There is so much pain. So much sorrow. So much fear. Violence. Sadness.
An arrest was made tonight in the case of JonBenet Ramsey,
whose mother died a couple of months ago.
The tears flow in remembrance of the senseless loss of
another child's life at the hands of a maniac.
Cancer scares. Awaiting test results.
Painful divorce. Aren't they all painful?
New air travel restrictions because lunatics want to kill innocent travelers.
A newlywed husband who cannot find a job to support his new family.
A husband and father of three is sent back to Costa Rica, leaving behind a newly purchased house, a car, and a wife who has does not work outside their home.
Layer upon layer of grief. Loss. Agony.
So today I focused my mind on wallowing in the small stuff.
The minor wonders that make each day wonderful.
Breaking a good, running-down-my-nose sweat while working out this morning.
Waffles with sliced bananas, warm syrup, and coffee for breakfast.
Washing our sheets. I'm looking forward to diving into bed tonight.
Watching Maya carry her favorite sheepskin teddy bear to her sheepskin bed in the homeschool room and lie down. She watched us read together for a while, but when the chapter bored her, she nodded off to sleep. Evidently, she's not a fan of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
Watching the sun set in the distance as Daniel played sandlot baseball. Nine boys and one girl hitting as hard as they could, throwing as fast as the could, and sliding as valiantly as they could. (I am not looking forward to trying to get the Carolina red clay out of his pants.)
Preparing to teach a workshop on journaling as spiritual practice. In Spanish. I love journaling, so the prospect of sharing a few tips with others is joyous to me.
Sitting at this desk and looking over at our homeschooling materials, all clean and dust-free, ready for service in a few days' time.
Listening to Steve and the kids talk and laugh downstairs.
Spinach salad with seedless red grapes, home-grown basil, and homemade salad dressing - it's the Good Seasons garlic and herb envelope that I doctor up with fancy vinegar, and more water than oil.
Eating key lime pie for dessert. The children made it yesterday. Yum.
The freshly made whipped cream didn't hurt.
Making plans to meet my three favorite writing buddies in NYC next week for a three-day writing/reading/museum-hopping/walk our feet off/late night gab-session/eat, drink, and be merry marathon.
As I sit here compiling this list, I realize yet again how blessed I am.
More than enough to eat, drink, share, write about, give thanks for, and enjoy.
The Psalmist wrote:
"You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing to you and not be silent,
O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever."