Gratitude
Please excuse my several day absence. I was able to unapologetically slow my clock and bask in the smiles and laughter of all of my abundant blessings that call me wife, sister, daughter, mom, and nana. Thanksgiving truly was beautiful, and I am grateful that I enjoyed it without chemo side effects or any pain or discomfort.
Isn't it unfortunate tho that it usually takes something catastrophic to jolt us into the presence of mind to realize that each of our moments are truly presents/gifts? I've been thinking a lot about that and thinking of the times that I was "too busy" and how none of that busyness is really what we are supposed to be doing with all of our moments.
Sometimes doing life really does get in the way of truly living. And that fact, and all the messaging that tells us, all of our lives, to do, achieve, and get or have more and more really make me sad.
So many moments ticked away...
So much time in the rear view...
So many glimpses of God blurred as we whirl right on by.
So... Today, I'm thankful.
Thankful that this cancer has allowed me introspection and pause. Yea I know I can't really believe I just said I was thankful for anything "cancer", but I did and I am.
I'm grateful that it has made me notice plain ol' everyday sunsets again.
I am thankful that it has attuned my ears to hear the pitter patter of raindrops over the cacophony of our "humanized version of life."
I am grateful for my kids, my husband, my family, my friends...those strangers who I encounter along the way, and a million of other things in between.
I also, most of all, appreciate that this season in my life has made me run to Our Father's feet to find comfort, guidance. peace, and hope. Truthfully, I am a bit ashamed of how far from that place and position I had drifted, even though I would have considered myself an avid believer prior to getting the diagnosis.
I hope I don't ever go back to the way I was before the day that cancer and I intersected.
There is a picture of my youngest daughter at the beach when she was younger that I have always loved. She is my beach girl. I can say without question that she fell completely in love with everything about the ocean. The moment her little toes hit the sand, her arms would automatically extend, her little head would tilt up, her eyes would close, and she would just stand there beaming. I asked her one time what she was doing, and she responded, "hugging my ocean."
Imagine if this is how we all ran into each of our tomorrows. What could God do in spaces where we wake up and as soon as our toes hit the floor we outstretched our arms, tilted our head adoringly up to him, closed our eyes, and with all abandonment of "our plan" we simply just hugged the heck out of the gift of the day.
In fact, why just imagine? We are all standing in miracles. So, join me, lets hug us some today...
*stands, outstretches arms, tilts head up, closes eyes...*
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