Category Archives: Thankfulness

The Summer of Collected Memories

23 Wednesday Sep 2020

Posted by in Acceptance, Blessings, Change, Coronavirus, COVID-19, Family life, Inspiration, Intentional Living, Memories, Motherhood, Parenting, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Perspective, Rest, Seasons, Simple Living, Simplicity, Stress & Anxiety, Thankfulness, Travel

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“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” – John Lubbock

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/32939-rest-is-not-idleness-and-to-lie-sometimes-on-the

Facing a litany of summer let downs due to COVID-19, I became insistent my family, in our conscious efforts to slow down, mask up, and stay home, would still have a long list of positive memories. Oversimplified and less monumental than summers prior, it was imperative we gathered a collection of sweet, tangible experiences of our own to hold and enjoy. But, first, we would allow ourselves the space to mourn our personal disappointments: the canceled annual vacation, refunded summer camps, no pool days, declining offers to gather, not visiting loved ones with vulnerable health conditions, avoiding crowds and community, only attending virtual mass, and sorrowfully missing our friends and family. Then, we would rest and appreciate the slowness, embrace this time of stillness and isolation, and despite the litany of mourned losses, we would find a way to make the best of it—together. Although, at the beginning of this summer experiment I had rampant doubts about how we would pull it off, I believe we exceeded our goal and succeeded in our efforts to “discover joy amid the pain.”

Once virtual schooling came to a halt, my husband and I scoured Airbnb for in-state cottages and cabins to our liking, in our modest price range, and declared 2020 would be the season of locating the quaint and hidden gems nearby. The fruits of this idea did not disappoint. Intentionally, we spaced our bookings apart so we would have one adventure to look forward to every month of the summer. We filled in the downtime with ease by including treks to local parks, camping in our yard, gathering for family game nights, and letting the days unfold on their own. The choice to have a combination of planned getaways and unscheduled stretches of time spent at home attributed to a quite happy and wholesome break. By allowing ourselves the occasion to branch out toward sections of the state we’ve not visited before, and returning to the areas we favor, we discovered newfound delight in local exploration and realized ourselves more in awe of our awesome state and enamored with the town we live in.

Another unexpected advantage to the pandemic summer was the making of an outdoor retreat tucked away in the woods on the property where my husband grew up. Frequently when visiting my father-in-law, we’ve walked the area together—especially in the winter months when the overgrowth has fallen and our boots can crunch atop the frozen earth. The freedom we found this summer allowed my husband and children to embark on a project together, and they set about clearing out a more direct path from the house to the forest, lining the grassy lane with bits of wood and rock, and making the connection between the house and back property a more delightful experience for everyone involved. Now the children can roam and run free between the yard and faraway wood without the distress of thorny entanglements or fear of getting lost. The joy in carving out this special place has allowed us to share with our kids the type of summer fun we fondly remember having—hot summer days spent in outdoor intrigue, hours gone investigating the natural world, making outdoor revelations on our own, and finding a piece of oneself that can only be uncovered under the shade of a tree, breathing in the fresh air, one’s skin soaking up some Vitamin D. The chance to gift a piece of our past to our kids, to allow them to encounter for themselves the unhinged joys of a simplified and rural encounter, was an unexpected blessing of the summer—a highlight all of us agree upon.

Creating this hidden world for our family to treasure was also an opportunity for peaceful reclamation. Shielded from the cacophony of worldly anxieties, the forest cover has comforted and cocooned us as we dealt with the stressors surrounding and threatening us on a daily basis. Within the personalized hollow, we could forget it all for a little while. We hung up our hammocks between the trees as our Boy Scout practiced and refined his outdoor skills, our youngest daughter worked to identify plants and wildflowers and took polaroid pictures of whatever drew her eyes into focus, and our youngest son walked the length of logs, climbed atop piles of dirt and debris, and gathered sticks and rocks. Nearby, my husband delighted in working to improve the nature-given space, and I indulged in a new novel, read between the camp chair and a hammock, and wrote in my journal. We lit fires and ordered pizza for dinner, looked up at the sky and marveled at the blue, and listened to the symphony of sounds of rural Ohio as we bathed under the light filtering through the trees above us.

