My (sometimes) grateful heart

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I’m sorry to admit that in the last 2 years I have not found it very natural to be thankful. As a matter of fact I feel sorry for myself more than I care to admit.

This morning as the alarm went off at 5 am, on thanksgiving, I was definitely NOT thankful, and I grumbled as I swung my legs over the side of my bed. I was mad that I had to get up so early and put the turkey in– annoyed that I would be up late cleaning up the house after having lots of family over and super disappointed that I would have to get up early the following morning to go to work while everyone else was sleeping in. (Yes, all those emotions in that one minute it took me to sit up, get my bathrobe on and walk towards the kitchen).

Then I flipped the light switch on so I could see my path clearly and I realized… wow, not everyone in the world has electricity. And I went into my refrigerator and pulled out the 25lb. turkey to cook, and I realized that there is enough food in there to feed a large village. I stood in my kitchen and looked around, the fire was burning hot in the wood stove, my children (including my grandson) were sleeping down the hall, and the snow was falling outside while we were all safe and warm inside.

I have very little to grumble about. As a matter of fact the things that I grumble about, are often the things that are the biggest blessings in my life. My job for example. I know for a fact that God pulled some strings to make that happen. I LOVE my job, I love the people I work with– it was literally a slap in Gods face that I would be annoyed to go to a place that I love, do the things I love to do, with the people I love doing them with– just because I had something different in mind. That’s what you call ungrateful.

So where is this all leading? Except to let you all know what a perfectly horrible human I can be?
It’s leading to the place where I had a Grinch size heart make over (most likely temporary) and I prayed, thanking God– actually praising Him– for the blessings in my life.

I walked back to my warm bed, climbed inside and pulled the covers up to my chin smiling that I was snatching another couple of hours of sleep before I had to get up again. I fell asleep thinking about all the things I was grateful for and I began to dream.
Usually when I dream it’s horrible. I can’t tell you how many times a week I dream about losing Naomi. I relive her passing over and over again and wake up with my pillow soaked in tears. I have been pleading with God for a “visit” from her, like so many other people talk about, one where it’s sweet rather than painful; and this morning, I got that.

I was sitting beside someone hazy, I couldn’t see who it was, but strangely I didn’t care. On the other side of me a hand reached and took a hold of mine. I looked to see who was grasping my hand and stroking it and there she was: I saw Naomi’s beautifully healthy face smiling at me. I could see her brown eyes sparkle as clearly as if she had actually been sitting next to my bed. There was no haze, no shadows, nothing hindering my perfect view of her cherub like face. She didn’t say anything to me, but we sat holding hands for several minutes. And then it was over. I woke up and knew this was the visit I had been waiting for. It was a gift, I won’t go as far as to say that God was “rewarding” me for my change in attitude this morning, because I don’t believe He works like that. But I wonder if maybe my sadness plays a big part in what I dream, and then the snow ball effect takes over. Which leads me to believe that the change in my thinking this morning had a snow ball effect all of it’s own.

At any rate, I had the most wonderful visit from my precious baby girl this morning, and regardless of how it came about, I am probably the most grateful woman in the world today. I’ll worry about tomorrow another time.

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One Response to My (sometimes) grateful heart

  1. Jill F. says:

    A beautiful visit from a beautiful girl on a beautiful morning.

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