Gratitude365

This will be a quick post because we’re making our way home, aiming to beat some bad weather due tomorrow. Hopefully, if we get a good start, we can make it all the way. We’ll see.

Moving about in the motorhome, at least in 21-year-old Felix, is not always comfortable, especially when the road is bumpy. Our pup Biscuit, who was frightened of a lot of things, was never comfortable when we traveled in the RV, even laying on the couch. Yesterday, as we drove for five hours to the next stop on our way home, we intermittently commented to one another that “Biscuit wouldn’t like this,” because of some road-related noise. The more we said it, the more we felt that our decision last week was the right one.

I’m grateful for some habits gleaned from living on a boat—paying attention to the weather being one. We were at our destination and all set up by the time the predicted storm rolled through, and afterwards, when the bright sun peered out of the clouds, I wondered, Could there be a rainbow? Yes, there was! And not just one, but TWO.

There is a poem, The Rainbow Bridge, that gives me a lot of comfort these days, and the sight of a double rainbow was the Creator’s assurance that my pup is just fine.

It is the Lord who goes before you; He will be with you. He will not fail you or abandon you. Do not fear or be dismayed.~ Deuteronomy 31:8 

We’re presently visiting our son and his family as we make our way home, and I’m grateful that we were able to see our grandson play baseball! The league he’s in, https://www.miracleleague.com/, serves special needs children and young adults and provides a fun-filled experience for players and spectators alike. Paired with his Buddy, an 8th grader named Collin, my grandson is experiencing the joy of the joy of playing baseball, something that he might not be able to otherwise.

What’s very interesting is that I’ve been seeing the word ‘miracle’ a lot lately, and it’s encouraging, especially in today’s world. I’m seeing it in the title of the book I’m reading (The 5000 Year Leap—A Miracle That Changed the World), in my daily Bible readings, and now a baseball league. I’m grateful to be aware that miracles fill my world and are all around me, from the time I open my eyes in the morning to when I close them at night. God is very good to me.

 “But if I were you, I would appeal to God; I would lay my cause before him. He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted.” ~Job 5:8-9

This morning my husband’s phone rang while he was still asleep, and I would’ve let it go to voicemail but it was our daughter calling. She never calls her dad this early, and I was reluctant to answer. When I did, she asked if I’d seen the news.

“What happened?” I was almost too afraid to ask.

She told of the terror she felt just hours before when a tornado tore through the town and touched down just a mile and a half from where she lives with my two grandchildren. There was damage to her downtown business, apparently caused by the roof that had flown off a nearby building. My grandson usually works Fridays at the restaurant there, but for some reason he did not work last night. Thank God!🙏🏽 There were two employees still working when the tornado hit, though, and they escaped safely.

Since yesterday was a travel day for us, I was well aware of the bad weather that was going to hit later in the day. I’m grateful for weather forecasts that tells us what to expect and plan for. I’m grateful my daughter’s family and home were protected. I thank God for keeping my family safe.

But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord God, that I may declare all thy works. ~Psalm 73:28

Making myself write gratitude daily has been a good practice for me for a number of reasons, especially this week. Generally I’m a very upbeat person, but I found it very easy to slip into sadness, thinking about our pup who died just a few days ago. And while I know reflection is certainly worthwhile, it can morph into depression if left unchecked. I’m grateful for knowing that I really have to watch myself and notice when I begin to start falling off the beam. Instead of dwelling in the sorrow, I think of things about her that lift my spirits, and there are many. I have to do it; no one else can do it for me. It’s much more pleasurable to focus on the rose bushes instead of the thorns.

I remember precisely where I was when this photo was taken—how could I not?—on a bike path at Hillman Ferry Campground in the Land Between the Lakes in Kentucky. I was thirsty and had stopped for a drink of water. I remember that the sight almost made me fall backwards when I tilted my head to take a sip from my water bottle—it was that stunning, and all I could do was stare for however long it remained there. All I remember thinking at the time that I was blessed to have seen something like this. After all, there were so many variables that came into play that particular day for this phenomenon to happen, let alone be captured in a photograph. The timing was right.

