I took the three youngest boys to the mountains a couple of Saturdays ago. The long drive incited a much needed nap for the little men and allowed me to fulfill some much longed for thought processing time. It was a gift.
Once we got there, the boys were eager to enjoy a snack and then get out to explore. They had remembered the big rocks on the shoreline here in the late fall and had wanted to return to one of their favourite pastimes of climbing and inspecting them.
However, they soon discovered that most of the rocks were buried under a thick layer of ice.
Undaunted, they decided to find a new objective: breaking the ice.
It was cold. The wind whipped all around us. And aside from skating on it, I had never really appreciated ice (winter, snow, cold) very much. At all. In fact, it was really the antithesis of that. But that Saturday afternoon I discovered how beautiful the ice could be.
Perhaps it is the journey I've been on... that I am on. Perhaps it is the
counting of gifts. Perhaps it is the fact that in so many ways, I am recognizing the wisdom and lessons readily accessible through the ways of my children. Perhaps it is all of this and more, but in that afternoon, I couldn't help but feel a wonder at it all - the mountains, the children, the ice - the incredible gifts above, below and right in front of me.
Breaking the ice.
I like one of the definitions for this idiom: to get something started.
My
list - my lists - have surpassed a thousand gifts.
Yet, there is a phenomenon at work here as I am experiencing new joy in old places.
In breaking the constructs of my expectations and finding hope, beauty and peace in the most challenging moments, toughest experiences and unlovely situations.
When it comes to gratefulness, I discover, I am breaking the ice... I'm just getting started.
What a gift that is indeed.
