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The winding country road seemed barren this morning as the old farm truck made its way to the edge of the city for some storm preparation shopping. A crowded parking lot rendered evidence that I was not alone in a last minute quest for storm ready staples. With a list in hand the aisles were navigated with single minded intent. So many of the employees are familiar and each expressed a welcoming hello. Since school was cancelled in anticipation of the coming snow storm, there was no poverty of youngsters shouting requests to parents or guardians. I laughed out loud as one little boy announced to his mother; “Mama, I know what I want now – a box of ice cream cones.” As we grow older some things seem to remain the same. We see an item or hear about a venue and suddenly we are sure then of what we want. Sometimes what we desire is beyond our reach, even though we’ve had it before. Freedom from the burden of PD is a heartfelt desire and there are moments when the experience is almost realized. Suddenly or sometimes slowly the symptoms reemerge and one is reminded that freedom was temporary or short lived. Nevertheless, we are thankful for those moments that become hours and ultimately days when marginal, if not full, freedom from the confines of disease are experienced. A grateful heart is the seed from which the desire for symptom free living grows. Symptom treatment and prophylactic exercise provide the nutrients for that growth. My pot of thankfulness was filled with fertile seeds this morning!
As the sun sheds its cloud filtered glow from the east, the frost covered fields glisten in response. The lone plow stands rusted as it casts its shadow and unknowingly waits for the recycling heap. Its past has been fraught with red clay laden fields as it dug through the grass or leftover crops performing its task of “turning” the soil in preparation for early planting. Gone are its days of usefulness at its intended purpose and new will be its destiny as it becomes transformed into one or more useful objects at recycling. One does not grieve the giving up of the plow, but rather rejoices in the time of usefulness over so many years. Thankfulness for its utility supersedes the thoughts of its loss from the rusty metal which stands waiting midst the frost clad field. Gratitude is a strong antidote for the perception of loss with change. The day changes to night and we give thanks for the light that brightens our path. Night changes to day and we give thanks for a time where rest has been undertaken and renewal may be undertaken in its light. A hearty expression of gratitude lays a firm foundation for building a healthy new day!
In the dead of winter the leaf barren trees offer what is only a muted view of the horizon beyond the Dan River flowing past the farm. Spring brings forth leaves that obscure the vision of anything beyond the trees upon which they grow. During three of the four annual seasons, it is fair to say, one can see no evidence of an eastern horizon or that of a river flowing below. Simply because one cannot view the horizon during those seasons does not mean that horizon and river do not exist. Even in the midst of winter when leaves have fallen to the ground below the trees the view is still somewhat obscured by limbs, branches, and evergreens. As I ponder this natural phenomenon I realize that the full magnitude of God’s grace and love cannot be viewed because of the nature of the obstructions we place in the way. Time, agendas, habits, ego, grief, joy seeking and self-pity are but a few of the branches and leaves we put on the trees in our vision. As I ponder these hills in the quiet of the morning I recognize the obscurity of my vision and give thanks for this moment in which my view need not be more than that of grace.
As the plane taxied along the runway toward our arrival gate, the anticipation within the cabin was palpable. It seemed everyone was eager to disembark the vessel that had brought us from the chill of winter in North Carolina to the warmth of winter in South Florida. Slowly, row by row each passenger vacated the plane to emerge in a crowded mass of humanity, most of whom were taking with them the memories (fond or otherwise) of the cruise that had just ended. For this limping traveler, the crowd that seemed to not know where it was or where it was going was a challenge through which to navigate. Soon we were descending the escalator to claim bags that contained our possessions for the week ahead. As the crowd seemed to swell I reminded myself that there was much for which to be thankful. Gratitude for the opportunity to travel those hundreds of miles in such a short time and to be brought safely to the destination we had chosen. As I observed others I whispered words of thanks for their safe arrival and expressed silent wishes for their continued safety on their journey. As we met our granddaughter rushing to guide us to the waiting car outside the terminal we were filled with the joy that comes from a heart of gratitude. Thankfulness helps to make every potential challenge an opportunity to discover the blessing that is life!
The pond glistens beneath the bright sunlit sky as the smell of burning hardwood wafts from the chimney. Forest and fields are alive with the chatter of birds as the temperature yields a brief winter reprieve. Even the rooster exercises his lungs to notify all of his mastery of the flock as they scratch the pasture ground for morsels of tasty seed or grubs. In the sunlit stillness of the day one cannot help but marvel at the grandeur of the Master’s creation. Even a brief encounter with the out of doors on this cool and bright day inspires this life participant to give thanks for the joy of this life lived out. A heart filled with gratitude is the filter through which this day is viewed. May your lens be brightened by the light of grace and thankfulness.
