A Month of Gratitude

I'm reading what may very well turn out to be a life-changing book: One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. It has challenged me to replace the low hum of discontentment in my soul with gratitude and thanksgiving, with eucharisteo. I'm so in. 

I find that true joy almost always surprises me. I find it in unexpected places, in unexpected forms, in unexpected degrees of strength. It appears on the scene like a flash of lightning. You can't hold on to it or predict it or tame it. You can't make it last. You can't summon it at will. It brightens things for a moment. It gives you clarity, lucidity, a hint of the vastness of all that you long for, a hint that there's satisfaction for that longing.

I know joy comes from a source outside of me, because I could never dream up the ways it shows up in my life.

I've decided to use this month to put words on the thoughts and feelings of joy. To name them. To clothe them and make them visible. I don't know the number I'll reach, but here we go.

1.  Sun-dappled autumn leaves

2.  Little fingers on guitar strings

3.  My husband's arm draped over my shoulder

4.  Leaves crunching underfoot

5.  A seat on a sun-warmed sofa

6.  Soft slippers on cold toes

7.  Hot coffee on a dark morning

There's a start.