I’ve been amazed at how fast they grow.  Greg mowed the yard on Saturday afternoon.  When I pulled in the driveway after church on Sunday, there were more than a dozen seemingly full-grown dandelions waiting to greet me.

“Oh my goodness!”  I exclaimed.  ”Look at how fast dandelions can grow!”  The kids and I marveled, but I also couldn’t help shaking my head and sighing.  Luke asked why I did that.  I explained that dandelions are weeds, and that people try to get rid of them.  It was then that Anna piped up:  ”I would never try to get rid of dandelions.  They’re so beautiful!!”  

Her comment made me pause and think.  Why is it that we disdain dandelions so much?  Yes, they use up too many nutrients and keep one’s yard from being uniformly green…but why must we have uniform yards?  Who decided that uniformity was beautiful?  Besides, dandelions are pretty–really!  If they were a rare flower that took lots of work, I think we would admire them a lot more.  And yet, because dandelions take no effort, because they grow overnight where we don’t want them to grow, we resent them.  Isn’t that curious?  We love flowers that we control, that we work for, that we coax into blooming.  We love the ones that stay in our neatly ascribed garden boundaries.  But wild dandelions, which don’t ask our permission before gracing us with their beauty, draw our wrath.

That’s an interesting phenomenon.

I’ve noticed the same thing with weather.  Lots of people like crisp air in autumn.  Others love beautiful snowy days in winter, or warm spring days, or the hot days of summer.  But what no one seems to be able to stand is summer days in autumn, winter days in spring, or overly warm days in winter.  In short, we like the various types of weather, but in our minds, they must be in their proper season.  Case in point:  this chilly spring has been driving everyone crazy.  If the calendar says April, daggonnit, then it’s supposed to be warm!!  A cold day is all well and good when it is January; then we might make a fire and sip hot chocolate and enjoy it.  But in April??  Forget it!  Basically, we like our weather patterns to be predictable, controlled.  And when they don’t fit into our preconceived notions of seasonal appropriateness, we rail against them.

But a cold day has just as many possibilities in April as in January.  And a warm, balmy one should be no less enjoyable in October than in May.

And a dandelion is beautiful.

Even if we can’t predict and control it.

Pondering the dandelions yesterday afternoon made me realize the different “dandelions” that pop up in my life:  those things of beauty that I resent, just because I can’t control them.  Take waiting, for example.  So often, my life seems so busy, so chaotic, and I would just love a chance to sit and be quiet, to calm my thoughts and ponder and reflect.  Such moments seem to be in short supply, and I am constantly scheming of ways for my life to slow down.

Until it does slow down, at a traffic light or a carpool line at tutorial or a waiting room.  Then, suddenly, I have a few seconds to myself–moments where no chores beckon, with no items on my to-do list able to be knocked off. I have a few moments to sit and think.

And do I enjoy these moments??

No.  I don’t.  These moments are dandelions.  I can’t control them; I didn’t choose them.  Thus, I don’t want them.  Apparently, I want quiet time on my terms, when I am fully prepared for it.  I want quiet time on my couch, surrounded by my books and notebook, not here in my car in the middle of traffic.  Yes, they are moments to think, to pray, to ponder, to refocus.  But I don’t appreciate them.  I find myself resenting these “time dandelions” instead of marveling at their fleeting beauty.

Or take moments with my kids.  I love times of connections with my children, times of snuggles and good conversations.  That’s a big part of why I homeschool.  I love to spend my days reading to my kids, talking to them, and playing with them.

Unless, of course, I’m in the middle of another task.  In that case, I grow impatient when they need me, and resent when they persistently demand my attention.  Often, these spontaneous interactions, these dandelion moments, could lead to bonding and beauty–if I have the wisdom to embrace them.

And that’s my challenge for myself today.  I want to appreciate the dandelions in my life, the little moments beyond my control.  I want to see the beauty in a life that I can’t fully plan, a life that keeps surprising me.  I want to embrace opportunities to rest and opportunities to love, even if they aren’t in my perfectly manicured garden–er, I mean schedule.

Because dandelions are beautiful.

My daughter taught me that.

The picture garnered a silent stream of “likes” throughout the day, and I was oddly comforted by my friends and family’s acknowledgment of his death.  Because that’s what those “likes” were to me:  an acknowledgment.  I know it’s silly, but with just a simple click of the mouse, they said to me, “Yes.  That happened.”  And there is something in me that doesn’t want others to forget.

