Multitude Monday---counting my 1000 gift a week at a time

It is evening, on Monday. I've been thinking about my blessings all day and knowing I'd post before bed. Can I be honest with you? Sometimes I don't feel like being thankful. Sometimes I want to be selfish, ugly and self reliant. Quiet, guarded, walls built around me. Sometimes I don't want to share my heart or thoughts with anyone. I hope you can relate so I don't seem to you as ugly as I feel writing those things. And yes, today is one of those days.

61. In the midst of my selfish emotions, I'm glad for the feeling of my conscience telling me to change my attitude.

62. I'm thankful for the beautiful, foggy, fallish morning that reminded me that God unveils the mountains only when he chooses.

63. For recess duty on days like today when the sun soaks into the depths of my soul and warms me as I listen to children's games, giggles, arguing, swings creaking as a lone child soars...and I wonder what is on his mind.

64. I'm thankful for my students who make me laugh by their innocence. Like "vitamin DC" being the vitamin we get from milk.

65. For the memory of teenage feelings, emotions...the good, the bad, the bullet proof.

66. For quiet moments with coffee before my world wakes up.

67. For distant clouds and powerful lightning. We pray for rain, for nourishment and then fear the storms when they arrive to bring it. I pray for growth and understanding of God and then fear the storms that send me running to Him, seeking closeness that brings growth. When will I learn? He keeps trying to show me in so many ways.

68. For sadness and hurt. No, I don't wish for those things but, if life on Earth were always perfect, we wouldn't need heaven.

69. For hugs. Cyber hugs from my sister, prayer hugs from friends, hugs from my children, the safe arms of my husband. Hugs heal. Instigate them. Often.

70. For the lump in my throat as I type this. I don't know who reads my words on this blog. I am baring my naked soul, with all of its imperfections, to an unknown audience. Thank you for caring about me and my family. Thank you for reading because writing is a form of therapy even for the happiest of days. I love words, I love the pictures they paint. Today is muted colors with splashes of dark...not a living room masterpiece, but still a masterpiece of Life...never to be painted quiet like it again, ever.