30 Days of Thankfulness.
I’ve posted less than half those days.
The rest I have done a re-post, or not posted at all.
It’s not that I am not grateful.
I just can’t seem to put words to the paper.
Gratitude sometimes can not be captured in words.
There are times when the words won’t reach.
A place where the soul holds the secrets.
And these days have been full.
The demands of farming,
the changes in a child getting married and leaving the nest have all left us depleted.
A house becoming quieter.
The soul is stretched and weary.
The practice of gratitude replenishes the deep weariness.
This I know.
A practice reminding us to walk forward;
looking to seek the holy when the world flashes the latest in crisis.
I have failed.
I have failed to record these moments;
Pen to paper.
My farmer and I go to breakfast.
There are many details we are missing.
The rush of these days causes us to get behind.
We talk over practicalities and then we take a leisurely drive back to the farm.
Rolling hills, scattered brilliance, mixed with stark.
I am so grateful.
I can’t find the words.
There don’t seem to be any.
I close my eyes.
I take a picture in my mind.
I want to remember this moment.
This feeling. . . each detail.
These moments matter.
They have value.
So much of the landscape has changed over the years.
Houses and businesses, now dot the once open farmland.
A lone rock wall or remanence of a foundation are the only evidence of a time gone by.
We slowly make our way back to the farm.
The drive has done us both good.
A few moments.
A good plan.
Maybe I haven’t failed.
Maybe the practice of gratitude just looked different this year.
Maybe the moments were gathered in the memories made.
Perhaps blank pages have ushered in opportunities otherwise lost.
Each year I am changed by this journey.
It’s been quieter.
My soul has needed some attention.
I will continue to seek the moments.
I will strive to record this thankful journey.
Sometimes that may just look a little differently.
30 Days of Thankfulness
I am thankful for
Hot coffee in my mug
Snow on the mountain
drives with my farmer
heifers that can’t seem to stay in their pasture
a kitchen busy with baking
The Ancient word
A God who loves me enough to help me change
A farmer who longs to be like His Savior
A son who stops in for coffee