Oh, it happens to be Monday. I used to write on here on Mondays. To keep track of the gifts. Count the ways I was seeing God working. Because I know it's all around. Then I lost track. Not of the gifts. But counting them, perhaps. Recording them, maybe. Ever so slowly, I write them down. Here. Nail by nail, pounding them in, counting them, reminding myself of what He brings into my life. Seeing Him all there.
153. birds chirping
154. little ones laughing
155. a friend who gets it. make that friends
156. an (almost) complete weekend without work.
157. a Sunday without work!
158. writing more
159. new friends at church
160. long walks
161 a blast from the past/Gilmore Girls with my friend
162. a maintenance man who shows up super fast and I can get to small group quickly
163. stillness, quiet
So for a moment, when you think things are lost, when there's pain, be still. and just know that He is there for every corner you have to turn, every door you open. The sharp ones, the curvy ones, the adventure-full ones. He is there. And I tell myself this again and again, too.
A tucked out page in my journal. Torn out. Placed in the back. So I could return to it again and again:
...Recorded from 1000 Gifts...
Ann asks can God be counted on..."count blessings and find out how many of His bridges have already held.
Had I not trusted all these years because I had not counted.
Every time fear freezes and worry writhes..aren't I advertising the unreliability of God? That I don't really believe? But if I'm grateful to the Bridge Builder for the crossing of a million strong bridges, thankful for a million faithful moments, my life speaks my beliefs and I trust Him again.
He's there in the valleys and the mountain tops.
"I fearlessly cross the next bridge."