The Day I Hate The Most (and finding gratitude anyway)

Tuesday November 23, 2010

It happened just the other day. I finish a hard day teaching school and make my way toward home. I open the front door, my school bag full of papers in one hand and the day’s mail in the other. I step in and look up, and …

…everything is everywhere.

Then I remember. My husband rented a carpet cleaner this morning.

I should be thankful, right? And yes, I am – somewhere down deep. But right now, I feel like a butterfly with no where to land, a bird with no nest, a book with no shelf. You get the idea.

I’m no neat freak, but my chaos is controlled. And when my boys were little, those pockets of chaos overflowed, but I always had my islands of calm.

Those islands were a few spots in the house where no toys were allowed. I kept those spots picked up, neat, and reasonably free from clutter. I could go there and sit for a moment, pretending the rest of my house looked like that.

But now? I look around, and I have to turn sideways to squeeze past chairs. I can’t seem to find a place to light!

Then I remember…this is temporary. By tomorrow sometime, the carpets will be dry and beautiful, and everything will eventually get moved back into place.

Of course there’s a blessing, some gratefulness, a silver lining. I just have to get past my momentary frustration.

I’m finding it easier to find that thankfulness these days. I’ve been blogging and thinking and writing about gratitude for the entire month, and I’m finding it’s on the tip of my tongue.

The gratitude is much closer to the surface. Much easier to unwrap.

So I look around once more and smile as I shake my head. It’s easy to be grateful when I remember what this scene was like when four little boys followed me into the house – toys out of place, nowhere to sit, electronic gadgets unhooked and moved. Good thing we live in Florida. I’d turn and say, “Drop your backpacks and spend some time outside, guys.”

So I’m grateful. For those days, for these days, for ever-present gratefulness, and for a husband who cares about my carpet. Linking up with Tuesdays Unwrapped, celebrating the small things.

What can you celebrate today?

Back to the Days of Dad

Thursday November 18, 2010

I reach deep into the closet and pull it out with reverence. It’s plaid, lightweight cotton but it warms my heart beyond measure.

I used to hold it up and drink in the scent. Years would fall away, and I’d hear my dad call me Babe. For the longest time it smelled like him, somehow. No cheesy cologne, no overpowering scent…it just smelled like him.

I was sad when the scent faded, but his essence is still there. I wear it in November and December mostly. Its plaid fits the holidays, but more than that, it puts me in the mind of memory…and, for me, memory is filled with family. November and December are fraught with memory, so that is the shirt’s perfect season.

As I pen words about gratitude this month, I’m struck by the power of the senses. Smell and touch take me back to the days of Dad – his unconditional love, his overwhelming support of all I did and wanted to be. His strong faith, his godly example.

Excuse me a minute. I need to go hug a shirt. And maybe use it to wipe a few tears away.

Do the senses trigger a memory for you? Or remind you of a blessing?