A few weeks ago, my kids donned masks on their faces and strapped backpacks to their bodies, climbed the stairs into their school bus and chose seats near one another, then waved good-bye to my husband and me as they drove off to the start of a new school year. I see a difference in each one of them and it’s not just their sun-kissed cheeks and golden highlights, not just the inches and pounds added to their frames, not just the new shoes and crisp uniforms. I believe the difference is apparent because they’re shining from the sound interconnectedness between them, made stronger from the calmness and maturity they’ve gained, are restored by the ability to be resolute and resilient in anxious times, and fully renewed from having spent a season seeking joy in the minuscule moments of life.

A new time has emerged now, and I’m looking forward to what discoveries await us in the autumnal season. I know there will be more silver linings to weave into our familial story, sweet memories to create together, and small, not insignificant, moments to cherish. As 2020 comes to a close—thankfully so—I’ll spend the next few months measuring the milestones, maintaining the closeness, and continuing to make the best of this unprecedented time by demonstrating to my kids how gratitude is possible even on the worst days and remaining intentional about reminding them: all we have is today. So, let’s live it well, while we can.

We have grown dull toward this world in which we live; we have forgotten that it is not normal or scientific in any sense of the word. It is fantastic. It is a fairy tale through and through. Elephants? Caterpillars? Snow? At what point did you lose your wonder of it all? – John Eldredge

https://www.outofstress.com/finding-joy-simple-things-quotes/

In Search of Silver Linings During the COVID-19 Pandemic

25 Wednesday Mar 2020

Posted by in Acceptance, Blessings, Change, Coronavirus, COVID-19, Family life, Motherhood, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Rest, Seasons, Simple Living, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Thankfulness, Tough days, Truth of Heart

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“How many times have you noticed that it’s the little quiet moments in the midst of life that seem to give the rest extra-special meaning?” ― Fred Rogers

 

I live in Ohio and where Governor DeWine and Dr. Amy Acton have mandated a stay-at-home order to ensure that we are all doing our part in taking the social distancing seriously, working together to flatten out the curve and lessen the spread of the Coronavirus. These are uncertain, strange, anxiety-inducing, incredible times we are living in. Each and every one of you must be feeling your own wave of emotions with each passing day. It has been overwhelming, to say the least, that we’ve had to simultaneously just stop life and automatically become something or someone we never imagined or intended to be. We’ve been asked to jump on board without little preparation to turn rooms of our homes into make-shift offices and multi-leveled classrooms, have lost income and precious resources, and halted our livelihoods and meaningful recreation. Our stability and emotional composure feels wobbly and uncertain, at best. We’re all in this together, we are. I have hope that we will get through this, and that the drastic measures put into place will get us through the worst of it and save as many lives as possible.

Last week, my children had their first week of online learning. Their schools are honoring spring break this week, as planned. On Monday, we will start up once again for virtual schooling, until we receive the okay to return to their dearly missed school buildings, classrooms, teachers, and friends. Who knows how much longer this quarantine will remain in place? If I had a hunch, this will be the new norm for the foreseeable future.

On Monday, I felt long lulls of boredom and a few moments of anger, exasperation, sadness, and stress. Today, I’m feeling better. After sleeping in a bit, then finishing my morning reading, I realized that I’ve been in serious, get-things-done mode, cleaning a bit obsessively, putting my family first, and resorting to neglecting myself. Other than sticking to my daily walks, everything I have been focused on has been related to the upkeep and re-organization of our home, schooling, the health and well-being of my loved ones near and far—all without a break or alone time built-in for myself. So, as I’ve set a loose schedule for my kids, I’ve also set a loose schedule for myself, one where I am prioritizing well-being over doing.

One of my best friends asked me yesterday about my “silver linings” in all of this craziness. To be honest, there has been an abundance of good despite the hardships that have arisen because of the many, great changes. These small glimmers of hope are sustaining me through the tough, isolating moments. When I witness, first-hand, the resiliency of all my children and their good-nature despite cancelled plans and missing their beloved friends, classmates, teachers, and schools, it sets hope straight out in the forefront, and a newfound awareness that my kids will be alright, they’ve got this, they’re going to be better for having gone through it all together. When I can literally see my husband work so diligently at supporting his family, it causes a surge of love and appreciation, gratitude and relief within me. When all of us can join together around the table for meals without anywhere to go, except to the cabinet for another board game or card game once we’ve finished our meal, our family bond is fusing together stronger and happier than ever before. When my kids automatically run for great lengths once we reach the path paved along the perimeter of the neighborhood we live in, I see the natural runners they were born to be. Phone calls and texts to loved ones are on the increase. Letters and cards are being sent and received. Creativity and stress-relief are soaring. Out in nature multiple times a day, our bodies are healthier and leaner. Sleep comes more easily, and as I arise each new morning it feels like a blessed miracle; an ever-precious phenomena.

If you are reading this, then my hope for you is that you are able to seek out your own silver linings and threads of welcome joy, and feel peace during these uncertain times.

 

“We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.” – Joseph Campbell

On Grief and Gratitude

04 Sunday Nov 2018

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Change, Family life, Miscarriage, Motherhood, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, October 15th, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Perspective, Seasons, Suffering, Thankfulness, Tough days, Truth of Heart

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“Ye have lost a child—nay, she is not lost to you, who is found to Christ; she is not sent away, but only sent before; like unto a star, which going out of our sight, doth not die and vanish, but shineth in another hemisphere.” ~ Samuel Rutherford

 

This October, as in years past, I honored the short lives of the children I miscarried. In appreciation for those that traveled with me (and my family) through the compounded grief of losing six children, I’ve been seeking ways to give back and offer personal help to other mothers wrought with the raw pain of losing a child they’ll never hold.

Having moved well past my acute pain and piercing suffering, I finally feel free enough to turn my grief experience into service and action. My writing has been a solace to others, and I’ve personally aided friends through their own child loss journeys over the years. Though, this fall I have felt the call to do something more for the cause.

Locally, there is an organization that exists for this very reason—to shepherd families going through the unthinkable sorrow of losing a child—and I’ve had personal experience with the compassion, care, and services this important ministry offers. Reaching out, I started by writing a guest blog post last month, and hope to do so much more for them and the community of families whose hearts and lives have been forever altered by the loss of a child.

{You can read my guest post on their blog, here.}

 

Now that November is upon us, I have turned my focus toward gratitude, seeking out pleasure in the simple joys, and giving thanks for all the things I too often take for granted. Over the years, this practice in listing my blessings for the thirty days in November has refined my mind and heart—especially when the threads of my inner-being have threatened to unravel into disrepair. My struggles are incomprehensible at times, but I refuse to be broken and ungrateful.

No matter your circumstances, dear reader, I hope you will find the will in your heart to join me in pausing, savoring the good, and giving praise and thanksgiving for any fleck of beauty, moment of grace, and glimmer of hope you find in your world today, and the whole month through. Today, I am grateful to you for taking the time to read what I have written.

 

“Wear gratitude like a cloak and it will feed every corner of your life.” ~ Rumi

 

 

Resting in the Stillness After Personal Struggle

03 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by in Acceptance, Ash Wednesday, Blessings, Catholic Parenting, Change, Childhood Mood Disorders, Family life, Forgiveness, Journaling, Lent, Love, Motherhood, Parenting, Parenting a Child with Special Needs, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Prayer, Prayers, Rest, Seasons, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Thankfulness, Tough days, Truth of Heart

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Silence, I learned, is some times the most beautiful sound.” 
― Charlotte Eriksson

“Slowly, simply, silence, stillness” was my Lenten mantra, my focus, my goal for the 40 days between Ash Wednesday and Easter morning. A lofty goal, yes. Yet, I was convinced this intentional journey would yield the peaceful rewards I was seeking in my personal life. Of all my Lenten fasts, in comparison to all my past sacrifices, in judging the level of self-denial I’ve deliberately imposed on myself, this year’s “halt of self” has been the most challenging in refinement of my mind, body, and spirit.

Do you trust the silence? Or, are you a skeptic of stillness, like I tend to be?

Have you found a way to rest in the stillness? Do you ever allow yourself the chance to rest your weary mind and bones?

Do you welcome in the peace? Or, are you prone to catastrophising out of innate fear?

Have you lived out loud, with joy and freedom from the chains of your mind? Or, do you lurk along in misery, always waiting for the other shoe to drop?

The last three years, for me, have felt like an ultra-marathon, filled with hills and valleys of tears, running at a snail’s pace, feeling completely lost and unprepared for the race set before me, as I carried a weighted pack on my shoulders, trudging through mud, falling down too many times that I’ve lost track. Over the last few weeks, I have seen the finish line in sight and I’m eager, yet still so apprehensive, to finish the race and rest in the notion that the biggest fight of my life thus far, is finally done. I am having a difficult time accepting that the grueling miles I’ve run have amounted to much more than having run a race I was thrown into, without adequate preparation. Now that my desperate pleas and prayers seem to be answered, it’s difficult to switch gears to a place where it’s time to rest, recuperate, recover from the incredible feat I have just accomplished, emotionally.

For so very long now, I have carried that burdensome cross of mothering a struggling child without a compass, my headlamp dimmed, my resolve shaken and trampled on. Yet, here I rise. The truth is the only way I’ve survived the mountainous terrain of my parenting journey is that I’m finally allowing myself to let go of control. Though fears still grapple me with super-human strength, I am diligent in practicing how to breathe through them, pray through them, write through them, and further unloading them in dialogue with my amazing therapist, trying to leave them in that space between us, not letting them drag me to the floor once I return home.

I’ve practiced a lot of self-forgiveness as I’ve fallen flat on my face and the need to forgive and seek forgiveness will remain a focus in my life. Despite my missteps and mistakes, I can recognize that I am loving as best I can today, and have let those circumstances, hardships, and some relationships to just be, freely flying away to where they need to go—even if that means far away from me where I can no longer enact any type of chance to insert my will, my advice, my vision, or my control.

The most humbling lesson I’ve learned in the last three years is that it’s okay, preferable, actually, to let go of perfection and preconceived notions, allowing God to do His job, and to just love—myself, others, my family, strangers, my friends, and enemies—right where I am and right where they are, without expectation nor conditions to that love. Truth be told, it’s a difficult, often heart-wrenching choice, challenge, and cross to bear going on in love when you feel so beaten down and defeated by the compounding hardships of life. But, going on in love and patience, staying mindful to live each day as best as I can, choosing better than before, these new choices and changes only feel strange and unnatural for a time before the transformative lightness is shining from deep within my heart, mind, and soul, changing me for the better.

Slowly, simply, silence, stillness. This has been my Lenten focus and will remain my prayerful path going into the Easter season and throughout the remainder of this year. Hoping for heartfelt and mindful changes for you, me, and the world abound. Be at peace, friends.

“Whenever there is stillness there is the still small voice, God’s speaking from the whirlwind, nature’s old song, and dance…” 
― Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters

A New Year’s Hope for Radical Acceptance, Greater Kindness and Deeper Truth

31 Sunday Dec 2017

Posted by in Acceptance, Forgiveness, Glorifying God, Inspiration, Kindness, New Year New You, New Year's Resolutions, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Prayer, Seasons, Simple Living, Simplicity, Thankfulness, Truth of Heart

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“Don’t you find it odd,” she continued, “that when you’re a kid, everyone, all the world, encourages you to follow your dreams. But when you’re older, somehow they act offended if you even try.” ~ Ethan Hawke, The Hottest State

 

On this New Year’s Eve, I am looking inward and claiming my personally perceived imperfections and failed attempts, owning the disappointments and mistakes of the last twelve months, yet disallowing the negative to shackle me to the past. Ending the year on an introspective note allows me to acknowledge what I should have done better–without allowing grief and shame to weigh me down. For, I trust and hope for a new day and new year to grow kinder, gentler, better than before.

Would you allow that, quite possibly, the most delicate and treasured gift we can bestow upon ourselves during the holiday season is finding a deeper and lasting way to spread love and acceptance, by taking adequate time for intentionally glimpsing within, and setting forth toward a new year filled with anticipation and led by a healed heart bursting of grace, beauty, and acceptance? 

This annual interior reflection I practice has allowed me to extend radical grace and true forgiveness to myself, firstly, and the capacity to extend equal compassion to others in my life. Looking toward the new year set before me, I am feeling hopeful for the freedom of newborn chances, courageous to pursue my truth by way of my dreams, and the energy and faith necessary to walk boldly, yet, treading lightly upon the path that awaits me in the coming year. 

I want to take this moment to wish an incredibly, joyously Happy New Year’s Eve to all of my readers. My wish and prayer for you is for a safe and peaceful night, surrounded by love and friendship, and warmly enlightened by your own hopes for 2018. Thank you for your devout readership!

 

“I am larger, better than I thought; I did not know I held so much goodness.

All seems beautiful to me.

Whoever denies me, it shall not trouble me;

Whoever accepts me, he or she shall be blessed, and shall bless me.”

~ Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

 

Thankfulness for Tiny Breaks

16 Thursday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Birthdays, Blessings, Intentional Living, Lifelong friends, New Year New You, Peace, Personal health, Perspective, Rest, Simple Living, Simplicity, Thankfulness

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“Rest and be thankful.” ~ William Wordsworth

 

Three days ago, I had the pleasure of celebrating another 40-something birthday for which I am glad. My husband and children showered me with their love and attention, and I was thrilled to be surprised by a few handwritten cards in the mail from dear friends. To myself, I gave the gift of a deliberately slow week, taking my time through the most important tasks, letting the non-essentials go, moving away from the computer screen, cutting myself some slack, and indulging in some overdo self-care. I’m grateful to be more self-aware this year than I have ever been in the past, and that I honored this newfound truth on my birthday. Permission to rest may be the perfect gift one can give to thyself.  

 

Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop. ~ Ovid

 

Being Thankful for this Blessed Life of Mine

10 Friday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Blessings, Change, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Prayer, Suffering, Thankfulness, Tough days

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“Remember the past with gratitude. Live the present with enthusiasm. Look forward to the future with confidence. ~ St. John Paul II

 

At the end of a full and lively week, I am simply grateful for being given the chance to live out this blessed life of mine. Despite the difficult trials I face and the numerous crosses I’ve been asked to carry, the deep struggles won’t stop me from giving thanks for all that I have, all that I am, and all that I know to be true. It has been quite the journey for me moving from a worrying and despairing heart toward that of one whom can recognize and recall a list of blessings no matter the circumstances of the day.

The process is messy and feels ridiculous at times, truth be told. However, once you reach the peak of graciousness, your life will be forever changed–emotionally, mentally, even physically. It’s not about being a “Pollyanna,” no. Rather, gleaning gratitude is more about recognizing that no matter how awful, cruel, unfair and worthless life seems at times, if you soldier on through the worst and most damaging experiences then you will most likely reach a measure of strength and purification of your entire being that can only be described as enlightening and awe-inspiring. My hope for you, if you are now wrestling with your own tremendously troubling circumstances, is that you may find any reason today to celebrate a glimmer of optimism, search for a light in the dark, and a chance at a better tomorrow.