Alongside the silent “likes” on Facebook, quiet snowflakes fell outside all day long.  I have never experienced anything like the weather today:  it snowed and snowed, but nothing stuck.  That’s because it was 34 degrees all day.  And yet, the big, fat snowflakes kept tumbling down from the gray sky, refusing to turn into rain.  They were peaceful and beautiful, and I took their presence as heaven’s acknowledgment of this significant day:  Peace and beauty, falling from the sky.

The thing is, today was not a sad day.  I wasn’t tearful (for the most part); on the contrary, I was very busy.  This morning, I had our church’s first curriculum meeting, where I sat around a table and discussed with several other wonderful people how to best equip our children for the Christian life.  On the way home, I stopped by the grocery store.  Then, I came home and started working on the house:  I mopped, I scrubbed baseboards, I vacuumed, I spot cleaned, I did laundry.  You know, all those little things that make it so I can open my house to others and welcome them in.  This evening, I attended a benefit to support some friends who are in the process of adopting their third precious child.  No…I wasn’t sad.

I was just mindful.

Whenever I think about the fact that my brother is in heaven, I am comforted by the idea that I am going to see him soon.  Maybe that sounds morbid, but it’s true.  You and I are on this earth no longer than a minute.  Our life is a breath.  We are the fog that appears in the morning and vanishes.  We are the grass that quickly withers.

We are the snowflakes that don’t even stick to the ground.  That’s how ephemeral our presence is.

Is it weird that that thought comforts me?

Is it weird that it energizes me?

Sometimes I think, “I AM ALIVE ON THIS EARTH AT THIS MOMENT!”  And that thought blows me away.  It makes me want to live my little moment to the fullest.  It makes me want to live for things that MATTER.  It makes me look with disdain on all my petty concerns, like the big world map canvas I want (but can’t afford) for my living room and like the pounds I still want to lose.  It makes those little frustrations seem like the pointless distractions that they are.  And it makes things like loving my neighbor and serving others and dying to myself seem like they are the only things that matter.

Because they are.

No, the awareness of my mortality doesn’t sadden me; it invigorates me.  And that makes sense, I guess.  At least, it does to C.S. Lewis, who observed,

If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were precisely those who thought most of the next.  The Apostles themselves, who set on foot the conversion of the Roman Empire, the great men who built up the Middle Ages, the English Evangelicals who abolished the Slave Trade, all left their mark on Earth, precisely because their minds were occupied with Heaven. It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this.

I believe that Lewis is absolutely correct on this point.  It’s when I forget that my life is a breath that I get distracted by wall decorations and weight gain and all manner of other meaningless junk.  My brother helps me remember that.  And so does the Bible.

I’m going to die soon.  And so are you.  Let’s start living like we understand what that means.

That’s it.  Earth-shattering, right?  But for me, it kind of was.  I often get overwhelmed by the big picture:  what does God want me to do with my life?  Is He pleased with me?  What are His plans for me?  And am I following them?  Am I walking in obedience??  Ahhhhh!!!!  Someone get me a Magic 8 ball!

My little brain can’t piece all that together.  But it can handle “the next right thing.”  The next right thing that day was to stay awake (drat) and to get to know these wonderful girls who were with me.  The next right thing was to really listen to them, and as a result, to get a true glimpse into their lives.  And the next right thing after that was to feel really convicted about how fervently I pray for my children, but don’t pray for these girls.  Another mom has shared with me the idea of “praying circles around my kids.”  On our trip, God gently asked me, “Who is praying circles around these kids?”  And so the next right thing was to start praying for these girls as often as I pray for my own kids.  And the next right thing after that was to write them an encouraging note before school.

The next right thing.

Similarly, I’ve been overwhelmed with the task of figuring out what and how to teach our children at our church.  I’ve had to realize that I can’t figure that whole picture out right now; I just have to do the next right thing.  The next right thing in that task was to organize the hand-me-down curriculum we have for the spring semester.  And the next right thing after that was to talk to our teachers and realize that they don’t like that curriculum, so I need to look for something else for the fall.  And the next right thing after that was to do online research.  And the next right thing will be to do some in-store research and hopefully find some samples to show our teachers.  These tasks are small, insignificant.  They are not the “great” things I dream about doing for the kingdom of God.  But maybe “great” things are just series of “next right things” that are allowed to continue to their natural conclusion.

