I am sitting here trying to will my tummy into calmness. My legs are shaking, my mind is reeling and I just can't quite get over the fact that Darren and Isaac may not be making their way home Wednesday. I think about my hands. Hands that want to hold my son. Hands that want to hold my husband's hands. At this point, my hands are not opened wide to receive the gift God has for me in this moment. I am too busy wringing them. Trying to figure out what I can do to get the storm to go south or east or just dissipate. But I am not God. And when I start wringing, God reminds me ever so gently to stop, release and open wide the hands to receive His gifts for me, right now, in this moment, by giving thanks. So I will number them...
Sophia waking up singing this morning
Coffee on the front porch with mimi
Friends that love us and pray for us
Jason Bass (the cat!) wanting to cuddle
My own laughter and joy that follows
Yes, God shows me time and time again...eucharisteo always precedes the miracle.
In all things.
At all times.
Even when it's hard.
Especially when it's hard.