“Why not?” I thought. “At least for January.”

She decided to take Anne’s “Joy Dare” all over again, count another thousand. So maybe I will, too.

I’m not one for fitting myself slavishly into someone else’s format, but it might be fun, at least for one month. And I do like to keep up on counting my blessings and giving thanks, actually five a day. (This goes way back in years.) So the Dare will give me fresh focuses, and my thankses typed into my computer to share will leave more room in my personal (handwritten) journal.

So… I’m getting started (late) on these—and I’ve only done the “first seven days’ worth.” (More, I think, would get too lengthy.)

And they all encompass one weekend (through this morning). One lovely, blessed weekend…

– – –

I heard three gifts from God this morning:

            ~muffled all-night roar of swollen creek across the road

            ~drum of rain upon the roof

            ~swish of passing tires on blacktop past the house

all speaking of

~weather warmed

~and the “Christmas” visit that finally happened on the weekend just past, after times of snow and sickness

– – –

Gifts by night, on Friday:

~sound outside, of driveway gravel crunching under tires

~sight of that familiar car pulled in (at last!) behind the house

~smiling faces entered inside, part of this home for awhile again

~laughter of Gramma-carried child (to keep pretty sneakers from the mud), child found suddenly a bit too tall to carry easy anymore

~and on a plate, leftover pizza, manna to a man delayed two extra hours in traffic, then skipping dinner while wee (oops, growing) one slept.

– – –

Graces overheard

            Spoken:

                       ~ “It’s beautiful!”

                        ~“You do a commendable job as a father.”

                        ~“She always looks forward to coming up here.”

            ~Sung: Hymn softly poured out in child-sweet voice

            ~And whistled: tune announcing contentment.

Graces…

            ~Old: the tradition, oft repeated but not worn-out

            ~New: belated Christmas gifts

 ~Blue: patch of sky under which to build the snowgirl with the hay hair, from snow still left from melting

~In my (gift) bag: present picked out by Little’s own choice

~In the fridge: grass-fed beef rib roast long saved in freezer, much too big for two

~In my heart: singing joy

Three graces from these loved ones:

~A Thank you spoken.

~A message written (by kindergartener whose gifted teacher shows his students how to “chop words” into sounds to spell them — already!)

~A big warm hug from a big warm son

~A gift sweet: hot and fragrant cinnamon-bread toasted on a winter morning,

~sour (well, sweet-sour) – quickly devoured at dinner: “Four-Day Sweet Pickles,” husband-homemade

and just right timing:

~the “after-Christmas cactus,” which didn’t bloom at Christmastime, but waited till our belated one, and then burst forth to celebrate! (We don’t always do things by man’s calendar—and neither do our houseplants! Out of sync = in sync!)

(Numbers 1-27 for 2013)

4 thoughts on “Out of Sync Counting

  1. Great moms make great kids and grandkids. God brings honor to Himself and you through your family. Awesome post.

  2. Hm. Thank you, Floyd, for your encouraging comment. I didn’t see that. I hope Grace makes some of this true. I know my failings, which are and have been many. I’m amazed (and very grateful) for the way God makes beauty in people who’ve had horrible parents! Blessings on your week!

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