Monday, October 18, 2010

Counting Monday Multitudes....

This morning I send one of the boys upstairs to pull from walls and bring down my two treasured icons to teach the boys about Russian and Greek iconography as we study iconoclasts of eighth and ninth centuries in The Story of Christianity, our Church history book. I struggle to tell them of icons, how they are "written," not "painted," how they are written starting with black and ending with white and gold, showing the journey from dark to light, how I find them valuable in my own prayer life.

Yesterday as I prayed through John Baillie's little gem, The Diary of Private Prayer, I found myself thanking God for ALL things, something I struggle to do.

Well, I have worries and concerns. We all do. I pray that I can learn to accept them with a grateful heart and, placing them at His feet as a holy offering, leave them there. You see, I rather tend to put them there, leave them for a little bit, then scoop them back up and run off with them to worry over them on my own. If only I could leave them there. I pray for His help in conquering this tendency of mine, though I rather think it may be a lifelong battle against my own nature, with God's help.

Today as the low-hanging clouds dampen the daylight hours, making the fall sunshine wary, I push aside a grayish mood and continue to count the multitudes this Monday, on my way to A Thousand Gifts, starting the week with gratitude:

361. God's grace in providing work for Keith.

362. A long weekend at home with my girl, watching movies.

363. Flannel sheets.

364. Dear, dear friends who love me despite my spotty correspondence.

365. Autumn poems brimming with autumn color.

366. Benjamin insisting that when I call him a "nut," that I expand this nickname to "a pistachio with a blue pancreas, a rainbow brain, one-eighth bunny, with a zebra-striped liver." Gotta love ten-year-olds.

367. The joy Jonathan takes in his music.

368. The joy Timothy takes in his artwork.

369. The joy Elizabeth takes in her college experience.

370. Late-night kisses beneath Irish-chain quilt.

Giving thanks in ALL things this day, and I pray, every day,

holy experience

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