The next right thing.

I have also been overwhelmed by the idea of this blog sitting here, unused.  I don’t really know what I want from it.  I don’t have any big picture of its purpose.  But I know that the speaker’s message during the Girls’ Conference was a good one.  I know that this idea of simply doing the next right thing has really helped me in my Christian walk.  So I’m going to share it.

Because sharing it is the next right thing.

“May God bless you in this New Year!

May God bless you with a restless discomfort about easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships, so that you may seek truth boldly and love deep within your heart.

May God bless you with holy anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may tirelessly work for justice, freedom, and peace among all people.

May God bless you with the gift of tears to shed with those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, or the loss of all that they cherish, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and transform their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you really CAN make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with God’s grace, to do what others claim cannot be done.

And the blessing of God the Supreme Majesty and our Creator,
Jesus Christ the Incarnate Word who is our brother and Saviour,
and the Holy Spirit, our Advocate and Guide,
be with you and remain with you, this day and forevermore.
AMEN”

http://www.allsaintsbrookline.org/prayers/prayer4.html

See, my “big thing” that has consumed me for years is the idea of the kingdom of God.  I have explored it, studied it, asked others about it, prayed about it, blogged about it (obviously), and generally meditated on the concept for awhile now.  What most excites me about the kingdom of God–and what I think we so often miss–is that, not only does it exist to some degree right now on earth, we have a job to do within it.  We are citizens of this kingdom, created for a specific purpose–for our “good works,” as Paul describes them in Ephesians 2:10.  I find that idea of a purpose, a job, in God’s kingdom to be very energizing.  The idea of Christianity being a set of rituals or a group of rules and regulations drains me, but the idea that Christianity consists of work in a kingdom meant to draw people to their Creator…well, that’s just cool.

But you see, my excitement over my job presupposes that I am already a citizen in God’s kingdom–which I am–but it tends to overlook the sacrifice that allowed me to be a citizen in the first place.  I saw this reality clearly tonight when I was reading Ephesians 1:1-14.  There were several parts of this section that I liked, but I got really excited about the middle section:

 God has now revealed to us his mysterious plan regarding Christ, a plan to fulfill his own good pleasure. ¹⁰ And this is the plan: At the right time he will bring everything together under the authority of Christ—everything in heaven and on earth. ¹¹ Furthermore, because we are united with Christ, we have received an inheritance from God, for he chose us in advance, and he makes everything work out according to his plan.

Wow!  Isn’t that amazing??  The mystery of God’s will, which He has revealed to us, is that He will bring everything together under the authority of Christ!  And I believe that that process has already started in the lives and Spirit-led actions of believers!  It is so exciting!  In fact, it was so exciting to me that I thought I would copy that whole section.  And that’s where I realized something:  to get to verse 9, you had to go through the previous eight verses, in which Paul marvels at length about how amazing it is that we even get to be citizens in God’s kingdom (he calls it children of God).  Without paraphrasing at all, here are some things that God has done for us, as elaborated and celebrated by Paul:

1.  ”God…has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly realms because we are united with Christ.”

2.  ”Even before He made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in His eyes.”

3.  ”God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to Himself through Jesus Christ.  That is what He wanted to do, and it gave Him great pleasure.

4.  ”So we praise God for the glorious grace He has poured out on us who belong to His dear Son.”

5.  ”He is so rich in kindness and grace that He purchased our freedom with the blood of His Son and forgave our sins.”

6.  ”He has showered His kindness on us, along with all wisdom and understanding.”

That, my friends, is the text of Ephesians 1: 3-8.  As I copied, I was so eager to get to verse nine that I found myself getting impatient with the way that Paul was going on and on about how wonderful it was that God chose us and forgave us and gave us grace and blah, blah, blah.  Let’s hurry up and get to the part where I have a job!

And that’s when it hit me.  I have gotten so focused on my role that I have stopped marveling at the fact that God has even given me a role in the first place.  That’s the real miracle.  

I decided to stop copying at verse 8 and just focus on those verses for awhile.  I think I need to revisit their message.

It was good.