As our winter stay here in Rockport comes down to its final day, I’m filled with immense gratitude. The decision to come here was the right one for so many reasons, not the least of which was the situation this week with our pup Biscuit. I’m grateful to be reminded to be watchful and keep my eyes open because blessings are everywhere, if I only remember to look.

And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. ~John 1:16

A staff member at the veterinary clinic we took Biscuit to called yesterday to say that her ashes were there to be picked up, whenever it was convenient. I’m grateful it’s just a short drive away, and that we arrived before they closed for the day. If we hadn’t, we would’ve had to wait until tomorrow to get them since they’re closed on Wednesdays.

I had no expectations about this entire process (putting a pet down while away from home) and it was the unknown that I feared. But if there’s such a thing as a ‘perfect experience’ in such a situation, this would be it, starting with my neighbor who just happened to walk up to me and tell me all about his very same experience that morning. The fear that I’ve harbored—what would happen if we had to do this while on the road—turned out to be a phantom emotion because the Rockport Veterinary Clinic made the process about as easy as it could be. I am so very grateful to all the compassionate staff who helped us through this very tough time.

All morning I’ve felt sad and tears flow unexpectedly, but it’s ok. Stuffing my feelings and abusing alcohol was how I used to deal with pain, and I’m so grateful that the thought of numbing myself hasn’t entered my mind (other than the awareness that that was no longer an option.) It wasn’t all that long ago that something like this would have been the perfect excuse to drink myself into oblivion, but I’ve learned that adding alcohol to any situation only makes it worse. I’m grateful that feeling sad is just being human, and I give God all the glory for keeping me sober.

When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ~Isaiah 43:2

When I woke up yesterday morning, I did not know that I’d be putting my pup down less than 12 hours later, but that’s how the day played out. As I reflect on it now, I see that God was directing things all along the way.

A recent post shared that my husband had finally reached the point of accepting that Biscuit’s health had deteriorated so much that she would probably have to be put down when we got back home next week. In addition to reoccurring tumors, her back legs had quit working for the most part, and her quality of life had declined significantly over the past year. Though I had concerns about the multi-day, 800+ mile trip and it’s effect on Biscuit (who now had real difficulty getting in and out of the motorhome) I was just grateful that there was a plan in place for when we got back.

I was outside yesterday morning, washing off items that have been sitting outside in the salt air for the past three months so that they could be packed away, when our neighbor Larry walked up. He proceeded to tell me all about putting his own dog down that very morning, actually within the last hour. Like us, he had an older dog whose time had come. As I listened, I knew there was a reason that this conversation was happening.

Since both of our pups were seniors and in poor health, I often wondered what would happen if this (euthanasia) had to be done while we were on the road. I’m grateful I learned all the details gently, instead of being in an emergency situation. My neighbor gave me all the information I needed—location, cost, etc. I especially tuned in to the fact that the veterinary staff was compassionate. That meant a lot to me.

By the time he left, I was in tears. I went inside and told my husband about what I’d learned. Biscuit was ‘his girl,’ so I was going to let him decide what to do with the information, and to my surprise and relief, he called the veterinary clinic and made an appointment for that very afternoon. Since it was a first-come, first-serve clinic, we got our other pup situated and then left with Biscuit.

I cried all the way there as snippets of the past 14 years with Biscuit played in my head. She had literally walked into our lives after being discarded in the middle of the street in Fordyce, Arkansas. We had been in an antique shop when we heard some commotion outside. We went out to see a tiny, terrified puppy who appeared to have been recently weaned. She walked straight up to my husband and when he picked her up, it was love at first sight.

We ended up waiting in the car for two and a half hours, and that gave us some quality time with Biscuit. There was a nice grassy area nearby where she got to lay for awhile, and when the time finally came to go inside the office, we were ready. The entire process could not have been more lovingly done. Everything my neighbor said was true.

