and I gingerly roll out of bed. The strengthening exercises I did have made my legs so sore I can barely walk. I carefully sneak a glance into the rooms to assure myself everyone else is still snuggled down into bed. I straighten a cover here, smooth the hair there, and soak in the sight of my children sound asleep.
As I quietly make my way into the kitchen and flip the coffee pot to on I stand there waiting for that first cup. The fragrance begins to fill the air. I breathe deep and grab my mug. After my coffee is fixed and I have had that blissful first sip I make my way to Tanner to let him out. His soulful brown eyes are fixed on me as I enter the room and he sticks close as I clip his leash and we make our way outside. I stand there and feel every inch of me begin to come alive. It is cool, the sun is beginning to rise and the trees are alive with every bird singing its heart out. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Do you ever have those moments you would freeze if you could? Like you want to stay RIGHT there for a little bit longer than the second hand ticks one journey around the clock? But time marches on. It does not stop for anyone. Not the grieving families, the angry friends, or the blissfully happy.
Then it hits me.
Why that moment is so vivid, so beautiful. It is because in that moment I am fully there. I could journal a page or two about how the cool breeze is slowly, teasingly lifting my hair. How the smell of the freshly cut grass has dew that looks like drops of diamonds that shimmer in the early morning light. How cool, wet and soggy Tanner's paws feel when he stands on his hind legs and plants the front ones on my leg. How when I breathe deep I taste spring. Sadly I realize this is rare for me. Mostly I can say of the moments that fill our days, I breathed through it and we survived it. The days can be long. And hard. And chaotic. My senses get overwhelmed and I feel myself pulling into my own thoughts.
So I resolved something. I resolved to pick a few minutes many times each day to stop and engage fully with whatever is going on. To stop rushing from one thing to the next and simply stop and to BE ALL THERE. And when I am all there, then I can truly, truly utter thankfulness for what He has bestowed. I am thankful for the silly dog that spends more time eating grass than taking care of his business. His sweet paws that are soggy, cool and wet, well they are sign of life and of a furry animal that loves us seemingly unconditionally. I am thankful for the melody that arches and swoops from one tree branch to the next as the birds fly from spot to spot. I am thankful for the fragrance and steam wafting up from a fresh cup of coffee and the warmth of it in my hand as I gaze across the back lawn. I am thankful for a space to write and the ability to do so. Because life, for me, is more richly lived as ink on paper. The flow of a pen as it races across the page or the tip tap of my fingers pecking a keyboard. This is to me the way I remember, hope, dream, and live this one life I have been given.
Now to go and live that life well...