|| Covered in life {..} and thankful.

It's like I'm covered in life. It's like it's wrapping me up. The memories of these past few days, when seen through eyes that are careful to beauty and gratitude, surround me like a blanket. I don't think I can quite say that as I look back over the past few months. Maybe with time. The moments of darkness and loneliness and ingratitude are like slaps in the face whenever it's their turn to swing past the door of my thoughts, or whenever they have latched themselves onto another particular memory or smell or song. Slaps in the face that bring me into an anxious place called choice. Where I can choose to allow that memory to be the reason why I am stuffing my face with raspberry pastries and spanakopita, or I can choose to let those memories be what usher me into the presence of the crucified Christ, as his Daddy turns his back on him,  because he's filled with my sin.
whoa. now that image is dusty and filled with wisdom.
Dusty like sleeves.
Like my sleeves today.
From digging up dandelions and cutting away young trees shoots and dried raspberry stalks. I am thankful for gardening gloves. And sunglasses that acted like safety goggles more than once...
And the smell of cinnamon, apples, nutmeg, cloves and maple syrup as it simmers down to apple butter.
And for cushions on wooden chairs.
And slippers.
I'm thankful for green tea, and clean dishcloths, and that sourdough comes off measuring cups after being soaked in water, and leftover party finger-food, and the book of Colossians. I'm thankful we can buy 20kg of bread flour for $14 and that I have hot water to wash the dirt off from between my toes, and that when I give Jesus my brokenness he gives me innocence and love. I'm thankful I have fingers so I can learn to play guitar, and that I can hear Audrey Assad's lyrics, and that I can read One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I'm thankful that I don't have to be good enough, that I don't have to prove I am worthy, godly, polite, nice, strong, or lovely. I'm thankful for spaghetti with fresh basil and feta at 10:11pm on a cool Sunday night.

Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world. // Sarah Ban Breathnach