sunday, when the girls went around the room sharing what they are thankful for, i realized, with the fear of a lost soul, that i have not been very grateful lately. i haven’t been intentionally ungrateful, mind you. but i have guarded my thanks a little too closely.

i think my deviation began in my praying. despite my bounty, i allowed what i lack to be my view. several well-placed voices along the way have graciously tried to remind me.

when i complained that if i wasn’t a mother i thought i deserved an amazing career and without that i felt an even greater sense of loss. a sense of not contributing anything to this life. jenn reminded me that my real job is to be my best self.

when i said i wasn’t doing very well, without asking questions nat assured me it will eventually get better. she promised a brighter day will come, but probably not as soon as we’re hoping, nor in the manner in which we think it should, but it will come.

while drinking hot chocolate i told tallie and lisa that something had to change because i just felt too sad, too hopeless, too confused and sometimes too angry. not only did they mourn with me, they shared their own burdens and i saw that we were not that different.

when i felt my heart break from loving my little niece too much and seeing how wonderful it could be – despite her busy schedule – kristen left a beautiful card on my doorstep with chocolate and flavored water.

when in these anne of green gables-like depths of despair, an email, from jamie, says she prays and fasts for me every month. that kind of selflessness overwhelms me.

through texts tally always is there to rally my spirits. one particular morning, while watching general conference, i was grateful for her friendship and so many others. tally said she had prayed the night before that there would be something for me in this conference. and there was.  

most recently while emailing a favorite mission friend who i’d lost touch with – he caught me up on his life. thankfully he is out of the rocky patches. he found strength in the book a tree grows in brooklyn. i loved the excerpt he shared with me:

“dear god,” she prayed, “let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. let me be gay; let me be sad. let me be cold; let me be warm. let me be hungry…have too much to eat. let me be ragged or well dressed. let me be sincere – be deceitful. let me be truthful; let me be a liar. let me be honorable and let me sin. only let me be something every blessed minute. and when i sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.”

i want to do more living.


9 thoughts on “thanksgivings.

  1. I needed this post tonight. In fact, as I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep, I was thinking, “I need something to snap me out of this ridiculous mood I’ve been battling for weeks. I’m going to check the blog. Maybe Robin posted.” And you did. And it was perfect.

    By the way, your amazing career should be in writing. I know I’ve said that before, but I think it every time I read one of your beautiful posts. Very few people can write like this. Just reading your blog is like therapy to me.

  2. And you have this beautiful blog- which is really a masterpiece. When I was pondering this post- your laugh snuck into my mind- it kind of sounds like a pixie laugh, did you know that?

  3. This is beautiful. And put me vividly in mind of last Thanksgiving, when after dinner with my husband’s family my sister in law insisted we all go around the table and share what we were grateful for. She gushed for minutes about her brand new baby and how grateful she was for the chance to be a parent… and by the time it got to me I wanted to curl up and cry, not be thankful for anything at all.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s