Small Blessings

A Valentine's Day spent lifting up a dear friend walking through a dark valley, many states away. Sprinkled white flakes from the Heavens, bringing whispering hope: Wait on Me for blessings; you've no idea what I'll do next! Was the Lion's mane shaking out the snow on me, wild eyes glimmering tears of pain, yet also shining from joyful depths?

A flock of fifteen turkeys trailing off the corrugated dusty road, offended that my loud Oldsmobile would force quicker waddling, and make them forget what they were saying to each other. But surely they wanted to be in the pasture among craggy mesquites, dried brush... There are only so many seeds and such one can find on a road, right?

Sitting in a friend's house after the kids are asleep, waiting for the married couple to return from their date. Trying to read Dracula, dozing off, and jerking awake at the cookoo clock's abrupt clanging. Wishing for a cozy bed, but afraid to stretch on the couch and give in. Looking over at Sally, with her delicate long Sheltie nose curled up near her tail, my couch companion now that she's stopped staring out the back door at unseen terrors.

Coming home to an empty but cozy house, loading dishes while listening to Adventures in Odyssey, snacking on Ezekiel bread and homemade bean dip, slipping on comfy PJs. Building a fire in the wood-burning stove, for warmth and enjoyment, and watching the flames dance and the bed of coals settle and spread like a glowing-hot pile of pirate's hoard.

Thank you, Lord, for dappled things, and each small so-much-more You continually pour out. May I see, and listen, and thank You ever more.