It’s always Thanksgiving in my heart. Probably a good thing that doesn’t apply to my tummy or I’d be big as a barn. I just live grateful for every moment.

It’s why I so quickly resonated with Ann Voskamp‘s One Thousand Gifts. If you haven’t read it, you really should. Today. I lived gratefully before I encountered it, but so much more so since then. I carry it in my purse and read it over and over. If you read it, you’ll see why.

As a creative sort, I’ve always looked for beauty in little details of the mundane. I’ve never come up empty. I wish everyone looked at life this way.

I’ve been given so much. Even when the car is broken (which is much of the time) or I’m cleaning up after someone (which is pretty often) or I’m scared about something (which is almost always), I can find plenty to thank God for. Like the lively flock of red- and orange-winged beauties screeching and playing just outside my window right now, for starters.

As a writer it is my goal to infuse my writing with as much gratitude as possible, in whatever form I am able. If it means describing how my ministry notebook is scrawled with gobs of notes and smudges and scribbles or the splotches of brilliant autumn colors all over the calico cat that stretches her back and knocks all my “teacher” knickknacks off the window sill, then I’m okay with that. It’s my world, after all, and I’m grateful for it. All of it.

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