On the resolution front, I met my running quota and read through the Bible (although, I admit I had to finish early, as I can only take so much of the esoteric carnage of the minor prophets and Revelation.  I know you should not rush through the Bible, but I struggle to understand that last bit).    I blogged about my desire to live a life of love, and while–shockingly–I don’t think I mastered that, God did teach me a lot about loving this year.  Particularly, He brought to light some selfishness and pettiness in my own heart that keeps me from loving others like I should.  This year, I long for freedom from such pettiness.  I know how to love deeply, but I long to love selflessly.

In fact, I have several longings as I start the new year.  I guess that’s weird because I’m not coming off a bad year, so shouldn’t I be more content?  I think that I am content in the important ways…but I still have hopes for the new year.  I hope, for example, that my new semester of teaching goes well, and that I’m able to successfully balance it with homeschooling.  It’s only one class, two days a week, so my hopes in this area are high.  I hope we are able to sell our house in South Carolina and do so without losing tons of money.  I hope that Luke and Anna find some real friendsthis year.  Not just people they get along with, not just people I set up playdates with, but friends who love them and actively want to spend time with them.  I hope to actually do some writing on that book that has been in my head for three years.  I hope to lose five pounds.  I hope that all the disparate parts of our church continue to congeal into a family–a family who is open and transparent with one another, a family who spends lots of time together, a family with one clear mission.   And most of all, I hope that God leads me deeper into Him and His will.  I hope that He teaches me more and more what it means to live every second of my life for Him.  I long for that.  I hunger for that.  But with all my longing and hunger, I still spend a lot of time confused and with a vague sense of failure.

So basically, I am a mass of hope and longing as I watch the last of this year ebb away.  To clear my mind, I am working on action steps, trying to noodle out my own role in resolving all this hope and longing.  Here’s what I have so far:

–Pursue God daily in tangible ways–and have someone hold me accountable in my relationship with Him (I am already working on this one).

–Pray daily for our church and for friends for our kids…and put into action several of my ideas for both.

–Run 175 days this year, and do some form of other exercise daily.  (We’ll see how that one holds up.  I’m okay with the running, but I have grown to loathe exercises.)

–Prepare thoroughly and in advance for all teaching endeavors.  (I have already started on this one, but it’s still too early to figure out exactly what that looks like.  At minimum, my goal is to have all classes and homeschool lessons prepared by the start of each week.  No “night before” stuff.)

–That leaves writing.  I may come back to update this, but right now my goal is to do something for my writing every weekday.  It could be as simple as jotting down an idea or looking up a verse.  Hopefully, it will usually involve more than that, but that’s the minimum.  It’s such a daunting task for me, and small steps give me strength.

I have also been really convicted lately about acting justly, especially in the realm of my role as a consumer.  Honestly, though, my fire died out in the holiday season, as I found myself doing things like running to Wal-mart at the last minute and buying M&M’s for my Christmas game at a kids’ party.  And also, I must admit, the seeming apathy on these issues from the Christian community often dampens my resolve and makes me wonder if I am crazy for thinking my purchases are something God cares about.  That’s why, for me, the issue of acting justly folds into my first resolution.  I must continue to purposefully seek God and ask Him what He wants from me, and I must have accountability both to help me interpret Him correctly and to make sure I obey the instructions I read in His word.

And I think that about wraps it up for my hopes, longings, and resolutions for 2013.  What about you?  Do you have any hopes or resolutions?

Author:  Julie Clawson

Date Published:  2009

What’s in it:  The book presents an informed, practical case for ethical consumerism.  After an introduction which encourages you not to panic and inspires you to take concrete action, Clawson organizes her book into seven chapters, each of which discusses an area of spending:  coffee, chocolate, cars, food, clothes, waste, and debt.  I’m going to be honest:  I mainly read the sections on coffee, chocolate, and clothes, because that’s where I am in my journey (and I’m just starting to think about clothes).

Why I recommend it:  If you are even marginally interested in ethical spending, this book provides a great, non-overwhelming introduction to the issues.  The book’s format lets you skip to whatever area interests you, and the chapters are fairly short (around 20 pages each).  In those pages, Clawson delivers lots of information through a casual, readable style.  I particularly love the depth at which she looks at Scripture.  My favorite part, however, is that each chapter ends with resources for further study.  It is through this book that I found the three others I am currently reading.

Any drawbacks?  This book functions well as an introduction to the issues, but I (and most certainly the author herself) would recommend further study.  After all, twenty pages per chapter is not much when you include, as Clawson does, personal stories, little anecdotes, global history, Scripture analysis, and action steps.  Still, this book is a great place to start informing yourself about slavery issues and ethical consumerism.

Favorite quotes:

“All too often I find that conversations that involve changing our lifestyles result in us feeling overwhelmed at the sheer immensity of the problem.  There is too much hurt out there, too much that needs to change, and too much to tackle all at once.  From just becoming aware of the needs in the world, to realizing that our lifestyle choices make a difference, to understanding how our faith informs how we approach justice issues, we can feel shaken to the core.

Encountering new ideas and allowing those ideas to change who we are is a huge step for most of us.  Too often we live compartmentalized lives that don’t allow for the different spheres of our existence to interact.  Church is separate from shopping.  Our morning latte doesn’t connect with our volunteer work…Our waste disposal habits are removed from our politics.  They each exist separately and apart in our hectic lives.

But encountering justice issues changes all that.  Our lives are no longer just a series of unrelated tasks and errands with the occasional leisure activity thrown in when there’s time.  Our lives are part of a bigger picture.  Our local, everyday choices reverberate around the world.  And at the center, pushing and informing all of those choices, is our faith.”  (From the “Warning” at the beginning of the book)

“I don’t doubt that nearly all of us morally oppose forcing children into slavery.  We may feel tricked into unknowingly participating in oppression just because we like to eat chocolate, but the problems continue because most people…are unaware that they exist at all.  We are, in a sense, victims of a system that causes us to be victimizers.  No parent would request the kidnapping, beating, and starving of other children so that they could serve chocolate cupcakes at their child’s birthday party, but nonetheless, this is essentially what happens.” (From p. 57)

I found my copy of this book at my local library.  It’s currently available at half.com for less than $5.  In fact, if you are interested in reading it, but can’t afford it, send me your address, and I will order one for you!

“As long as God’s kingdom has to be fought for, it is more important to be dressed for work–ready for action--to make an effort to do something in keeping with God’s plan, often against the whole weight of the world.    A practical way exists, and we must be ready for this with our whole being.

‘But,’ someone may ask, ‘What sort of thing, exactly, are we to do?  What will truly serve God and his coming reign?‘  This is a serious question; no human being can answer it.  We have to learn to live in what is coming from God every day and to carry a light from this awareness into the darkness…

Anyone whose attention is fixed on the coming reign of God and who wants to see a change brought about in God’s house will become more and more aware that there exists a universal wrongness that is pulled over us like a choking, suffocating blanket.He will know that the thing to do is to take hold of God’s hand so that there is some effect on this night, so that at least a few areas are made receptive to God’s truth and justice and are made ready to receive God himself.  But to do this work we have to have a light.  With this light we can then illuminate every corner where we have some work to do…

Let us keep staunch our eagerness to do whatever comes to us of the truth.  Then there will be knocks on our door, over and over, and God’s coming will not be hidden.  For devoted hearts the light will keep dawning from him who is merciful and compassionate.

The work for God goes on quite simply in this way; one does not always have to wait for something out of the ordinary.  The all-important thing is to keep your eyes on what comes from God and to make way for it to come into being here on the earth.  If you always try to be heavenly and spiritually minded, you won’t understand the everyday work God has for you to do.  But if you embrace what is to come from God, if you live for Christ’s coming in practical life, you will learn that divine things can be experienced here and now…”*

I don’t think I could read about the darkness in the world if I didn’t have hope in God.  Because of my faith in Him, I have hope that there is something for me to do on this earth, something that can bring light and make a difference to others.  And I know that to do that, I have to always look to Him and follow His guidance.  The problems are too big for me to solve, so clearly, solving them is not my job.  My job is to obey the nudges of the Holy Spirit and to spread love and light to the places the Spirit shows me.   I think I can manage that.

*quote taken from:

Blumhardt, Christopher Friedrich.  ”Action in Waiting.”  Watch for the Light:  Readings for Advent and Christmas.  Farmington, PA:  Plough Publishing House, 2001.

There is a 100% chance you will be hearing about these issues here in the future.

Consider yourself warned:).

1.  I am thankful for how well my children get along.  A few weeks ago, a friend asked me if my children are close.  Now, of course, they do squabble with each other, but the answer to her question is, yes, they are close.  Sometimes even weirdly so.

For example, here they are wearing matching outfits.  This was ALL their idea.  I tried to dissuade them from it, but they would not be moved.

