December is upon us. I can hardly believe it.
This time last year, I was battling demons something fierce: chronic anxiety; the horrible fear that something awful was about to happen; constant, uncontrollable tears. Can I just say that postpartum hormones and sleep-deprivation are a hideous combination? Whoever thought putting the two together would be a good idea should be strung up by his toenails for all eternity.
But hey, it’s not last year. It’s this year. (And blessed be the One who decreed that time for us mortals could only move in one direction: I will never have to relive December of last year. Hallelujah-thank-you-Jesus.)
And I can’t believe how fast the year has flown. Having four kids gives the days wings, I tell you what.
In the midst of the chaos and noise, the growing and laughing and screaming, the tears and books and love, I find myself looking at my life and thinking, How did I get to be so lucky?
Two years ago, if you’d told me that my book would be out-of-print and that I’d have four kids, including twin boys, I’d have wept and begged God to remove that cup from me.
And yet here I sit, amazed at the goodness of my life, amazed at the ways God has enlarged me so that I can rise each morning and face my life without anxiety or acedia, amazed at the joy – the crazy happiness – I feel every single day.
That’s not to say I never get down or cranky. Anyone who’s read this blog for any length of time knows it’s almost laughable how quickly I can forget how much I love my life and blow a gasket over something dopey like stepping on that &%#!* Lego again and who the *&%# left it on the floor anyway?
But it used to be that the Lego incidents defined my life. Now they’re the interruptions in what is otherwise a pretty rocking existence. (“Rocking” being a reference to how I spend large portions of my time, having babies who still nap twice a day and all.)
I know what effected this transformation.
The gift list.
I’d started noticing the gifts before I started writing them down. But the act of writing them down forced me to pay even more attention than I had before, and each time I wrote down a new gift, it reminded me of all the gifts I’d already received.
My friend Susan says there are three prayers that never fail, one of which is “thank You.” This prayer, she says, never fails to bring joy.
I’m a living testament to the truth of that.
Or in the words of Douglas Wood, “We aren’t grateful because we are happy. We are happy because we are grateful.”
Amen. Amen. Amen!
A few more of the endless reasons I am grateful – and happy:
2295. Light in the east
2296. Jane’s pink pajamas
2297. New socks for the boys
2298. T-shirts soft as sweaters
2299. A walk at Green Lake in the cloudy light of day
2300. And another in the dark of twilight
2301. A heron near the shore, silhouetted against the water. We stopped and stared, and then it lifted off, crying, a shadow winging over the dark lake.
2302. Luke took his first step today!
2303. Sun behind clouds
2304. Foggy morning
2305. Quiet moments alone outside noticing the beauty
2306. Breath, visible in the cold
Won’t you please add your voice to the hymn of grateful praise? You can head over to A Holy Experience and join Ann Voskamp’s gratitude community. Or you can just start your own list: grab whatever paper is closest and whatever writing utensil you can reach, and start naming and numbering the gifts. It will change your life. (And if you do begin a gift list, will you please let me know?)
