Posted by on Jun 28, 2013 in Reflections | 2 comments

“As the years pass, I am coming more and more to understand that it is the common, everyday blessings of our common everyday lives for which we should be particularly grateful. They are the things that fill our lives with comfort and our hearts with gladness — just the pure air to breathe and the strength to breath it; just warmth and shelter and home folks; just plain food that gives us strength; the bright sunshine on a cold day; and a cool breeze when the day is warm.” 

― Laura Ingalls Wilder, Writings to Young Women from Laura Ingalls Wilder – Volume One: On Wisdom and Virtues 

 

 

“You know what the best day ever would be, Mama?” Mary asked me the other morning as we snuggled in my bed listening to a thunderstorm.

“I don’t know. What?”

“If we were at a store and there was a crowded shelf with a sign that said ‘Everything On this Shelf is Only $2.00′ and then we searched through all the old broken toys on that shelf till at the very back we found a brand new American Girl Doll.”

“That would be pretty awesome,” I agreed.

 

 

Hidden treasures are that much more special because we must work to uncover them. They don’t light up and yell in your face, “HERE I AM!” One has to be actively searching to spy a gem in the midst of debris, or goodness in the midst of chaos. Gratitude for “common everyday blessings” is like a muscle I must exercise regularly in order to strengthen.

 

 

As the years pass, I too am coming to find all meaning and hope in the quiet smallness of the present moment. I think ahead these days less than ever, choosing instead, for the sake of peace, to plant myself in the now.

In the now, I have access to patience. In the now, tomorrow cannot overwhelm me. In the now, I have eyes to see the image of Christ in everyone, the mercy of Christ in everything, and the needs of others within my home and community. 

In the now, when I go to kiss my sleeping daughter and find her covers are scrunched down at the end of her bed and her head has fallen off her pillow, there is immense satisfaction in pulling those blankets back over her, replacing her head on the pillow and watching her snuggle in, all tranquil and content. 

In the now, I am terribly thankful for what I have, where I am, and who I am by the grace of God – quirks and all.

In the now, I am courageous and malleable.