Years of teaching leaves me with traditions that promote the creativity in the young ones.
It's Saint Patrick's Day Eve.
There are traps to make.
Catching a Leprechaun takes over all their senses.
There is pure delight.
I have relished every year of watching the traps being built.
Some more glamorous than others.
Those silly creatures turn over the chairs and tear the room apart.
And always leave a Pot O' Gold.
The milk turns green.
Last year the resident redhead discovered even the toilet water turns green.
This year that redhead resides with King of Kings.
And the years of traps and fun come flooding through.
It trips me up.
It's these unexpected things that drive you to your knees.
It's these moments that I cry out to God in heaven to take this burden from me.
It is too heavy to bear.
I can not stand under it's weight.
It presses me further and further into the deep.
The fog descends. It is a protective mode.
I hear the girls giggles and talk as they work out their plan.
But my heart is heavy.
I step one moment at a time into gratitude.
I push aside the fog.
I am grateful for;
memories. grace. years of traps and green milk
Blue eyes, lopsided grin
1,000 conversations, the relationship my kids had,
A Savior that will never let us go, Quiet, A bag a day
My farmer, sleep, help each day for the farmer
doctors and nurses, journaling, the sun
warm weather, hope
It is only in the daily choosing thankfulness that we will overcome the grief and heartache that can befall us. I don't understand how to this; but I am trying. Each and everyday. Time spent in the word, time in quiet reflection and prayer. Being still. Letting God speak to me. Remembering that this is not our home. And looking to love others -stepping outside of myself and giving as Jesus commanded. So step into thankfulness on this cold, wintry, it's supposed to be closer to spring, but looks like the dead of winter time. Reach for the hope. Cling to what you know.