dual personalities

In yesterday’s blog post I described a fun overnight visit to my daughter in Jefferson City. I was thinking more about it and it occurred to me that there was nothing particularly “Instagrammable” or blog-worthy about it. It was very ordinary indeed. But isn’t it in the ordinary that we see the beauty and blessings of God’s world?

Sure, it would have been great to eat dinner at the Gasparilla Inn in Boca Grande or sit on a patio overlooking Lake Como sipping a cocktail. But for me, eating lunch at the Grand on High Street in our state capitol is really just as pleasant. Driving around that small midwestern town and seeing the park and the local university was just as fun as sightseeing in Washington D.C. My point being that wherever you are, there you are, and your glass is either half full or half empty.

My glass is half full. I wake up every morning and thank God that His mercies are new every morning. (Some days it takes me a moment or two to remember what day it is or what month, but I get there eventually.) And there is usually a pot of coffee going that the OM made before I got up. And I know that nothing extraordinary will happen to me today–at least I hope not–but the memory of holding my grandchildren’s tiny hands as we crossed the church parking lot on Sunday will keep me going all week.

Well, I am going to tidy up and get ready for a houseful of family at Thanksgiving. I am thankful for a sweet son-in-law who is driving his family 700 miles to be here. I am thankful for a sweet daughter-in-law who is making special matching holiday pajamas for the cousins–a family tradition on her side of the family. We’ll have cheesy potato casserole and green beans and crescent rolls and Dierberg’s will prepare the turkey breast. And even if there is no canned jellied cranberry this year because of the sorry state of commerce in our country (I noted the absence of this staple today at Dierberg’s), we’ll survive. If the whole meal implodes, we’ll be fine. Because it’s not just about the yummy food and the perfect table settings. We have plenty to be thankful for.

Yes, it is November and we like to count our blessings extra hard in the run-up to Thanksgiving. I encourage you to do this as well. But keep in mind that being grateful means little if you do not know and acknowledge to whom you are grateful. So praise God from whom all blessings flow/Praise Him, all creatures here below/Praise Him above, ye heavenly host/Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

And take note of all the miracles in your life!

Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.

To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the
        ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

–Walt Whitman