A few years ago I started keeping a gratitude journal. And you must know this: You don’t start a gratitude journal because things are going so swimmingly. Quite the opposite, actually. You start it as a desperate measure to somehow get back into the good graces of the universe. You start one to prove to yourself that all is not lost. That there are treasures still here if you’ll only dig deep enough.
And for the longest time, every page looked very much the same and rather boring, rather pathetic. Not that these weren’t HUGE things to be thankful for:
Thank you for my kids. Thank you for my family. Thank you for our health. For my home. For peace. For stillness. For coffee. For sunshine.
But it all still felt a little…shallow.
Every page looked the same. It’s as if I just couldn’t see past the basics. But as the days wore on, the entries started to get a little longer.
Thank you for new friends. Thank you for so much goodness and abundance in my life. Thank you for happiness. Thank you that I heard my favorite song this morning. Thank you for deer in the backyard today. Thank you for the laughter of kids ringing through my house. Thank you that I can’t remember the last time I cried. Thank you for laughter and joy. Thank you for books. For words that give me life.
Thank you for a life I love.
You start a gratitude journal because you need help seeing all the goodness in your life. You keep writing in one because you can’t believe how much goodness there actually is.
Hey God? Thanks.