Years ago I decided I should start a gratitude journal. It might have been an idea from Oprah, Regis and Kathie Lee, or Reading Rainbow. I can’t recall, though I do recall the sound of the narrator’s voice from The Poky Little Puppy vhs tape. She was a good ol’ gal. The journal wasn’t meant for lofty thoughts. It was just for simple thanks.

During this season of Thanksgiving I thought it might be interesting and kind of fun to pull out that journal. For the sake of imagined privacy, I will not name names. This is from – let’s just call it ‘the early years’. Here are some entries:

• Going into the kitchen and coming upon 3 humming happily as she plays with her toy broom and baby carriage.
• I’m thankful I can pray for others. Whether I hear a siren and pray for a stranger or for someone on the prayer chain or, like tonight,, hear of something on the T.V. I just heard comedian Bill Cosby’s son was fatally shot and found along the highway; and I prayed for that family and will again.
• Graham crackers with frosting.
• The nasal suction thing.
• The light in little 4’s eyes.
• I got the floors washed today.
• Bleach.
• We have enough money for more milk.
• I got a nap today!
• I got the paper read.
• Everyone ate their supper.
• I found a parking lot to park in.
• The thrift store.
• The kids clapped when I placed supper on the table (parmesan noodles, cooked carrots, applesauce) – such good kids.
• A lovely nap!
• Everybody is sleeping in their own bed.
• 2 told me death is like a peanut. The shell stays and the peanut goes up to heaven. Then 1 added some practicality, “or like a snail”.
• There was a 1/2 hour period of time when it was quiet and Brian and I sat in the same room, reading.
• The cross.
• Tea.

It’s instructive of what my life was like then; a little snapshot of small things that made me grateful. There are only a couple of big things on the list: prayer and the cross. Without them there would be no list. Not for me. (Or maybe I should say without them I would be such a different person, I’m not sure I would make a list.) The rest, though, are the minutia in the life of a mother with young children. It does seem I was a bit overly focused on sleep. (Just know there were other entries with the word ‘nap’ in them.) But those days of limited sleep and money were every bit as good as days with more of both, maybe better. And that’s what gratefulness is, isn’t it: Acknowledgement of the small things in our lives that fill us up?

As we come upon this time of Thanksgiving, let’s be glad we have not only the capacity for gratefulness, but know Someone to thank. Even during these days of tragedy and hostility we can find the good things, the interesting or happy or satisfying moments.

We, my friends, could very well be witnessing the waning days of this old world of ours. People have thought that before now, of course.

There’s a lot of passion about a number of things. People, good folks, are divided over how best to live out our faith. I wonder if Jesus aches at our arguments even as He waits for word that it’s time. The earth, itself, rumbles here and there with nature’s groanings. There are a few unfulfilled prophecies to watch for in the meantime. But that’s just it. IN THE MEANTIME, while we wait for the next shoe to drop and do whatever we decide is the best thing to do during these days, we can be thankful. This world is a good one. It always has been. It’s still beautiful and the people in it can be, too. Every season brings its own gifts. Let’s be grateful while we have time to show it.

Who knew a Thanksgiving post could cause so much trouble? Or treble. Or whatever. Here’s the thing. I am the mother of a teenage boy. The other teenagers in my life grew into young ladies who moved out and sporadically return through what is now the revolving door stage of young adulthood. As that mother (my kind is out there in the thousands – you know who you are), I hear music on a regular basis that I would otherwise not normally choose to listen to. So – I can’t believe I’m saying this – I silently cheered for Justin Bieber long after everyone else had deserted him. I only recently deleted him from the likes on my Facebook page and still pray for him from time to time. After all, no one is beyond change and he really does have talent. C’mon. Like If I Was Your Boyfriend was never playing on a loop in your subconscious. I liked Taylor Swift from the first song I heard her sing. She may appear to be a cutesy songstress, but that girl is nobody’s fool. She’s laughing all the way to the bank with her latest song which, by the way, I think is amusing in its over-the-top portrayal of the serial relationships the media criticize her about.

This short background leads us to a conversation between me and two of the former teenagers I had about my latest post which they didn’t read. I’ll admit, when I first heard All About That Bass, I felt sorry for the artist because it sounded like she couldn’t hit that low note no matter how hard she tried. However, that tune is extremely catchy and she had come up with a winner. She even sang it on the Country Music Awards with Miranda Lambert-Shelton. I saw it. It was entertaining. Back to the treble trouble. Apparently the mama in Meghan Trainor’s All About That Bass, wasn’t referring to a husband when she told the singer (and let’s just insert the word “reportedly” here) that “boys they like a little more booty to hold at night”. You didn’t hear it, but I sighed out loud just now. My world and the world that my kids say is reality collide in these songs. In my world anyone who snuggles by any kind of your booty – pirate booty, baby bootie, or snow bootie – is married to you, and AND! No mother worth her salt would tell her daughter that a boy who would want anything outside of marital bliss is someone they should even give a second look.

My ensuing blog post is pretty in sync and I will not, WILL NOT retract just because someone has their mind in the gutter. Plus, of my blog readers, I suspect exactly 2 have even heard the song. I encourage you, UNITE! Deny the baseness of All About That Bass and embrace the message about accepting your size, and I quote, “Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top”.

As for me, I’m going to go have another piece of leftover cranberry cake with caramel sauce. The conversation about what exactly evaporated milk is or what they do to milk to make it sweetened condensed (oh, don’t tempt me to relive that conversation) will have to wait for another day.

Image: en.wikipedia; Quote: All About That Bass by Meghan Trainor

On a November day when the kids were younger, I took a white sheet (not having the financial resources to actually buy something), put it on a table, and asked my family to write things for which they were grateful on it. Recorded for all of history is someone’s developing handwriting naming a book, the Bible, which they rightly printed in all capital letters; another’s artistic propensity showing their appreciation for strawberries and snow and ice cream; and someone else’s intense love of sleepovers. With cousins!

I wrote each family member’s name on that white sheet whether or not they were able to make the trip for Thanksgiving dinner with the clan that year. Then it went the way of decent ideas everywhere and lay forgotten at the bottom of a stack of tablecloths and table runners and rugs.

I pulled it out this year and there in colorful marker were the names of two dear pets who lived good long lives and one precious brother who died too soon. I stood there thinking about the years in between the year of the sheet used for a tablecloth and this year and the lump in my throat resisted my efforts to look on the bright side. There is a bright side, but there are moments when other things need to be front and center.

So be thankful. Just – be thankful. Be grateful for the common, everyday things that surround you and irritate you and make you late and remind you of something but you can’t quite recall what and bring a smile to your face or voice and fill up your days. Be grateful for things that make life easier and for hard things that make you better. Be grateful for the pet you love who provides company and silliness and no judgment. Be grateful for the people you think will always be there because they have always been there, because it takes no more time to be grateful than it takes to read this, and when you least expect it that time will be gone.