Days 43 & 44

I am left handed. So is my dad. When I was little my mom forgot this little fact when she decided to buy me my first ball & glove to teach me how to throw. She bought a right handed glove and I have forever been confused about which hand to use when throwing anything since. My poor mom has never lived down this mistake, but to her credit, I do not think I’m the type to be good at throwing things anyway. Left or right handed.

Anyway, Saturday night I made hamburgers for dinner (the real kind, no turkey meat this week. Delish!). After dinner, Josh suggested we take the leftover hamburger buns down to the lake and feed the new baby geese that have recently arrived. I liked this idea, but was also a little nervous; those Daddy Geese are mean! But I love to watch the babies up close, so I packed up the extra bread and off we went. I figured I could just pitch my bread underhanded while maintaining a safe distance. This didn’t work out so well- I’ll blame it on my mama, but for some reason I couldn’t release my bread in time and I kept throwing it behind me. Seriously, BEHIND ME!!! It went in the bushes, it went in the lake, and a few pieces even landed on the neighbor’s porch, but none seemed to go in the direction of the babies. Sad. Except, Josh thought this was extremely funny. He laughed. He laughed so hard that he cried. He laughed so hard that I had to join in until I was laughing. And then, I was crying too. We stood there, empty bread bags in hand, laughing through our tears. It was a perfect evening.

I woke up early Sunday morning in a great mood. I snuck out from under the covers, grabbed some running clothes, and went for a long, early morning jog. While running through that dew-covered grass on Easter Morning, I felt completely lighthearted and giddy and joyful. I decided to spend all of Sunday being thankful. I wasn’t going to complain or ask for anything or wish for something more. I have everything I need and I was going to celebrate my blessings all day long. I found out that spending the day in thanks is a good way to bring on the tears. These are just some of the many blessings I celebrated (and cried about) on Sunday:

1) My husband- the way he sleeps, his sticky-uppy hair when he wakes up, the way he always asks me to help him pick out his outfit, the way he loves my family and helps me clean up the house and kisses me all day, for no reason.

2) My mom- the way she always walks into my house, saying “Hello, hello!” so cheerfully and familiarly. For the chance to show her the church Josh & I have been attending and getting to sit so close to her that I could hear her clear, beautiful voice as she sang each hymn, for the way she loves my niece and nephew and hid Easter eggs around my house even though they are too old for that stuff now, and the way she dropped an entire pie dish on my sidewalk after dinner and laughed at herself while we all cleaned it up.

3) My health- which allows me to run and play and push my niece on the merry-go-round.

4) My couch- which is so old and used that I didn’t even get upset when one of the family dogs peed on it after dinner.

5) My brother and his family- which made the day lively and loud and filled with an Easter-ness that would have been lacking had they not been around.

6) For home-cooked food that was so yummy and rich and delicious not a word was spoken as we all dove in!

7) For God and his patience with me during the years I forgot about him and for welcoming me back with open arms and for blessing me with all the things mentioned above.
And so much more.