thankful thursday #204

I'm working in Starkville this weekend. Do you know this Mississippi State football team is ranked #1 in the country right now? Mercy, I did not think I'd live to see the day.

In my six years of living and working there, I don't think they ever won more than 3 games in a single season. Those were dry bones seasons if I ever knew them.

I've shared it before, but some of the people in that town are some of the dearest I've ever known. I'm thankful to go back there and hug them again, and to remember the Lord's faithfulness to me there, through the people he placed so carefully in my path.

In particular, there is one soul I thought of recently, in a passing moment of gratitude. I wanted to call him to tell him how much he meant to me.

I made a note on my weekly to-do list, and I neglected to call him. And felt guilty about it, per usual.

Instead, I'm thankful for the chance this weekend to tell him in person. Sometimes a message delivered face-to-face can be the sweetest ones.

Tell someone this weekend how they've impacted you for good. Go on, be grateful!

thankful thursday #203, on a tuesday

(Because I'm just behind. For no good reason, behind.)

About nine months ago, I began a transition into a new church.

These nine months have been riddled with heartbreak, loss, dread, awkward new-person moments, stepping out, goodbyes and hellos, grieving, and on and on.

The process is not near complete, but on the bright side, it's nine months further along than it was nine months ago. There is solace in that.

Maybe my favorite hymn is "Come Thou Fount, of Every Blessing," and its second verse starts out like this:

Here I raise my Ebenezer; hither by thy help I'm come ...

It references the story from 1 Samuel 7, when following a victory over the Philistines, Samuel placed a stone at the physical place of remembrance and called it Ebenezer, which means stone of help in Hebrew.

In all seriousness, and in the spirit of gratitude, it has been a cherished time to reflect on my own faith journey, and on the stones placed along the path that remind me of the Lord's help and provision.

In the midst of the hard, I'm feeling thankful for my own Ebenezers this week. How about you? Go on, be grateful!

thankful thursday #202

Fall's here. Glory be.

I went crazy on some fall porch bling. (Did you know pumpkins en masse get expensive? I know this now.)

Look at that Great White pumpkin. He's a monster. I might have thrown my back out getting him in just the right position (and he's probably still not).

The mums are fun, too. Given my track record with green-thumbing, they might last until the end of the month.

And these minis.

They might be my favorites.

I'm thankful that fall's here, and for all the bling she brings.

Are you relieved at the cooler temps? Go on, be grateful!

thankful thursday #201

In a span of the past week, I saw three movies in the theater. This never happens. Prior to that, I might have been to the theater three times in the past 12 months.

One of the movies was The Good Lie, the inspired true story of refugees orphaned during the Civil war of Sudan in 1983. It follows their long journey on foot to a refugee camp, their long wait to be given a second chance in the United States, and their long process of assimilation here fifteen years later.

I'm the first to confess to being a sap over a movie with inspirational undertones. Characters who overcome hardship, they get me every time.

During The Good Lie, the ugly girl cry happened. Couldn't be contained. I felt sick about the injustice endured by the Sudanese in their own country, but watching their struggles in a foreign land -- the land of the home and the brave -- it was too much.

I was guilt-ridden over my life of abundance, safety, and comfort. And embarrassed at how distant and detached we are as a nation from those less fortunate.

Lord, give us gratitude for where we are, and hearts to see those who hunger and thirst for the things we have and yet so easily forget.

See this movie. You won't have a choice but to go on and be grateful.

i visited little man last weekend

This guy.

He chooses Sundays to be all hipster. On the rest of the days, it's more likely you'll find him running around in sweat pants and a t-shirt, if he's wearing pants at all.

He gets the camera thing. He's good at showing his teeth.

I'm sort of smitten. But, you know. I don't have to deal with the temper and sass.

Goodness, he loves his dad. No matter that he slings him around like a rag doll.

And wide open spaces to run.

There's energy to be spent, and an empty ball field is a fine space to do it.

He found a baseball and played a little catch with his dad.

He gets tickled and it's my favorite laugh he's got.

In general, it's just good to be three.

a day in the (travel) life

"A traveler without observations is a bird without wings."

-- Moslih Eddin Saadi



My alarm sounds at 5:15 a.m. I wake up at 5:15 at least three mornings a week, but it's harder this morning. It's harder every time I'm dragging myself out of bed for a day of travel.

I back out of my garage well before the sun rises, and my neighbor is heading out to work. Per usual, he greets me like good neighbors do. He's getting married in a few months and will move out of his house. It's too bad, because he's the best neighbor ever. Polite, generous, helpful to the girl next door, and to the elderly woman who lives two doors down.

At the airport, I'm frustrated with the parking deck construction. I always park on Level 5. The routine of that ensures I will remember where my car is. But this morning there is no room, so I go to Level 7. I always pick odd numbers, so it's the next best option. As it turns out, Level 7 is the uncovered rooftop parking, and I hope for a second it won't be raining when I return home Sunday.

The security line is uneventful. I'm an efficient traveler, because I don't want to be that girl in the security line who needs five bins for her belongings. My shoes are easy to slip on and off, I don't have liquids, gels or laptops to remove from my bag, and I don't wear a belt on travel days. In and out. Smooth.

At the gate, I settle in and note a weather delay on the screen. I have some cushion on my layover, so I'm not concerned about my connection. A lady next to me strikes up a conversation with me; she is from Wisconsin and has been here working for ten days. She is gracious and tells me she enjoyed her time in this city where I live.

As our departure time continues to be delayed, the passengers are irritable and anxious. As if air travel isn't stressful enough. I feel such compassion toward the gate agents as they listen to every one of the traveler's complaints and rebook them on new flights. I do not envy them.

