on gratitude

We talk of "expressing gratitude." This Thanksgiving, I've had a difficult time doing it. Not because I don't feel gratitude, but because I feel so incredibly grateful and humble and blessed that I find no words do it justice. 

Saying "I am thankful for my home" feels so insufficient. I am grateful for my home. But it goes so much deeper than that. I feel incredibly humbled and thankful for where I live. My home, my neighborhood, my town, my state. Idaho is a beautiful, bounteous place. I love it so. And for the fact that I can be here. That we have means and opportunity and resources available to us.

I can say "I am grateful for my family" but it doesn't do it justice either. I cannot express the joy and happiness I felt this morning when Charlie came into my bedroom, where I was reading on my bed, and said, "Mommy, can you get me some break-frast?" in his little 2 year old voice. I cannot express in words how my heart burst when I dropped Ana off at a birthday party a few weeks ago and realized how beautiful her heart is. She was one of only two that showed up, and I stand amazed at her ability to see others, and be a friend to everyone. I cannot express my love for my husband when he works so hard, and is sometimes weighed down by his responsibilities, wondering if he is doing right by the little people that he is entrusted with each day. I cannot say even a part of what I feel when I think of my little family. 

Or my larger family. My siblings who are my best friends and my support system. We can laugh and cry together and are fiercely loyal to one another. My parents who raised me in light and truth. My gratitude for them goes beyond words. And for my friends who have been like family to me through the years and our journey. They still continue to buoy me up and help me along. I am so so grateful.

This year, as I have had a more focused scriptural study, I have learned so much about God. I have felt His love and His goodness. I cannot express my gratitude for His shining influence in my life. I have had moments of profound humility and gratitude. Moments that have rendered me (ME!) speechless. As much as I love to talk and think and write and read, sometimes there are just no words. 

In the Book of Mormon, Ammon meets his brethren along a road after their missions are complete. He expresses joy in their blessings. One of his brothers said to him, "I fear thy joy doth carry thee away unto boasting."  His response is one of my favorites in all of scripture: 

 "I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold, my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God. Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; ... for which we will praise his name forever." (See Alma 26:10-12)

There is so much to be thankful for. 

on reading

Most weeks Dave has a day during the week where he is home. Whether it is because he is post-call or working the evening clinic, or gets a weekday off because he is working the weekend, he is around a lot more while the kids are at school.

He doesn't quite know what to do with himself. Years of having NO time for yourself sometimes means you forget what to do with yourself when you have a chance.

I went to bed sick on Monday, and he was on call that night. He was up at 5 a.m. with a call and stayed awake. He let me sleep and got the kids up and going to school and took care of Charlie. After school I took the cub scouts on a field trip and Ana had activity days so he took the younger kids to the store for a bit. That night he said to me "I feel like I didn't get anything done today."

I knew what he meant. That is how I feel most days. All the things I do get undone by the end of the day or need to be done again the next day. Some days it feels like I don't actually do anything. Because the work of a housewife is so much easier than in the past, sometimes it feels like I'm doing nothing at all. I load a dishwasher, or a washing machine. But I don't mend clothes or make butter. I don't often have a "product" at the end of the day. And I certainly don't have any sort of expertise that people need.  It can be frustrating and lonely and depressing.

But, I have read 42 books so far in 2017. I've read non-fiction and fiction - religion, social sciences, young adult and children's lit and classics and poetry. Not all the books I read are great. (I call those my "treat" or "junk food" books. Books that are just fun and light and easy and enjoyable, but not really substantial.)

People ask me how I have time to read so much. Now, four of those books were audio books and another 12 I read out loud to Dave. (We started doing that about a year ago and have really enjoyed our reading time together.) So 26 I have actually sat down and read by myself. That averages to 2.5 per month. I don't think that is all that much truthfully. But even if it seems like it, I make time because I need to read.

I make time to read because I love it. I make time to read because it uses my brain in a meaningful way.  I read to be entertained, to escape, to explore, and to learn. I read to know I am not alone,* to know that I am connected to a larger, intricate world. In reading I understand myself better, I find compassion for others, and I learn about God.

I read because it accomplishes something. It cannot be undone. At the end of the day, when there are dishes in the sink, and laundry in the baskets and toys on the floor, (even though I washed dishes and folded laundry and picked up toys), I finished something. Or at least got closer to finishing something.  I learned. I grew. My understanding of the world expanded just a bit. That's worth it to me. That's why I read.


*this idea is based off of a quote from the movie "Shadowlands" about CS Lewis. "We read to know we are not alone." I watched that movie years ago and I think about that idea often.