The quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful
That’s the textbook definition, but to me, it doesn’t even come close to defining gratitude. Taking a step back and examining the word gratitude makes me want to burst out of my skin. My insides are exploding with blessings. God so fit for me to be here and living well, and I don’t know why.
What did I do to deserve this life?
Not that I’m questioning God. I would never do that because my belief is firm in knowing that everything happens for a reason. I give praise to all of my good times as well as the bad. It’s just that when I think about my good times… well, there are too many to name.
But I will start with this.
I woke up this morning and laid in my bed for a couple of hours and thought about everything that took place yesterday.
I was blessed with the opportunity to help a dear friend of mine cloth the homeless. I had my whole family in the garage, organizing clothes and placing them into there designated boxes that were labeled by my 10-year-old. We wanted the process of handing out clothes to go smoothly for my friend. The labels would let the homeless know if the items in the box were men/ women tops, bottoms, shoes, scarfs, hats, towels, toiletries, blankets, or coats. We loaded up the UHaul truck, and my selfless friend was off to feed and clothe the homeless and put smiles on their faces.
As if that wasn’t enough goodness. I was able to do more! I cook for my family every day, and I’m able to sit across from them and laugh and talk about all of their funny stories, but it’s something about Thanksgiving day that just makes all of their stories even more special. Sometimes I just stare at my kids, and I can’t hear a word they are saying. All I see is light in their eyes that’s full of hope. A type of hope that people would kill to have.
And for that, I’m grateful…the exploding kind
You could have chosen any blog to read, but you chose mine, and I’m honored.