I remember standing at a window in our home in Nevada thinking, "This naming things for which you're grateful just isn't working. I've tried it for two weeks and I'm still feeling depressed."
This was before the idea of keeping a gratitude journal appeared. No, back in 1990 we were just encouraged, everywhere it seemed, (magazines, books, sermons) to stop complaining and start reminding our heads, instead, of the good and happy stuff.
Except that it didn't work for me, hence, why I cluelessly stood at that window.
But these 20 years later it's all obvious to me. Namely, my head was too full of junk and so any gratitude just poured out in the overflow of negativity. Thankfulness just couldn't 'stick.'
Inside my head (and heart) I still resented our moving from a land of endless greenery, lakes, mountains and friends to a (literal) flat, barren, hot desert with no friends. I hated Tom's work schedule--his company was 100 miles away so he'd be gone for four days, then home for four. Our new double-wide mobile home always seemed too hot or too cold. I adored all things old-fashioned, but I was surrounded by all things new-fangled. Nevadans were slow to warm-up to strangers and at church you had to be invited by someone in order to be part of a women's Bible study--and no one had invited me. Ever. (My oh my, was I bitter about that!)
Need I go on?
Well to shorten all this, gratitude only fixed my head, my heart and attitude when I began allowing God to throw out the ugly junk within me. I had to let Him work on me. I had to admit there was junk in there. And over the years, I've had to allow Him to throw away anything which would take away even an inch of space for thankfulness, acceptance, peace and joy.
It's been one long process. Trust me (and the de-junking and tune-ups continue daily). But oh! So very, very worth every pain of humility.
******************
"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain." ... copied
Monday, January 03, 2011
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Some Creative Imagining For You
There I was all sleepy-eyed, doing my usual early-Sunday-morning search for terrific new blogs when, wow! I came across this charming painting. Its name is Lucia Morning, each tiny detail is a delight and well, I am smitten. Positively smitten.
A special thanks to Mrs. Mac for introducting me to the artist, Carl Larsson. You can view more of his lovely work, here.
What a special way to start this Sunday!
*************
Was anyone else enchanted by Lucia Morning as I was? I'd love to read your thoughts in my comment box.
A special thanks to Mrs. Mac for introducting me to the artist, Carl Larsson. You can view more of his lovely work, here.
What a special way to start this Sunday!
*************
Was anyone else enchanted by Lucia Morning as I was? I'd love to read your thoughts in my comment box.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
Happy New Year!
Doesn't it blow your mind that you can go to bed in 2010 and wake up in 2011? And people say there's no magic left in Life...
Happy New Year to all my faithful Readers!
*******
So, as usual, this morning at around 7:40 I threw my long black coat over my robe and walked down our long-ish driveway to get the newspaper. But not as usual on January 1st, it was an 50 amazing degrees out there! So to celebrate, I left the newspaper inside our back porch then stepped back outside and down the little rise below our well to our patio. Yes, I just walked around the patio and to the lawn beyond, in my coat thrown over my robe, out to the back gate of the Bunny Pasture where I stood and looked at my one-winged fairy pool and the woods beyond it.
And I didn't even care if any neighbors thought it all kinda odd, me out there so early like that. Nor did I care (much, anyway) when two hours later I--get this--planted some bulbs in our front flower bed in the rain. On January first! But I'd procrastinated planting those bulbs since Autumn and one of my resolutions is to only procrastinate to the point of where things still get done on time, albeit the last minute. I've read that A.D.D. people secretly enjoy the added excitement of the pressure of it all, so I've stopped beating myself up for that. What really matters, after all, is that things get done and that I enjoy the doing of them.
Strolling around the yard in my pj's on a January morning and planting bulbs on New Year's Day in the rain. I'm off to a great start for a creative, non-oh-hum sort of year. And that's a Good Thing. That's partly what it's all about.
Happy New Year to all my faithful Readers!
*******
So, as usual, this morning at around 7:40 I threw my long black coat over my robe and walked down our long-ish driveway to get the newspaper. But not as usual on January 1st, it was an 50 amazing degrees out there! So to celebrate, I left the newspaper inside our back porch then stepped back outside and down the little rise below our well to our patio. Yes, I just walked around the patio and to the lawn beyond, in my coat thrown over my robe, out to the back gate of the Bunny Pasture where I stood and looked at my one-winged fairy pool and the woods beyond it.
And I didn't even care if any neighbors thought it all kinda odd, me out there so early like that. Nor did I care (much, anyway) when two hours later I--get this--planted some bulbs in our front flower bed in the rain. On January first! But I'd procrastinated planting those bulbs since Autumn and one of my resolutions is to only procrastinate to the point of where things still get done on time, albeit the last minute. I've read that A.D.D. people secretly enjoy the added excitement of the pressure of it all, so I've stopped beating myself up for that. What really matters, after all, is that things get done and that I enjoy the doing of them.
Strolling around the yard in my pj's on a January morning and planting bulbs on New Year's Day in the rain. I'm off to a great start for a creative, non-oh-hum sort of year. And that's a Good Thing. That's partly what it's all about.
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