Cultivating Gratitude: I am the Ungraceful One

Sometimes the hardest lessons come from your own family. Those who are closest to you see the bare bones of your soul, and sometimes it just isn't a pretty sight. My lack of Grace to them, my lack of Grace towards myself, my lack of allowing Grace to work in my heart... it's only when I'm rolling around in the mud that I even realize that I've been knocked down once more by my dark side. Blindness to Grace is a terrible state.

Their Grace shown to me is what brings me back to my knees, oh-so-ready to kneel before the Grace-Giver and beg for renewal. And, you know, for the millionth or billionth time, my prayer is answered. Not harshly, not begrudgingly, but gently I am led back to the path. The words of the old hymn echo through my thankful ears- 'Twas grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.

~ Flowers from my sweet neighbor, a surprise on my doorstep

~ Two home-made rubber band bracelets from a young student who wants me to keep up with the current trends

~ Baby kisses

~ A personal relationship with the Creator of the Universe. How cool is THAT?

~ Clean water to drink in my own home

~ Waking up healthy and happy between my daughter and husband

~ Getting a discount at the store where my sister works

~ Harmony and Em dancing in the kitchen, music blaring, hands in the air