Grace

I've been reading Ann Voskamp's book. I've been tracking down gratefulness, writing things down in my journal. Numbering grace.

Wind blowing through clean sheets on my wash line.
Clean countertops after a yummy lunch.
Fresh sheets on my bed, waiting for me to sleep.
Piles of clean laundry.
A refrigerator full of food, groceries taken care of for the week.
Patches of sun that break through a cloudy sky.

On an on it goes. My days written out in a list of thank you. Trying to be thankful for all the ordinary things that make up my day.

Grace.

My head aches today. Every noise seems outrageous and unnecessary. Life in general seems like too much. I'm fighting the words 'worthless' and 'inadequate'. I am fighting, but I'm not happy about it. I'm searching for a hole. A place to bury deep,  to cover up, to be alone, to sleep.

Grace.

Wacky middle aged woman hormones that give me headaches and make me fierce.
Having time to think in the middle of the night because I can't sleep.
Night sweats. I must be burning calories.
Burning calories in the night without working out.
Will pulling me in for a hug, his sensors telling him something was wrong.
Hot tea with lemon.
A good hair day.
New white pants.
My I-Pod and my running shoes on a country road this morning.
This time. Time for words.
A God who responds with grace when all I can say is "Help! Please help."

Tomorrow might be another struggle.

Grace.