It is debilitating and defeating.
God placed the sun, moon, and stars in the sky to light the earth - so intentionally, so purposefully. Why don't I pay closer attention to the blessings He places in my life - so intentionally, so purposefully - to light my way and point me to Him?
How bright red the strawberries were as Katie dipped them in dark chocolate.
How the little neighbor girls looked at me, smiling, with their frizzy black hair piled identically on top of their heads; how the best way to get them to giggle was to dance with them in the yellow square of grass between apartment buildings.
How every night I go to sleep I pull over me the green and yellow flowers crocheted together by my grandmother's hands, which are now still.
How cool the evening air was beneath the glowing orange sunset, and how smoothly Nat King Cole flowed out my open car windows like oil being painted on canvas.
How much my mother loves me and gives me the strength to be an independent, confident, Godly woman.
How Mondays are Sabbath to me now; how rest honors God.
How it smells to open the office door every morning - like coffee, carpet, and warm paper.
How running made me realize that endurance means pushing past the point of wanting to give up; how saying that out loud came on the same day I asked God whether He wanted me to give up.
How good it feels to close my eyes.
"It starts to unfold, light in the dark, a door opening up, how all
these years it's been utterly pointless to try to wrench out the spikes
of discontent. Because that habit of discontentment can only be driven
out by hammering in one iron sharper. The sleek pin of gratitude." - Ann
Voskamp
