Sarah is one of my favorite people. I mean, how can you not like a kind and generous, beautiful red-headed, comical, crazy-smart, dedicated mamma who does impromptu interpretive dances at work? Plus, she's a killer writer. And I love her. Forever. (You're stuck with me fo' life, Sarah. Deal with it, sister.)
She's been on the blog before (check it out here) and has her own beautiful blog.
Her Everyday Thankfuls. Such goodness.
Thank you, my friend.
Photos & Text by Sarah
As a chronic worrier, my cup, through this warped lens of worry, tends many times to appear half empty, even though I know that it's almost always full and spilling over with good things. I'll go out on a limb and assert that in this anxiety-ridden culture in which we live and take our cues, I am far from alone.
It's not something I'm proud of. I push back against my inclinations.
I have come to see thankfulness in my life as a discipline to be honed, refined, and practiced often. It is foundational and essential. It is sustaining and life-giving.
This year, I have thought a lot about what a blessing is and what it isn't. I've also thought a lot about what blessing has to do with gratitude. Here is my conclusion:
Happiness is not a blessing.
Health is not a blessing.
Circumstance is not a blessing.
Thankfulness for all of it. Regardless of any of it. That's the blessing.
Summer, for me, is a time for me to slow down, reassess priorities, and take a deep breath of thankfulness.
Sustaining, life-giving, intentional thankfulness.
When I am able to do this, my cup spills over.
I am thankful for the gift and responsibility of motherhood,
For little girls who are readers,
For this one, who still wants to share with me
I am thankful for love notes to daddy
For green grass and lazy afternoons in the sprinklers
And for fireflies.
I am thankful for the farm on Bluegrass Road,
For legacy and tradition
And new beginnings
I am thankful for giggling girls on porch steps and recycled bikes
I am thankful for the messiness of finger-painting
And for hermit crabs in the bed
I am thankful for little arms around my neck,
For red hair and new freckles
And for time alone with my baby boy, who is really not a baby anymore
(but don't tell him that).
My cup, in the chaos, in the mess, in every moment, overflows.
Sites I Dig
The Road is Home
The Seed & Plate
Sharon Covert Photography
The Define School
The Noisy Plume
Sarah Gee Photography
Fox & Owl Studio
The Stork and The Beanstalk
Mellow Yellow Photography
A Simple Little Journal
What I've Been Reading
The Girls by Emma Cline
A Land More Kind Than Home by Wiley Cash
Dark Places by Gillian Flynn
Never Broken by Jewel
Hold Still by Sally Mann