that day and most of the days since. I work without (much) complaining. I (mostly) enjoy the simple and mundane. I (generally) keep a good attitude. I even have a little bit of fun. 

I reap what I sow. I have GOOD days. 

And I am sure to tell my deep thinker, too. 

a constant reminder at the end of my hallway

Counting the gifts...


66. Bull's incredible curiosity of late

67. answering lots of questions

68. an understanding husband

69. running for the first time in a long time

70. my foot doesn't hurt!

71. watching my blessings choosing to bless others through World Vision

72. Monkey's incredibly cute mischief

73. Gator's Spirit-led question

74. counting His gifts once again

75. a better-than-expected house

76. an easy transition

77. seeing familiar faces in unexpected places

78. reminders of good friends spread throughout my new house

79. a hot shower, a lock on the bathroom door, and a loud bathroom fan
80. a home that fits our extended family

81. being closer to family

82. good friends who send unexpected e-mails

83. music

84. new friends for the boys

85. hugs before friends deploy

86. friends to support like I was supported

87. our new chapel home

88. PWOC tomorrow! 

89. Hubs' new dream job

90. my life

Happy Fourth of July!

Today, I am thankful for freedom bought for me by the sacrifice of One and of many.

We miss you, my love! We are so proud of you!

Multitudes on Mondays

As we traveled over the last three weeks, I shared a room and sometimes a bed with my sons. None of them share nicely while sleeping, but one in particular (the one with whom I'm usually paired) is particularly greedy. You see, from birth, he has always been a cuddler. He naturally gravitates to the source of warmth in a shared bed. Usually, that's his brother. But on a handful of nights, it was me. As any mother can tell you, sleep is a valuable commodity. It's easy for me to be annoyed by this behavior, especially when I am travel-weary. Sharing a bed with this one can be painful. At the very least it's uncomfortable!

Really, it mirrors my relationship with him. He is the one who stretches and pushes me as a parent. He challenges me at my very core. He is passionate and physical. He needs me to be intensely calm. All too often, I allow his intensity to spin me out of control. But if I meet his depth of passion with the same depth of gentleness, he settles.

So, as he batters against me while he dreams - his arm across my chest (which barely missed my cheek), his knee in my side (just left of my kidney), and his sweet cheek on my shoulder - I'm reminded to be a firm and calm presence in his life, a rudder of sorts, helping him to navigate the thrashing and tossing to which he is prone.

#71-82 of the gifts of sleeping close to my sons for nearly three weeks

- sweet sleeping lips
- soft snores

- the oldest one still wanting me when he's scared

- the smell of the second one's hair

- a big enough bed
- a bed not empty

- mumbling as they dream

- big beautiful eyes staring at me when I awake
- being the first thing they see when they awake
- sleepy smiles and big stretches
- hands of the smallest one reaching up to me
- the reminder that others (two families particularly close to my heart) would give anything to see their little ones sleep again