The lady from Wisconsin seems trustworthy enough, so I ask her to watch my bag. Is that naive? Maybe. It's too early in the morning to care.

There is a young couple nearby, maybe early 20s, trying to get to Lansing, Michigan. I know this because they talk loudly, and make a production over the delay. They take ridiculous selfies and SnapChat with contacts. I cringe at the immaturity of it all.

Our delay creeps to 90 minutes and then approaches two hours when we begin to board. I usually wait to board last, because I don't need overhead bin space (it's another key to low-stress travel), but this morning I uncharacteristically inch my way into the Zone 2 mass. It's seemingly the entire plane. Am I unknowingly cutting the line? I don't know. I assume someone will huff aloud if I am.

I scan my boarding pass bar code that's on my iPhone screen (I feel so tech savvy), and pat the gate agent on the arm with a wish for a better afternoon.

On the flight, I don't initiate conversations, per usual, but I'm happy to oblige the young physical therapist next to me who is traveling to New Mexico. Her grandmother lives there, and they are going to a hot air balloon festival. Interesting, I think to myself, and what a good memory to make.

The captain informs us we have to taxi back to the gate to "close the cap" of something-or-other on the plane. Oh, to just take off will be glorious. The man next to me sighs an audible "crap" at that announcement. I spot his boarding pass for the next flight, and he will make his flight without issue. I can't sympathize with him, because I may not make mine.

We land, mercifully, and everyone is frantic to get off the plane. A toddler two rows ahead of me stands on her mom's lap and pushes the attendant call button. I smile to myself, her mom unaware.

I race through the Atlanta airport, jogging sometimes and running up the escalator, only to find this flight is also delayed. Again, I settle into one of the uncomfortable chairs at the gate, and send a couple of text messages to friends who are on my mind.

We board late. This captain tells us we have been "over-fueled" by what seems like an alarming amount. 1200 pounds. How does that happen? The crew announces we must de-fuel, and so we wait on the plane for another hour or so while we unload the 1200 pounds of fuel.

It occurs to me that I probably won't arrive in time to pick up Little Man from school.

It's a good chance to text friends again. I want them to know I think about them randomly throughout the day. And if I'm honest, it passes the time, too. My bestie makes me chuckle out loud once. I don't care what people think about that.

It is freezing on the plane. The man next to me pokes me in my right arm to point out to me the vapors of the air that billow underfoot. He works a crossword puzzle, and I remember my Mimi and her love for those. She sought assistance from these crossword dictionaries that, when I was old enough, understood them to be straight-up cheat tools.

I order hot tea from the nicest flight attendant ever. She smiles even when she's not interacting with anyone. It's a gift, I think. She's in the right business. I burn my tongue on the first taste and think as I do every time I sip hot tea, Why do I do this every time?

Our wheels touch down and for at least a little while, my travel ends. Until I approach the rental car counter.

right about now (the one to kick off my favorite season)

This weekend's maybe the first that'll really feel like fall. I thought it a good time to report in on the nonsense going on in my world, right about now.

loving: these new living room chairs. I searched high and low for these two (as I did for this guy), and I'm so pleased. They are cozy, inviting, and perhaps best of all, they swivel.

They give guests the option to be a part of the living space, or the dining space, whichever they prefer. And I've been known to spin them to face each other and create a little chaise for myself. I appreciate their versatility.

reading: The book of Esther. I've never read it with much intentionality, so this slow read has been a good chance to linger in the emotions and drama of that story. Because I don't love emotions and drama in my own life.

excited about: Seeing this guy for the weekend!

missing: This view from last weekend.

Majestic, isn't it?

trying to: get a jump on Christmas shopping. The convenience of online shopping is never more glorious than while Christmas shopping. In October.

enjoying: this little single-serve blender, for smoothies and shakes.

All the goodness blends up right into a to-go cup with a lid, and you've got only one thing to wash. Brilliant. A solid $15 purchase on sale from Target.

wearing: the same gold earrings every day. I need an intervention. By a stylist.

planning: meals like a crazy person. I've made some significant tweaks to my eating habits the past few weeks, and wowsers, is it challenging.

singing: Christmas tunes already, in preparation for an Advent concert. It's weird. Every year, it's weird. 

needing: a fall craft. And when I say "craft," I mean maybe a pumpkin arrangement for my porch. That's about what I feel capable of these days.

learning: how to embrace some subtle changes.

listening: all the time to the Sam Cooke Pandora station. Oh my goodness, they are such great oldies, and the perfect backdrop to a dinner in with friends.

wishing: that fall weather would show up, stat. I'm dying to wear this vest from Target.

Target. So much to be enjoyed there.

praying for: discernment to more readily see the Lord's fingerprints in my every day.

How about you? Anything exciting going on right about now, in this first week of the very fine month of October?

thankful thursday #200

Guys. Two hundred posts of Thankful Thursdays.

I imagine all that gratitude bottled up, and it feels like it should be a lot. Enough to make a difference over time. Enough to make gratitude flow more easily.

But there are still days when it's hard to feel thankful. Not because it's been such a hard week (sometimes it has been, but "hard" is so relative anyway), or because I live such a disenchanted life (I don't), but just because my flesh may never default to the spirit of gratitude. It may just always be work. I don't know.

In any case, I travel tomorrow to see Little Man, and that is always a reason to be thankful. Thankful for work travel that occasionally morphs into family time. For real face time with my flesh and blood who don't live close. And if I'm lucky enough for him to sit still for a hot second, for the opportunity to snap some pics.

If you're struggling to feel thankful, think of the bottled reserve. Go on, be grateful!