Tuesday, July 9, 2013

I'm counting

The first day since recovering. 
Seeing the 4th from behind the window. 
Lying low.

And today. Rejoicing in feeling better.  Loving normal.  Really appreciating.

Windows down.  Breezing down the road.  Enjoying a summer day. 

Music taking me back.  You know, now the oldies.
Singing.  Smiling.  Almost painful the feeling.

Another summer.  Long ago.

Carefree.  Barefoot.  Days on the beach.  Best friends.
A boyfriend too. Sweet romance. 
Still riding my bike.  All over town.  Innocent carefree days.

But today.  Another season.  Still summer but another season.

Empty nest. Getting older.

A new chapter.  A new kind of summer.

Still feeling the girl.   
But only a glance in the rear view mirror.  Reversing the daydream.
Seeing the gray.  Seeing the years.

Nearing another birthday.  A big one.

What happened to the girl?  The summer?  The dreams?

What happened to us all?  Those fortunate enough to share the view from here.

No life without scars.  Often deep pain.  Still. 

But this I know.  One thing I have learned.  To stop living life like an emergency.

Because the moments.  All we have.

Our choice.  How to live them.

And I am counting these days. 
Not the days until I turn sixty.  No.  Not that.

Counting the gifts.  The everyday gifts.

The unfolding beauty of the moment. 

This I learned from Ann. 
Ann "without the e".
Not a Pollyanna sort of thing.
No.  Not that either.

A deep abiding faith in the hand of the Creator.
Sovereign over life.
Redeeming.  Turning ugly into beautiful. 
Loving unfathomably.
Giving gifts daily - if we see.

So I am looking.  Being reminded daily.

To appreciate.  To see.  Not to miss.

And so I count.

Singing in the car. 
Blueberries sweet and juicy in buckets.  Fuzzy peaches heavy in a brown bag.
Laughing with a friend.  Windows down.  Carefree.
Seagulls wheeling.  
Fields full of corn standing tall.
Flags waving in the breeze.  Roadside stands.  Produce piled high. 
Fluffy white clouds, jaw-dropping; reminders of tropical trips.
Mailbox stuffed full.  Aqua door welcoming.
Sharing a sweet kiss.  Husband helping with dinner.  Best friend goodness.
Dinner with a guest.  Laughing some more.  Summer food filling.
Patio overflowing in the warm; flowers, butterflies, bees.
A hummingbird.  Birds twittering; a cacophony.
Sun sinking low.  Tall pines a silhouette.  Sky smudged with pinks.
Dusk velvety and soft.  Fireflies. 
Barefoot warmth.  End of day slows.
Nothing more beautiful. 
Than the moment.

Slowing down to see.
Counting the gifts easy to overlook.

And when a day is hard.  Even many days.  Or most.
Still I choose.
To be grateful.  To be thankful.  To count.  

Always something for which to bend the knee.
But, indeed, a discipline.

Easier on a summer day such as this. 
But still counting on other days.  Because a decision.
To live this wild and beautiful life full of joy.

For it is out of His hand that we accept the gifts.
And in the counting; worship.

There may be hardship.  There may be pain.  But always gifts for the one who sees.

And in the looking; living a life.
Where every moment is "holy, ordinary, amazing grace".

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