Thankful

I was listening to the radio the other day and they were talking about missionaries and being overseas "roughing it" (sorry if anything was understood wrong here - I was changing diapers and wondering if lunch was burning as I listened). One woman met a 10 year old girl, her younger sister, and older brother. Their mother had passed away - she was a prostitute. The middle girl does everything she can to provide for her brother and sister, working in an all day factory job for next to nothing in profit. Their home has no washer/drier, fridge, sink. . . . beds. . . . light . . . extra clothing, you get the picture. They have an outhouse 3 blocks from their home. 3 blocks. No "toilet" closer than that.

This woman asked how much it was to build an outhouse onto their home. 24 US dollars. She gave them the money and weeks later received a photograph in the mail with the 3 children with their new addition onto their home in the background . . . and they were smiling. This had changed their life. 24 dollars. Now, I can't help but shed tears when I think of what one of those families would do for the uncontaminated water that goes down my kitchen drain every day - from rinsing dishes before they go into the dishwasher. Running water for 10 seconds just to wait for it to get warm. . . that would be unheard of. They might not even have dishes to clean. And here I sit in a heated home with food in the fridge if I get hungry and a healthy husband and children. Not to get you down today, but why aren't we over there living that life? Why do we think we are entitled to everything we think we want? They were excited about a toilet for cryin' out loud! New clothes, fruit snacks, calendars, microwavable lunches, and heaven forbid us having to park in a full parking lot and walk 200 feet into Kohl's in the cold weather to Christmas shop for our healthy loved ones. We have vehicles to drive, resources of any sort, helpful neighbors, people that pray for us, and give us gifts on our birthday because we are loved.

How can I look at my surroundings and still have one ounce of unthankfulness? I spent 24 dollars on gas the other day. Groceries. McDonalds (although it's been a couple months). I'm a little torn this holiday season. How can I teach my children to possibly begin to fathom everything they have when I have trouble with it myself?

Ten Words

Ran into a great blog with this on it. "Alexandra Stoddard, in her book Feeling At Home, said '...write down the ten word symbols that tell who you truly are. Don't think. Your subconscious does all the work. Be there to record what emerges from the deepest recesses of your heart. This may be one of the sweetest moments of your entire life. Try it, and see for yourself how you feel.'"

I thought it would be neat to try, so here goes:
1. Behind
2. Comfortable
3. Games
4. Groceries
5. Kids
6. Wife
7. Stories
8. Accommodating
9. Surrendering
10. Peaceful

Try it out.

Today.

Okay, I just made Spiced Pumpkin Tartlets. They are AWESOME! I hope they make it to craft night tonight. I'll have to limit myself to 3 . . . or 5 would be okay I guess.

Went grocery shopping today and spent $35.25 on groceries. Not bad. The egg nog won't last long, either. Mixed with mostly milk - new craving. OH! Wanna know my brand-spanking new craving? The Farting Goat has chicken wings. Breaded. Chubby Style. Yum. They are the best when the sauce hasn't gotten to the breaded part yet and it's still crunchy. I'm hungry.

I sit here at my kitchen table with the curtains open watching the big heavy wet drops of snow fall all over my van. Maybe I should get a scraper this year, eh? Nothing like waiting for the first big snowfall, Amie. Good work.

I need to go gather my crafting things for tonight - I'm bringing Olivia (7) if she wants to go - she loves being crafty and I don't let her do it near enough. She can have tartlets and hot chocolate with me. . . right after she clears off my van. I'm not really that mean. . . well, unless I can make some sort of game out of it - then her brother can join in.

What's that about?!

Harry is taking me up into the air once in a while and it looks really high up. I'm not deathly afraid of heights or anything, but we always manage to get back on solid ground before I get too scared. But not this time. The hugest tree I've ever seen. He thought it would be fun to go that high. So he takes me in his arms and up we go (how, I don't know - so don't ask). Sidenote: love his arms. Moving on ... err ... up, that is. I am freaked out. I have no idea how high he's going, but he's looking pretty excited to be going up so high. I start mimmering and feel a little sick, and finally get out the words (this is when the person at the bottom of the HUGE tree looked like an ant and I could see the top of the tree), "okay, that's high enough!".

He says, "Okay, here we go!" And I am not kidding you, I feel a lump in my belly move all the way up to my throat and I'm hanging on by the end of his shirt at this point for DEAR LIFE. We are ziplining to the ground. Not a straight down fall, but going at about a 38 degree angle... F-A-S-T. I scream the piercing kind of scream all the way down to the grass. Seemed like eternity to get there. Oh, the lovely grass. Didn't hurt to land. Then instead of beating him with any energy I had left, I kissed him - a lot.

Then his pocket made noise. Why? His grandma was calling his cell phone. Thank you Grandma for waking me up. I go into the kitchen feeling a panic in the depths of me and still trying to open my eyes. Harry is leaving for work and laughs at my plea for life at 5:30 am. Please don't do that again, honey! Poor guy. He's endured me actually hitting him when I wake up becase I was so furious by what he did in my dreams. Poor, poor guy. My constant vivid dreams are rarely a good thing. So needless to say, I will not ever - in - my - life go parasailing thank you very much. I'll be the ant by the tree.