"Time is a relentless river. It rages on, a respecter of no one. And this, this is the only way to slow time: When I fully enter time's swift current, enter into the current moment with the weight of all my attention, I slow the torrent with the weight of me all here. I can slow the torrent by being all here. I only live the full life when I live fully in the moment. And when I'm always looking for the next glimpse of glory, I slow and enter. And time slows. Weigh down this moment in time with attention full, and the whole of time's river slows, slows, slows. . . And blind eyes see: It's this sleuthing for the glory that slows a life gloriously. It's plain, bubble straight through: Giving thanks for one thousand things is ultimately an invitation to slow time down with weight of full attention. In this space of time and sphere, I am attentive, aware, accepting the whole of the moment, weighing it down with me all here."
--Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are
Counting my own gifts this quiet morning:
161. mentors whose acquaintance I might never make, authors who've given of their words and shaped me
162. pockets of quiet in my day for writing
163. loud and boisterous giggles as two small boys wrestle
164. a daughter asking night after night, "Can we talk?"
165. a husband listening, really listening
166. friends across years and maps
167. Your unbelievably MARVELOUS timing
168. warm radiators, down comforters, cozy slippers
169. more freedom, less fear
170. an invitation for dinner, all SEVEN of us!
171. the hard work of committing: and Your Spirit to gently encourage and prod
172. a writers' retreat in the future and a friend to make the long drive with
173. crispy bacon
174. fevers gone, and a little girl with color back in her cheeks
175. Big Love: for my messes and failures and greatest hypocrisies
176. writing: to find and be found
177. the perfect fall beauty - leaves still clinging to trees and bright sun to warm the afternoon hours
179. provision and impermanence
180. a quiet Saturday morning - everyone still tucked in