I’ve been having trouble finding time to type up my gratitude journal. Here’s what I’ve scribbled on a napkin lately.
Gifts that make my life worth living,
gifts that make my moments holy.
Not gifts that I wish for
but gifts that I have received.
Gifts that bring me back
into Joy and Gratitude.
bags of apples and piles of pumpkins set neatly by the road to sell
firewood stacked and ready for winter
a young face scarred with past troubles, now alight with the love of Christ
the stones of a barn foundation, set in place a century ago by a master craftsman
red, yellow, and green leaves, all on the same tree
a baby’s laugh
a field of pumpkins, windrowed into orange columns
jalapeño jelly on toast
a tunnel cut through the trees for power lines
the turrets of a “castle” hidden in the woods
sunlight sparkling on coppery hair
a barn with hay bales towering to the rafters
weeping willow trees bowing their faces to the ground, their skirts swaying gently in the breeze
root beer floats
yellow mums raising sunny faces to a gray and glowering sky
a long phone chat with probably my oldest and best friend ever
drinking apple cider that my son just pressed
the quiet friends who never make a splash, but are always there