Inhabiting Gratitude

A mother in Africa knows that there's no hope for her 6 month old who is dying of starvation. Mother's instinct drives her and tens of thousands of other women to walk with their children--and sometimes the children of other mothers--21 days in the desert for medical care, food, water.

I wonder how many people could eat off the food I toss out every week. How many people could drink the water I waste while rinsing my dishes after a savory dinner?

I suddenly find myself feeling... guilty, yes, but mostly....GRATEFUL. Grateful for every morsel that hits my tongue, for the all the bills I worry and complain about every 2 weeks, for the messy kitchen, the messy bedrooms, the crying baby.

If I have bills it's because I have a refrigerator with food in it, and a stove that I use daily to cook that food.

If I have a sink full of dishes and a messy kitchen, it's because I've mixed together spices--more in spices than the African woman has seen in food all month--and oil and vegetables and rice.

If I have to clean the bedroom, it's because we have more than enough clothes that they are spilling out of drawers and closets.

If my son cries in the night, it's because he's healthy. It's because he's nourished enough to have strong teeth pushing through his gums. It's because he knows that I can eliminate his hunger.

God has been grooming me for this. I wanted a heart that would be grateful in all circumstances, and now he has me on a mountaintop of gratefulness to see the bigger picture.

I know that eventually I have to come down from the mountain, but while I'm up here, I will make a habit-- a habitat-- of gratitude.

Just a number

I saw it on the license plate of the Ford Escape parked next to the cabin.

I saw it again when I checked the time while sitting in the car in front of Subway.

...And again, as an exit number while traveling down the highway.

222

It's not a magic number, but it is a simple reminder to stop and remember He is here.

He knows I need to be reminded when I get caught up in tasks that need to be completed, stress that I can't shake off, worry over my husband or our son, or whatever unwelcome feeling that is accosting me that day. And in the midst of the spinning, and even in the desperate seeking after Him, He stops me in my tracks with that agreed upon sign: 222. And then a double portion....at 4:44 P.M.

I stop...smile...breathe...remember that all these things are not bigger or more eternal than God. He loves me and will show me that He loves me in whatever way He can get through to me. Sometimes that's a shooting star, and sometimes it's just a number.