Being Thankful—a Reminder

Have you ever gone out of your way to do something nice for someone, only to have them reject it? Or even worse, criticize you for it? Or perhaps someone wanting a favor came and demanded it of you, instead of asking nicely. Doesn’t feel very good, does it? Continue reading

A Lesson in Gratitude

Have you noticed that God never wastes an opportunity to make us more like Him?

My latest lesson was last week, on New Year’s Eve. I’d been in bed since the day after Christmas with some sort of cold or flu. I had a fever, complemented by a disgusting runny nose and a side order of aches and pains. My head felt as if I’d inhaled a buffalo, which was aggressively beating its huge head against the insides of my sinuses. My headache throbbed in time with my pulse. I had to squeeze my eyes shut against the pressure every time I cleared my throat.

Needless to say, there would be no parties for me that evening. Pete offered to stay home too, to feed me chicken soup and hot tea. What a sweetie.

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A June Thanksgiving

BF fire sign_LAH_4025What are you thankful for? We usually ask that question in November, and here it is June. More often than the answer includes our family, our friends, our good (if it is good) health, perhaps a special possession or two.

After a week or more of evacuations, fire, and loss, many here are incredibly grateful to God, and to the firefighters and other first responders who risked their lives on our behalf. Everywhere you look, there are signs of thanksgiving. I mean that literally.

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How Annoying!

My husband isn’t perfect.

That may come as a shock to those of you who know him. After all, he’s pretty darn close. But, it turns out, he’s human just like the rest of us.

Of course, I would have told you on our wedding day that he wasn’t perfect. I knew that—at least theoretically. But then we got married and moved in together, and lo and behold—would you believe my sweetie leaves black (or navy) sock lint on the bedroom carpeting (see evidence at right)? Shocking!!

At first, I just picked up the lint. No big deal, right? But as the months went by, it began to get on my nerves. Why should I have to pick up his lint? After all, we were both working full time. We had split the chores—why should this one be mine? A small seed of resentment was planted.

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“Oh! Flowers! How long has that been there?” It had just registered with my absent-minded husband that a pot of blooming daffodils was sitting on our normally empty stair landing. It had been there for several days, but I was still impressed. Usually he doesn’t notice such things at all.

Let’s just say that Pete isn’t the most observant guy around. This used to bother me greatly. I would buy a new outfit (a very rare occurrence, since I really hate to shop). When exaggerated mannerisms didn’t work, I resorted to more desperate ploys. “Sweetie—notice anything different?”

He would invariably answer, “Nice haircut.”

It got to be a joke. Rearrange the living room. “Nice haircut.” Paint the white hallway a lovely shade of peach. “Nice haircut.” Replace the photographs in the frames over our couch. “Nice haircut.”

In fact, the only change I could make that wouldn’t elicit “nice haircut” was to actually cut my hair.

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