Readers, there is so much more I want to explore and write about related to emerging grateful from a heart of stone, and I will circle back to it soon, I promise. For now, I hope you are enjoying this “30 Days of Thanks” blog series and that it is inspiring you to set about your own journey toward a more grateful heart. 

 

I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness – it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude. ~ Brene Brown

In Thanksgiving for Literature and Literary Spots

08 Wednesday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Authors, Books, Chasing Dreams, Memories, Peace, Reading, Thankfulness, Writing

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I lived in books more than I lived anywhere else. ~Neil Gaiman

 

Truth: When I was a young girl, I had recurring nightmares about being caught inside a burning house and not escaping until I could figure out how to save my books. This revelation quite possibly tells you enough about me that I should stop writing now! Nevertheless, I persist in written expression of my deepest gratitude to all the authors of the literature I have read over my lifetime and for those I can hardly wait to read. Interwoven into thanksgiving for books, I am eternally grateful for the peace I feel every time I enter a library or bookstore. So much so, that I will forever seek out literary spots wherever life finds me and take a piece of their shelves home with me in eager anticipation of visiting the world of words set between the pages of each and every gift of a book.

Just for fun, here is a sampling of some of my favorite bookstores I have encountered in my travels and places I have lived:

Please, leave a comment and tell me about your favorite bookshops!

 

Some books leave us free and some books make us free. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Thankful for the Practical Things, for Wood Floors and Simple Living

07 Tuesday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Blessings, Catholic Parenting, Family life, Intentional Living, Love, Perspective, Simple Living, Simplicity, Striving toward Minimalism, Thankfulness

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Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings. ~ William Arthur Ward

 

The thanks I give today is for the wood floors found throughout the first floor of the home I share with my husband and children. Yes. Wood floors. These Brazilian-red, wide-set planks have seen better days and will need replacing in the next couple of years. Meanwhile, I can ignore the nicks and flaws and find something special in their worn-in beauty. For instance, that they have provided a steadfast platform for multiple levels of child’s play over the years, from babies on their tummy-time mats, to crawling and scooting toddlers working their way from stacking rings to building sturdy block towers, onto puzzle making, racing trains and cars, and now, presenting the base for elaborate card and board games.

Smooth in surface, these suffering floors offer wide, ample space for practicing ballet twirls, cartwheels and made-up cheers. Children will chase, tag, and hide from each other for fun from one end of the floor to the next. Often enough, the floorboards take quite a beating while we dance in the kitchen to emotion-chosen background music, our feet stomping and bodies moving free-form to the tunes that lighten our moods. So many footsteps of family and friends, neighbors and guests have walked the length of these floors, warming our home with their sheer presence and welcomed visits.

When the day is complete and nighttime falls, clean-up of these wood floors is quite simple and allows extra time in the evening for me to relax and catch-up with my husband after a long day spent apart. These floors in our home are the foundation from which we stand together. So, yes. Today, I am grateful for the luxury of having wood floors–the horizontal platform supporting the hard-won and love-filled living that preserves my beloved family together.

 

The best things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life’s plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life.  ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

In Gratitude for Learning how to Forgive Thyself

06 Monday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Blessings, Change, Forgiveness, Memories, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Perspective, Seasons, Thankfulness, Walking & Hiking

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Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil; With them forgive yourself. ~ William Shakespeare

 

Allowing my mind to wander at will during my brisk walk today along the trustworthy path in the neighborhood where I reside, my thoughts turned to the act of forgiveness and what a delicate art mercy can be, especially when extending that grace to oneself. Revealingly, my inner critic is a harsh woman and I persistently fight for victory against her bitter tongue and unrealistic expectations. Today, I am thankful for the great lessons of life and heart that have contributed to my acquired strength, humble formation and greatness of spirit over these forty-something years. Self-reflection reveals I am witness to the lasting goodness, genuine beauty and absolute joy that emanates when one learns to forgive herself with the utmost sincerity.

 

“When you forgive, you love. And when you love, God’s light shines upon you.”   ~ Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild