This is my first Monday blog post dedicated to being thankful. Last Thursday’s blog post explained 1000 gifts, so read that first, if you want to. Then join your own thanks to mine–on your blog, in your own private list, or in the comments here.
Now it’s my turn to continue counting 1000 gifts that my Lord and Savior has given me…
#11. The sunshine that we got to enjoy over the weekend.
#12. Today’s rain
#13. Something very specific and special about my dh. God knew what He was about when He brought us together.
#14. The music on the 1000 gift website that is inspired and beautiful and peaceful and just makes me want to rest in God’s presence.
#15. Moments in the night when I felt His presence
#16. Yesterday’s worship
#17. The self-discipline in schoolwork that my children have learned
#18. God’s quiet whispers that I am struggling to hear
#21. God’s favor, though I’m still waiting to discover its full meaning
#22. My littlest brother who, for some inexplicable reason, loves to listen to me talk, and never seems to get tired of Internet chatting with me
#23. The way my daughter would rather read snuggled up against me than anywhere else
#26. Mom Mom
#27. Melting icicles
#28. The $5 blanket that is wrapped around my shoulders
#30. The poem Ann started her own 1000 gifts post today with. I hope she doesn’t mind if I share it:
do not let anything keep you
from flinging out into the streets
to pant it in the marketplace
the back alleys, the front fields,
across the crackling wires
that you have seen, yes, you have seen,
and with these very eyes,
and you hear it even now, how
the rocks cry out
and you cry it too, stammering it, stumbling it
into every willing ear
that you opened your eyes one day and ran right into Him
and He ravishes and He kisses wounds and He serenades
and Beauty has branded you,
marked you with awe
and awe is why I grab the pen and I make the record,
and Beauty is why I scratch it down late, day after day,
and He makes the pulse race and brushes the tear clear and cups the life tender
and this is why I hurtle over the high fear
and disparaging words can’t keep me and splaying shortcomings can’t keep me and illness, work, obligations can’t keep me,
and He is my blaze and He is my burn and and I cannot be muzzled because what can separate from Him and the telling once the eyes have seen?
Could there be anything greater than this,
the bearing witness
to the sighting?
I give testimony.
And I cannot