January 27, 2011
His eyes catch sight of this childhood treasure. Without hesitation, he runs to it. He joyfully picks it amongst the blades of green. And so generously, walks it over and holds it out to me. "Mama, you can have this wish. Make a wish to Jesus." He says.
I pause. Contemplate. Blow the soft white petals, which float so graciously through the air. Thankfulness abounds. There are a great many things I can wish for. Things I think I need. That perhaps, will make my life more rich. And I realize. I do not need more.
Most of my life I have lived in want. Always thinking that if I only had this or that, then I could be happy. What a lie. How much I missed as I grew a heart of ingratitude. Always busy. Never stopping to appreciate just how blessed I was. Never seeing that each day was filled with beauty. Free. For the taking. For whomever chooses to notice.
I have been working on partaking in this. And have a long way to go. And people may think I am ridiculous to acknowledge things like the way a lemon smells first thing in the morning as I grate the zest off and prepare fresh bread for my family. But to me, this moment of delight is far from ridiculous, rather it is a moment of richness. And what I am realizing is this- allowing a multitude of rich moments into my day is cultivating a heart of gratitude. Of appreciation. Making the need for wishing upon a dandelion float away. Just as those soft white petals softly fall, so do my desires for more.
And so I sit in thankfulness. For a life richly blessed. For a son who thought to share his treasure, so that I could have my wish... from Jesus.
On a side note: It has been a very long time since I have been in this space. I have, yet again, killed another laptop computer with a cup of coffee. That now makes 2 computers with a cup of coffee and 1 computer with a glass of wine- killed. This experience has also led me through moments of want and moments of being content with what I have. As I was without a computer, I struggled with the feeling of desire, not to mention a great deal of other feelings. I now have access, although limited. And I am thankful for lessons learned. And a husband who supports and forgives. :) Note to self: Keep all beverages away from laptop.