Yesterday was not at all like I thought it would be, and even though it was very hard to go through, I knew it had been perfectly orchestrated by God. Everything about the process—from accepting the inevitable, to a neighbor walking up out of the blue to relate his similar experience, to putting our furry baby in the hands of compassionate people—happened at the right time. I’m grateful for all the years with Biscuit, and that she’s pain free now. Even though I’m sad, I’m grateful for the way yesterday played out. It happened just like it was meant to.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. ~Romans 8:28

I’m grateful that I hear from my daughter, who lives in another state, most every day. If she can’t call, then she’ll email or text. This morning, via email, she told me how last night’s high school baseball game—which went on longer than I could stay awake—devolved into an awful display of unrestrained behavior directed at the umpire by the head coach and many of the parent-spectators. Evidently, when all was finally said and done, it was my grandson-the-catcher who was the peacemaker amidst the brouhaha. He had managed to get the rest of the team to settle down enough to continue the game.

Learning that my grandson had risen to the occasion to squelch the uprising made me extremely proud. There is just so much anger everywhere, it seems. He’d gotten things back on track by having his teammates get back to their positions and warming up a freshman pitcher who’d pitched just once before. He even got the umpire to calm down. The game continued.

After the game, my daughter saw the umpire walk over to my grandson to shake his hand. Despite losing the game, my grandson won the respect of others, and that’s vastly more important. I’m grateful he’s learning life lessons out on the field, and that there’s more to life than just winning. I’m grateful he’s developing into a leader.

Let no one despise your youth, but be an example to the believers in word, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. ~1 Timothy 4:12

We’ve been in Rockport for three months, and not once during that time have we had neither need nor desire to go to the nearest big city, Corpus Christi. In fact, we’ve taken the ferry over to Port Aransas less than a handful of times. I’m grateful we’ve found everything we needed right here, and when we couldn’t, we ordered it online and had it delivered.

Big cities are a mess now and, except for having to drive anywhere around them, we avoid them as much as possible; in fact, it’s been five years since we drove the RV to St. Louis, my hometown. My brother, who still lives there, says, “Don’t come here—we’ll come to you. We’re always looking for somewhere else to go.” It’s gotten to be a crazy, mixed up, upside down world out there where anything goes. It’s painful to watch.

I can’t help but notice how withdrawn I’ve become over the past three years, and I reflect on that a lot because it’s contrary to my nature. It almost feels wrong. But considering all the attempts that that been made to “divide and conquer” our families, our communities, and our country, it’s easy to understand wanting to keep a low profile. I’m grateful to count serenity and peacefulness among the things that my mobile lifestyle offers.

Among the things I withdrew from these past few years were social media, watching television and going to movies. I recently got back on Facebook, but since my hiatus I find I don’t check it as often as I used to. I’m grateful for that. Instead, and also contrary to my nature, much of my early morning time is spent reading the Bible—that’s how messed up I think the world is. But it brought me closer to a God of my understanding. One that works for me when I let Him.

My relationship with God is 12 years in the making and is evolving and deepening continually. I am by no means a holy roller. I don’t even go to church. But a miracle happened when the obsession of alcohol was taken from me, seemingly overnight. Even though I was baptized and raised in the church, I didn’t really know God or His power until my need became desperate. Now I know what’s been missing in my life, and I almost can’t get enough.

Gratitude keeps my focus on what’s good in my life, not the minutia. And since I’m powerless over everything outside of me, I work on various aspects of my own self that I can control: physical, mental, emotional, spiritual. I’m grateful for sanity in an insane world.

If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master’s use, and prepared unto every good work.. ~ 2 Timothy 2:21

If ever I thought I lacked anything by not owning a home, I need only open my t-shirt drawer or clothes closet and it’s obvious: I have more than enough. Still, living in a motorhome at my age isn’t the norm, and admittedly, I compare myself to other people more than I should. I’m grateful when I realize what I’m doing and remember to be grateful. This gratitude business takes awareness.

Material things don’t matter very much to me—and actually, I’m grateful that my husband and I have pared things down such that our kids won’t be burdened with all our stuff. To be content—not wanting for anything—is a very peaceful feeling money can’t buy, and I’m grateful for it.

When I remember to live in gratitude—that is, open my eyes to everything around me—I see how very blessed I am. Awareness of what actually is takes the edge off of the anxiety that creeps up on me when I think about the future. Gratitude keeps my head in the ‘now’ and reminds me that I have everything I need today.

Give us this day our daily bread, ~ Matthew 6:11