Sitting now in the restful recliner and anticipating the eventual chores of the day, we are entertained by a flock of geese passing over and noisy ravens foraging the grassy field in front of the old farm house. The early rise this morning was anything but peaceful. The intense ache in the lumbar region that radiated throbbing pain in the hip was the welcoming call to rise from slumber. This visitor, insinuating itself more and more frequently into my slumber, is not a friend. It is instead a rather insistent companion. Hours removed now from the rude awakening we are grateful for the departure of the bothersome companion without having to prod with medication. An upcoming consult with a “spine” specialist may inform us whether or not the would be companion can be eliminated or tamed. Grateful for the possibilities, we move on with our day armed with thankfulness for relief and hope for release. A thankful heart filled with gratitude is the well from which hope springs forth.
Water in the old kettle atop the hot wood stove bubbles as the heat rises to warm the room. Though the sun shines bright today, the cold of winter makes itself known through every crack and crevice that is not sufficiently sealed in this old farm house. The stillness of the morning is a welcomed reprieve from the blustery winds that brought with it subzero temperatures last evening. In the warmth of the morning fire and in the presence of the shinning sun we pause to reflect upon present and past. Challenges have more often than not been turned into opportunities for growth and burdens have been lightened with a healthy dose of gratitude. Healthy reflection often illuminates the light we may often have taken for granted. Yesterday is gone, but reflecting on it in the light of today presents opportunity to brighten our path each step of the way. A thankful heart is the instrument through which gratitude brightens our vision. May we be willing instruments that grow to see the gift of grace as more than mere rhetoric. As we take it in, may we live it out!
Eager to wrap myself in layers before venturing out into the frosty morning, I grabbed the cashmere sweater and started to hoist it over my head. There it was; a large hole in the shoulder of the sweater that was not supposed to be there. This was not the first time such a discovery had been made. Just three days before I found holes in two other cashmere sweaters. I had never before seen the evidence of moths. I have never seen the bug and haven’t a clue what characteristics to look for in its identification. Yet, here was the evidence of its presence or the invasion of yet another unknown cashmere lover. No critter could be found, yet here was the evidence that the creature had paid a visit. Nine years ago I was confronted with the presence of annoying stiffness and lack of flexibility on my right side. The Neurologist said it was early onset Parkinson’s disease. Like the hole in my sweater, I had discovered the evidence of something that had destroyed cells in my brain that produce dopamine. I haven’t seen what did it, but the evidence of its work is with me every day. The cashmere sweater can be replaced, but the pyramidal cells in the substantia nigra that produce dopamine appear to be lost forever. I can’t see the lost cells, but I can see the evidence of their absence, just as I can see the evidence of the moth’s visit in the closet shelf. Also, I cannot see the God who provides a sustaining hope and inspires gratitude, but its presence is the evidence that He is here. Thankfulness in the presence of evidence creates a bond with the Giver.
Watching the ball drop in Times Square has been a New Year’s Eve tradition for many years. This time, we all headed to bed as soon as the orb had reached its destination. The first evening of the New Year was filled with restful slumber followed by the dawning of a new day. Risking the trite to uncover the truth, we inwardly glowed with joy in the thankfulness for the new day. In reflecting during the morning of this New Year the impact of realizing that every dawn is the new beginning and thus the new opportunity to live life’s blessing in its fullness filled our heart. If one has ever questioned the blessings of life by counting its challenges as burdens, one need not look further than the new dawn to recognize the opportunity for beginning with thankfulness and gratitude the new gifts of life.
She stands with ears perked as she looks out the front window. Frost covered grass in the field must look inviting to her and she is captured by the cawing of the crows prancing boldly on the old farm road. Soon she will be curled up by the sofa taking in the warmth from the generous glow of the cast iron wood stove. The bustle of the Holiday is over and Gracie the Golden Retriever can now return to a routine of runs in the yard, watchful glances through the front window and ever so peaceful naps curled at the feet of those who do her bidding. Her servants are so thankful for her presence and her aptitude for staying close at hand. Even the servant’s daughter and granddaughter stand ready for Gracie’s desire to be close and lovingly touched. The servants have been trained so well that they naively believe themselves to be the masters. In the end, whether master or servant in the mind of the beholder, it is the nature and demeanor of the relationship that generates significance. It is in the act of serving that mastery is attained, not by command, but by example.