This week, we squeezed in a Christmas show before the process of moving to a new house consumes our every waking hour.
Ricky stood and danced through the entire thing, clapping his heart out. He was bonus entertainment and contagious joy for everyone sitting around us.
At home, packing continued. We’re attempting to survive with as little as possible until December, which makes me a creative genius of sorts. Or at least someone who can make do with one pot and a questionable measure of optimism. No matter.
We also are learning to play checkers. Every time Ricky jumps one of my pieces, he throws both hands toward the sky and unleashes a disturbingly perfected evil villain laugh. After a few games I began to wonder if I was accidentally teaching him world domination.
So unconvinced, I tempered my little supervillain with lessons in gratitude and crafts. It is almost Thanksgiving and nothing speaks thankfulness quite like glue, glitter, and construction paper, right?
Even our nightly prayers reflected gratitude this week. It was here that Ricky informed Jesus just how thankful he is for horse racing at Delaware Park and Halloween.
I decided to just leave that one alone.
My point is, it’s easy to think gratitude belongs in quieter seasons, when everything is settled and life is behaving itself.
That’s certainly when it’s easiest.
But perhaps we need it most in the middle of chaos, when the future is uncertain, the to-do list is ridiculous, and the house is slowly disappearing into cardboard piles.
Sometimes gratitude isn’t about having everything figured out. It’s about remembering what’s good while you’re still unsure.
It’s about slowing down long enough to choose moments and memories.
A Christmas show. A little boy dancing. A new house slowly becoming possible. A child learning to be thankful, even if his priorities are somewhat askew. And one very enthusiastic checkers villain.
Thank you, Jesus.
Ashly, I