41. The Present Moment

If I name at least 52 things of gratitude per year, I will finish this project in 7 years. 39 more days until this first year is complete, and I haven't met my goal. My biggest regret is missing the month of July entirely. Apparently, abundance does involve gratitude!

In this moment, I am abundantly blessed. The future looks lean. The future looks fat. 7 years of this; 7 years of that. 

Travis literally begged me to lay with him while he went to sleep tonight. He couldn't wait for me to throw in a load of laundry; he was drifting and didn't want to miss out. 

As I laid there with my eyes closed, I felt the comfort of that bed with a roof over my head and a belly full of vegetarian dinner. (No, that is not an oxymoron.) I am grateful for the present moment of abundance of love, comfort, and safety. 

Tomorrow is another day and who knows what might happen. The roof might spoil, the food might be gone, and the bed might cave in. Unless it doesn't.

40. Teachers

As the end of the school year winds down, I begin my prayers for next year's teacher picks. The request for next year is a difficult one with the budget cuts and teacher shifting. 

It might be the luck of some people to pray for the perfect teacher, have their child placed into the perfect class, only to have them plucked like chicken feathers and discarded into the class room from hell. 

But that isn't my kind of luck. My prayer stays in effect until 30 days after the first day of school for situations just like that.

You might think I am kidding. 

I learned my lesson the first year we arrived here. I pray now.

And thankfully I did. Matthew got the perfect teacher for him this year. Her name is Ms. Nylen and she is the kindest, most patient teacher I've ever known. I had the opportunity to work in her classroom all year on Tuesdays and in the library on Fridays. (Gratitude to Peggy for taking Makayla to school and Tom for allowing me to stay home and Mandy for watching Travis.)

Makayla also got amazing teachers, who were committed to teaching her Math and responsibility. (Note the capitalization on my favorite subject.)  I'm sure my comment to her social studies teacher about the subject being inferior to Math may have served up additional learning experiences for Makayla this year. Oops!

And of course I am thankful for Travis's lovely Ms. Lacroix, who has so much love for small children and stray animals she may have the biggest mansion in heaven. 

Just seems like the wrapped cookies, drawn pictures, flowers, and thank you notes aren't enough. This prayer of gratitude is without an expiration...

39. Friends

Last week I am sure my children wondered how I was able to prop my feet up, read a book, and still have an immaculately clean house. What I didn't tell them was my friend paid to have a house keeper come and clean my house for a day. Shhh!

If that wasn't enough, Karalea also created an honor board for me as a thank you for her birthday surprise. 

And she gave me a prepared dinner when I arrived to pick up my boys after she watched them for a couple of hours. 

Karalea-Karalea, say it once, say it twice...today was twice as nice because of YOU! 

38. Food

Currently my fridge has tri-tip steak, chicken sausage, 4 kinds of cheese, milk, buttermilk, basil, rosemary, celery, lettuce, apples, lemons, sour cream, a lime, broccoli, cilantro, onions, yogurt, butter, eggs, pudding, lemonade, turkey, blackberries, strawberries, avocados, carrots, and water.

Is it normal to know exactly what is in your fridge at any given moment without looking or taking a picture? Well, if not, I am not normal. I know when my fridge is full and when it is empty, but the feeling I get when it is full is one of gratitude.

Here's tonight's dinner:

37. Owen's Dad

Matthew is playing coaches pitch this year on a team with a boy named Owen. Makayla says she doesn't play softball anymore because she gets too nervous at bat. Or maybe it's because my coaching from the stands embarrassed her too much.  

As I enjoyed Matt's game today, I commented on how I've changed as a spectator. I think Makayla rolled her eyes.

And just when I thought I had mastered parenting as a fan in the stands, Owen's dad taught me an incredible lesson. At the end of the inning, and after the last batter had hit, Owen was the catcher in charge of getting the ball and tagging all the remaining base players out at home. 

The last player was approaching home plate and Owen didn't have the ball in his possession. The moment was a tense one as Owen reached for the ball and turned and ran toward the plate just as the player crossed safely over home. 

Owen's dad yelled, Good job O! Owen looked up with confusion and defeat in his facial expression. Another mother noticed, He doesn't look convinced.  Owen's dad replied, I thought he did his best.

And the question hit me like the first time I tasted licorice, is that what this is about? It isn't about being the best player or never making a mistake? 

I am grateful to learn I have a lot to learn. I am grateful for another wonderful moment of enlightenment. 

36. State of Being Safe

Last night I checked the locked doors and checked again to be sure I was safe. My heated blanket was waiting for me after I turned off the lights and headed to bed. 

Matthew was the first one up in the morning. Once he heard me stir, he came in to greet me.  Good Morning. 

We had breakfast, a bath, and t.v. time. Then we went to the gym, the store, and the gas station. We hurried home for our scheduled appointment with the mobile auto glass company. We will eat lunch, go to the movies, and probably the mall today.

And I guess there is no risk of injury or death I need to worry about. No bombs flying overhead or the sound of Indians screaming. The moments play on in my mind as though something may happen, but the reality is I am safe and we are safe. We live in a safe neighborhood, a safe city, a safe country. Today I am aware of it and grateful. 

35. Full Beds

Tonight I returned from playing church basketball to an empty house, to empty beds. Tom and Makayla went with me, and I pressured Makayla into playing too. Her voice was almost gone when she reminded me on the way home that she was still feeling sick.

Tomorrow is Tom's first Success in the Sand one-mile inspirational training down at the end of our beach, so the boys are sleeping in grandma's bed. 

Normally the boys would be asleep right now anyway and the house would be quiet. And yet, this silence is empty. Passing by their dark room, I felt the void deeply. 

Sometimes I wish for peace and quiet, for emptiness, for silence. But not tonight. I miss my boys. I miss the beds being filled with intermittent sighs and sweaty shoes and socks being flung around on the floor. Sleep well, sweet lambs.