Gratitude

Every single day we have a choice to make: A choice to be happy or sad; a choice to be angry or agreeable; a choice to be productive or lazy; a choice to celebrate gratitude or wallow in bitterness. It is a conscious choice, mind over matter, heart over problems that can weigh us down sort of thing. What if we put all of our energy into feeling thankful for the problems that change us and shape us into better people? What if we took a good look at the joy and sometimes shear humor that comes when a situation seems impossible to handle?
This is my daily prayer, and I'm not saying that all goes hunky-dory, or that I'm a walking saint, but hey, it's worth a try! We can change our attitude with intentional focus and perseverance to do God's will each day. Feel how loved you are. Believe that you are given unique gifts and grace to carry out God's work even when you don't feel your best. Put one step in front of the other. Put one positive thought in front of the other... and go forward.
All of these thoughts are running through my brain because I caught a glimpse of something sacred. I saw love and gratitude in a deep and moving way before me as I was loading my daughter's bike into the backseat of my car. We had just finished a successful biking experience at the park. Successful in the sense that it ended with high-five's and smiles. I held onto the handle bar of Hannah's bike with the lightest touch, remaining connected under her demands of security. We did it. Her wheels turned. She braked a few times. She stopped and hiked her leg to get off the bike two or three times and I nudged and lifted her back onto the seat. Her peddle fell off and gave us a great opportunity to laugh and crack jokes about the crummy assembly job. We kept going and promised to practice again tomorrow. When we reached the car to end our trip to the park a van was pulling into the parking spot. I saw the blue tag hanging from the rear view mirror, dangling back and forth, as the van came to a stop.
I made sure Hannah was safely buckled into her seat as I walked around my car to get in. All the while I was able to sneak peaks at the fluid movements of the mother attending to her young son in the wheelchair. The automatic doors seemed to magically open, ramp lowered, and doors closed in one fell swoop. The gray-haired woman wore a loose ponytail that swayed gently as she deftly maneuvered her son, covered in a warm blanket, around the van and onto the walking path. It was almost dark. Did she just get off of work and rush to make this important date? Was this a planned outing, a scheduled therapy for the two of them? I buckled into my seat and watched the ease of her pace settle to a slow, slower, even slower step. Was she worried that the breeze would cast a chill over him? I didn't think that was it. I became aware that her purposeful steps were taken, one after the other, to look up at the trees, and out at the darkening vistas. She and he were enjoying the experience together. This was their moment. This was their gratitude. If I could have seen their faces I would bet they were smiling. It brought tears to my eyes to witness such beauty. I prayed out loud for each of them, that they would feel God's nourishing touch, that this walk would alleviate any pain and distress from the day. It did that for me. I was so grateful at that moment to see such grace, such God given grace in action.

love,
Diane