At the beginning of spring, I started reading Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts. Her words painted vivid, rich pictures of how the act of living is transformed when it's drenched in gratitude. I started a list of things I was grateful for, abandoned it, started it again. I recently found it tucked inside one of my books.
Whether I'm writing them down or not, I am still counting. always.
I'm grateful for the way the leaves always return to the trees, every spring, this newness of life. For my nieces and nephews, who challenge me to be the kindest, most creative version of myself every day. These small ones have taught me more about love than I could have imagined.
I'm grateful for hot coffee, and long road trips, and friends worth driving hours to see. Friends who trade stories over old songs and street light memories. For the memories. For this season, for this whole year, of waiting and learning and trusting that the Giver is abundantly good. For the light that slants through my windows every morning, a reminder that today is another of his gifts. For people who take me as I am, people whom I love and am better for it. For you, and for today, and for the million other ways I could keep counting. Let us be found grateful.