Thanksgiving

As long as thanks is possible, then joy is always possible.”
― Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are

Thankfulness.  It's a theme that runs deep in this season of my life.  I am thankful for the big stuff: the celebration of family and friends; the arrival of a new life so deeply prayed for; the happy news I hear about for the ones I care so much about.  

I am thankful for the little things: the huge grin on my eldest's face as he runs home from school; the excitement of my second born as he sees his friend on skype; the laughter of little boys at play; the fall sunshine; the sound of birdsong.

I'm in the middle of reading a book entitled One Thousand Gifts.  The prose is intense and I have to admit that I am savouring the read ~ one chapter at a time.  The dare presented by the author: to live fully right where you are.  

So much has happened in a year.  It is impossible not to be thankful when I take a moment to consider the journey, the healing, and the health improvements I've experienced.  There are still moments of chest pressure; but they are few and mild ~ most likely a reflection of the Gerdes component of my condition.  I reflect on the PE every so often; I still wear my medic alert bracelet, I continue to take my warfarin and I still sift through the shadows (and revelations) that resulted in that summer of last.

For the most part, we are now settling into a routine.  The older boys are enjoying school and the younger boys are exploring, discovering and learning in the wonderful way of the toddler.  As in so many other seasons of late, I haven't found much time for email, facebook or blogging, but I have been thinking a great deal about the amazing people in my life.  It happens when I'm at the sink washing dishes or at the washing machine throwing in another load... and I am thankful.  

The running I had started mid-summer has transformed into the kind of mama-on-the-run-packing-lunches-sorting-laundry kind of running.  Running the bath water, running in the leaves after my boys, running the dishwasher, running ragged...  

Running a household.  

I do not easily forget how a year ago, the simple motions of domestic life were all but impossible.  I do not forget the hot meals arriving at my door, the hands holding those of my sons, the words of encouragement and, most importantly, I do not forget the love. 

I am thankful.  

I am filled with thanks.

“Eucharisteo—thanksgiving—always precedes the miracle.” 
― Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are