When You’re Overwhelmed by Gratitude
Some days I just can’t seem to keep up. When I get a moment of quiet to think (usually in the shower), my thoughts race ahead of my body and my abilities. Projects, chores, making food, building relationships, working out, talking to God and reading His Word. They’re all on my list of things to do. Things I want to do, but at the same time things I sometimes dread.
I bob up and down, like someone drifting in the ocean of life. Sometimes I get a burst of energy and paddle with all my might; other days I just want to go with the current because it’s easy that way. I want to let the laundry pile up and the dust collect; I want to leave the mound of dishes in the sink and the toys scattered about. But I don’t.
I don’t want to reach out to that person or make a plan to meet up. I don’t feel like praying with my daughter or reading her another book… or making dinner and cleaning that high chair tray one more time. But I do.
God gives me the strength to keep going. And I’m truly grateful for that.
I admit that I can’t do it on my own strength. Being a parent and pressing on is something supernatural. I’m thankful for moments like this, though, when I can simply be. Think. Reflect. Journal.
Mostly when I get these moments to myself, my heart is overwhelmed with gratitude.
I want to live like I don’t have much longer on this earth. I want to soak up time with family and friends. I want to be bold in proclaiming the gospel. I want to reach out to those who are hurting. I want to serve those in need. Be a difference-maker. I’m selfish though, and God is still refining me.
I just finished reading This Life I Live by Rory Feek. I gobbled it up in two days. Probably the fastest I’ve ever read a book. You can ask my husband. It’s an autobiography of an ordinary man God has used to touch the lives of so many through his story and his wife’s. A love story, but also a life story. How God refined him little by little, over the course of a lifetime, molding him for something bigger than himself or his family even. Read more on his blog: thislifeilive.com
It made me think about what other people would say about me once I’m gone. What kind of legacy will I leave? For my husband, my children, my neighbors, my friends? Do my roots go deep? Have a done my part to cultivate what I’ve been given? Did I love well, plant the right things? Am I keeping the weeds at bay, watering daily, and caring for those things entrusted to me? God does the miracle of making things grow, but I have to show up.
Will my story point to God’s? Will yours? I hope so. Because it’s the most beautiful love story ever written.
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