I am grateful for the subtle excitement of hearing an owl in the pre-dawn darkness of a walk, and then discovering that it was sitting at the very tiptop of the cross/steeple on the church around the block.
I am grateful that the message keeps appearing in front of me this week:
I am grateful for a heartfelt email from Lisa even if she was being silly ridiculous.
I am grateful for the simple message from an afternoon DJ on the radio when he remarked, “Life is too short to be grouchy.”
I am grateful for a husband who knew that I would be fearful this morning and prevented my reaction by checking things out and reassuring me that everything was okay.
I am grateful for the possibility of starting a new small group, thanks to a few friends who are spurring us on.
I am grateful for chocolate custard from Freddy’s.
I am grateful for little girls’ light up shoes. They are worth a smile.
I am grateful that the football game last night wasn’t a complete blowout.
I am grateful for time spent with my CASA girl and grateful that she is beginning to really open up.
I am grateful for a store credit that I had forgotten about.
I am grateful for the word “whoop-tee-do.” I dare you to use it in a sentence this weekend.
I am grateful for the genius of the Samsung Galaxy marketing team. This is BRILLIANT and makes me stop in my tracks every time so I can watch it. And yes, it sure makes me want a Samsung.
I am grateful for weekends to change up the routine of the week.
I am grateful for memories of putting on “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown” at Elyria, at Central, at CBA, and grateful for my Snoopys who did “Suppertime” so well. Brad in his ears and goofy grin swingin’ Roman around with the bowl of food…ahhhhh. Those were the days of some good memory making.
I am grateful for this “extra” that went along with my church devotion yesterday, and I love the message of sharing my faith through actions, and the reminder that I may possibly be the only “Jesus” someone will see:
I grew up going to church with my best friend and her family. Church and religion were not a part of my family’s make-up (and that hasn’t changed in 32 years). I grew up going to church, just not with my family. I am the lone Jesus-lover in a sea of atheists. So how does one live out and speak about their faith when that’s not the belief of the people they love? Well, I don’t, at least not with words. Sharing my faith and making known the difference Jesus has made in my life doesn’t come from the words I speak, but from the actions I live out every day.
Does our difference in opinion give me grief? Absolutely, but no more than any other thing my family does. They are my family, and they can drive me bonkers faster than any other set of adults on this earth, and I love them for it. I show them my faith by giving them grace when they mess up. I apologize when I have wronged them. I speak of my faith when I share an evening with my father showing him the pictures of my recent mission trip to Malawi and regale him with stories of the people I met and the ways we are changing lives. It’s sharing my faith when I pick up the phone and call my dad to tell him I thought of him at church because the band sang Queen at the beginning of service.
I share my faith with my family every chance I get, but you will never hear me ask them if they have heard the good news, or if they were to die today if they knew where they were going. I trust in Jesus’ love and grace to worry about that for all of us. My goal at the end of each visit is to show them through the person that I am, and the person I continually work on becoming, to give an example of how faith can transform your life. Seeing what God has done in my life will speak volumes over any words I could use. – Cecilia Hiatt
And finally, I am grateful for my little cowboy. Yee haw, get along little dogies. With a whoop-tee-do and a yippie-ki-yi-yay, happy weekend, friends.