Today delights me to highlight a post from Georgia Peach at Holy Writing Blog, my benefactor who got me started with writing and blogging. Below is her latest story; hope you enjoy it.
For a few days, I have had a small journal by my bedside. As soon as I wake up, I write down the things that fill me with gratitude. It does start the day better, but I noticed something unusual that happened today. Instead of the near things: sleep, comfy bed, spouse, etc., I was flooded with memories of my Mother’s flowers. It was a trip I was taken on rather than one that I chose.
I never saw my Mother garden but sometime before I was born, the lilacs were planted. If you have never enjoyed the scent of May blooming purple lilacs, you are terribly deprived. They grew on the east side and were as tall as the second floor of our house. The lily of the valley almost beat the lilacs in the swooning scent contest. The azaleas, white, red, salmon, pink, were faithful every year. Dogwood and daffodils, these are the gifts that surrounded me in the Spring on Long Island. I miss them.
Then came a different memory. I was laying on a gurney in 2010, waiting for my first colonoscopy. I was afraid and not too proud to admit it. Alone as I waited, I felt this: my beloved deceased dog Cooper was laying by my side next to my left arm. There was just enough room and I knew it was him. I was comforted beyond measure.
Ah, you say, nice memory but you conjured it to feel better. Maybe, but then there is this: When I got home and went online to Facebook, the most curious thing happened. On that day, a co-worker of my son’s posted a picture of he and Cooper taken at the camp where they both spent the summers. He had taken it a few years before and posted it that day.
So, this was the second memory that surfaced to bless the beginning of my day. One miracle left. I wanted so much to see that picture again and had no idea how to find it. I went to Facebook and found it with ease on my son’s timeline. I couldn’t believe that I located that 9-year old post. God finds ways to let us know He is with us in whatever form He knows we are able to accept. Bouquets of flowers and a faithful dog. I am grateful.
What an amazing story!
Are you ready to keep a journal at your bedside and jot down your first thoughts of the morning to discover moments of gratitude?
I have that good habit, so grateful to Georgia Peach who is my ‘Delight’ mentor.