I am thankful for the little things.
The little hands and feet; the long naps.
The smell of pulled pork in my crock-pot and the satisfaction of writing when dinner is making itself.
The crackling fire; Norah Jones.
The couch that’s too small for both of us but we make it work anyway.
The over-ripe bananas she’ll still eat.
The time to eat breakfast every morning, the taste of oatmeal and her excitement for milk.
The leggings I splurged on and live-in, and love.
The kindness of neighbors, the flowers from a friend, the cookies they brought, the time spent with a good book.
The way he always wants to protect me and provide for me.
The excited sounds of grandparent voices on Facetime.
And then there are the big things. The things I have taken for granted at times.
Money in our bank account.
The right to vote.
The ability to speak my mind and tell my stories.
The peace that comes from what was already done and what is to come.
Everyday I give thanks, but this week I give thanks multiplied by a thousand. Jesus, you are so good to me.