Gratitude

Today, in continuing the struggle to stay in His present presence and to abide in Him—trusting Him with all things—I’m practicing gratitude.

Today, in this moment, there is so much uncertainty. The future of so many of the things I care about is unknown. I want to reach out and try to control those outcomes. I want to shelter the people and relationships that matter to me. I don’t want to give up. But I’ve reached a place (again), where I feel He’s leading me to let go. I don’t know how to do that; it’s not easy for me. I come up with solutions involuntarily. I don’t know how to let go. I think it’s called surrender.

One of the best things Jesus has taught me in the last couple of years is that I must learn to be present with Him. Because He is present. He is “I am.” And in this present moment, in learning to smell the roses—to taste the food—to open my heart more to the person sitting across from me—I am grateful.

I’m grateful for the November sunrise that paints the sky pink today. I’m grateful for the blue water that laps the shore in the stillness. I’m grateful for my children who struggle with open faces and wholehearted honesty. I’m grateful for my husband who chooses again to be my champion.

I’m grateful for friends who not only love me unconditionally and fiercely, but who also trust me with their own struggles, their own pain. There are so many of you. So many of us who’ve weathered storms together and have learned how to link arms even if we don’t agree on everything.

I have this huge, evolving family. I have access to resounding worship, the church coming together, raising her voice in passionate devotion to the One who is with us and for us all the time.

I have this family, these parents, who form a rock for my feet. No matter how big the stormy waves rise, my rock is higher.

I’m grateful today, and that brings me peace. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I don’t need to know. All I have, all any of us has, is right here and right now.

I feel the sun on my face and it is kind.