And here they are sharing my jacket in Kroger, because, according to them, it was “FREEZING.”

2.  I’m thankful for wonderful parents, who always love, support, and encourage me:

It means so much to me when my mom tells me I’m a good mom.  I guess it’s because she is the best mom I know, and so her I value her opinion on the matter.

3.  I’m thankful for all the good movies that are out.  I love watching movies, and yet, so often, there are not any movies worth seeing.  Right now, my list of “must see’s” is quite long:  Argo, Lincoln, Skyfall, Flight, Wreck-it Ralph, The Hobbit.  WOW.  That has got to be a record!  I’m not sure when and if I will get to see them all, but I am thankful to have that fun to look forward to.

4.  And I’m thankful for a husband who, for some odd reason, seems absolutely smitten with me:

5.  I am giddily thankful for the fact that the NASHVILLE PUBLIC LIBRARY HAS A MOBILE APP!  And yes, that proclamation is worthy of all caps.  Seriously, for months–months, people!–I have been bemoaning the fact that our otherwise wonderful and exemplary library system has no mobile app.  As I look up books, put in requests, and renew books almost daily–if not multiple times a day–I have longed for a way to do these things easily on my phone.  I have searched the app store for such an app, just knowing that it had to exist.  Not finding it, I have complained to several of my friends about the library’s tragic oversight in this area.  But this morning, I made an amazing discovery, via the Nashville library website:  they do have an app.  In fact, they have probably had it for awhile, and I just didn’t notice.  And if possible, it is even more wonderful than my mental daydreams of it.  I kid you not, when I found out this wonderful information, I squealed, did a little happy dance, and ran and told Greg.  This is a game changer, guys.  Game. changer.

6.  I’m thankful for Nashville’s autumns.  After spending most my life in the deep(er) South, the phenomenon of leaves that change color and fall off the trees continues to blow my mind daily.

7.  I’m thankful I get to watch my children learn.

8.  I am thankful for our wood-burning fireplace in our kitchen.  And I am thankful for woods behind our house.  And I am thankful for a husband who cuts wood and starts a fire, without fail, at the request of any family member.

9.  Speaking of my husband, I am so thankful for what a wonderful man he is.  I was just thinking the other day of all the things he does around the house, big and little, and I came up with this list:  makes and tends fires in the fireplace and outside fire pit; fixes anything that is broken, and if he can’t, arranges for a professional to come; takes care of our budget and finances; does all outside yardwork; washes the cars; handles the thermostat (seriously, until I thought of this list and asked him, I did not know where the thermostat was); takes out the trash and brings it in (no small feat with our massive hill of a driveway); handles any and all computer malfunctions; figures out how any given item in our house works and then explains it to the rest of us (the latest example is our telescope); helps out with science experiments for homeschool (mine is more of a “humanities-leaning” mind); makes sure all the doors are locked at night; introduces me to new music, and keeps me updated on general current events (basically, I live happily under a rock, and Greg is my connection to the larger world); and I’m sure there’s more.

10.  I’m thankful that November 1 marked one amazing year in Nashville.

This little note was waiting in Greg’s car the other day.  It was from two of his teens.  He absolutely loves his job, and it makes me happy to see him so happy.  He gets to see his teens everyday at the after school program, and he tutors them daily, goes to their school and sports events, and takes them on all sorts of fun trips.  Several of them have referred to them a second (or a first) father to them, and it is clear that he plays that role in many of their lives.  My favorite comment came when he was taking two teens, a brother and a sister, home one night, they passed a Greek Orthodox church, and the sister inquired about the meaning of “Greek Orthodox.”  It was a simple question, but when Greg explained, the boy asked in outright amazement, “How do you know so much??  Wow…it should be illegal for one person to know that much stuff.”  I remember feeling the exact same way about my own dad, and I smile every time I think about that comment.

I also smile when he relates so-and-so’s progress on her 6, 7, and 8 times tables, knowing that Greg has promised her Tacquis if she memorizes all of them.  Or when he tells me about how he is mentoring an incarcerated young man as part of a local Christian program to rehabilitate prisoners.  I am so incredibly thankful that my husband is doing work that both fulfills him personally and helps to spread God’s kingdom.  I’m so thankful to be able to support that work as his wife.

11.  I’m thankful that we get an extra hour of sleep tonight!

So do you see what I’m saying about the Facebook thing?

What are you thankful for?