{For Today}

The end of the day sees me slowing, my joints creak and here, stacking folded laundry in tall towers on the dining room table, here the air seems thinner somehow...its harder to breath at the end of the day.  Every step takes courage and conviction and I'm wearing thin on both.  I place piles in basket and basket on stair.  I head to the kitchen and contemplate dinner.  I try to breathe thin air.

Buttering bread for grilled cheese, I remember - there's grace in all of it, not just the fun and easy parts - and not just in the moments of life that look beautiful to the naked eye.  It has been a long time, but right there, hips popping in the kitchen with each subtle movement and kids arguing over computer time in the next room, I remember how to breathe: gratitude.

1) For a body that remembers how to come apart to bring a child into the world.
2) for three little heads crammed together in front of a computer screen, learning to read
3) for strong arms that swirl me around and then hug me close, hands cradle belly, in love with our fifth - miraculous.
4)For baby-turned-boy, padding into our room at dawn, kisses for Mama and Daddy at the beginning of every day.
5) For crumbs - yes, crumbs! - proof that He has kept His promise of provision once again, my children with bellies full, so thankful.
6) For knitting - every stitch becoming a prayer.
7) For sunshine in January, icicles melt, air smells of hope, Spring.
8) For slowing down so someone little can help - handing me dishes, pouring coffee.
9) For big brother taking little out in snow - snow balls, snow soccer, snow fun.
10) For hard days and thin air - and the things that remind us to breathe deep.